Southland Stories

Southland Times, Issue 20963, 21 December 1929, Page 23

Southland Stories

—CHRISTMAS.— Christmas is the happiest time in the year and it brings joy to everyone. Christmas was our Saviour’s birthday and it should bring happiness. We pity the ones who are homeless and motherless and do not enjoy Christmas. First of all wc have the pleasure of going over the street on Christmas Eve. We buy presents for our relations and buy bombs and crackers. When we go home after spending an enjoyable evening, we hang up our stocking for Father Christmas to fill. Then we go to sleep to dream about Christmas. On Christmas morning we awake to find out stockings crammed full with toys. We play with them in delight until we are told to get dressed. We eat little breakfast, after which we show our toys to our playmates. Then we play until dinner-time. What a dinner! First of all we have turkey, new potatoes and peas. For pudding we have trifles, jellies, fruit-salads, and Christmas puddings, and if we are not full by then wc can eat sweets and apples and all other fruits. For tea we see a big Christmas cake standing on the table, with 1929 printed on it. So ends our happy Christmas. —2 marks to Cousin Edna Belsham (11), Lumsden. THE GHOST OF ROCKYHOLME “I think it’s a perfect shame, the village people are abrolutely scared out of their wits.” The clear girlish voice floated out from the rose bower nestled in the green shrubs. The speaker, Alison McKay, and her twin brother Neil along with their widowed mother lived in the pretty white house at the end of the village of Silversands. The subject of the discussion was the “ghost” which was reputed to haunt the old ruins of “Rockyholme” Castle—the picturesque old stone building which stood looking out to sea on the high chalk cliffs above Silver-sands. “Yes,” replied twelve-year-old Neil, hotly, "Old Peter Brown told me to-day when I went down to the village that the ghostly lights were seen again last night. They were silent for a space till suddenly Neil, fired with excitement, jumped hurriedly to his feet. "Say, Alison, Old Peter said it was going to be moonlight tonight, and the ghost only appears on clear, starry nights. What do you say to a ghost-hunt to-night.” “Too right,” tomboy Alison was just as eager for some fun as her daring young twin. Hastily they made plans for the expedition. “We’ll leave about half-past eleven, the lights always appear at twelve sharp,” said Neil. “It would be best to sleep with our clothes on, wouldn't it,” suggested the more practical Alison. Thus it was arranged. Late that night, when the slumbering countryside was bathed in the silvery moonlight, two slight figures, clad in dark coats, stole softly over the green sward and up the path which led up to the castle. Silently the two conspirators slipped away through the bushes to where looming dark and forbidding in the still night was the grim ruins of Rockyholme. As they drew near, Alison in a panic of fear, clutched her brother’s arm. With an inarticulate gurgle she pointed fearfully up to the tower. Neil was conscious of an icy thrill of fright creeping up his spine, for gliding slowly along the top of the tower was a weird ghostly figure, swathed in flowing robes of white. “The ghost of Rockyholme!” murmered Neil incredulously. ‘Yes,” whispered Alison, "but I heard voices, Pm certain I did,” Neil listened intently, then with a muttered ejaculation he eped away through the tangled undergrowth, till he came to a great nail-studded door—the one time entrance to the Castle. The door was ajar and the rough uncouth voices of men floated down the stairs, “Hey •Take, it’s about time to signal Tom and tell him he needn’t play ghost any more till next moonlight night”. "Right, Silver-sands don’t suspect, police’ll never know—but we’ll have t’ lie low.” The voices grew lower, and the words were inaudible to the waiting boy. Neil’s brain was in a whirl, but he just happened to glance down, and noticed his Scout’s badge, "Be Prepared”. The motto flashed through his mind like lightning and with it he acted. He dashed back to the trembling Alison, and explained briefly what was happening. “I thought it would be best to go back and get the police,” he finished. Together the two daring children sped back to Silver-sands and informed the police. A little party of strong stalwart men gathered round and soon all were filing away through the tangled shrubs to Rockyholme. Reaching the Castle the constable gave quick, curt orders to the men and they sped stealthily up the stairs. Revolver in hand the constable strode into the room and what a sight met his eyes. The turret-room was transformed into a regular smugglers’ kitchen, and seated on some barrels, chuckling with satisfaction at the way they had out-witted the villagers, were some half dozen rascally looking fellows—the smugglers. However with the business-like revolvers of the other men before them, they were quickly subdued and with fast handcuffed hands were taken to Silver-sands and installed in the village “lock-up.” Next day a very happy but tired Alison and Neil were delighted beyond measure with the arrival of two of the loveliest bicycles there ever was—to use their own words. And the following note accompanied them. “To Alison and Neil in memory of the occasion when they laid the ‘Ghost of Rockyholme’.” (signed) P.C. Jones. —2 marks to Cousin lona Campbell (12) Spur Head, Edendale South.