A Little World for Little People

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 382, 16 June 1928, Page 29

A Little World for Little People

friendship is a steady light shining in dark places

ONE MORNING

HAS auyone seen my fountain pen about ?” asked the Doorkeeper, fumbling hurriedly in all his pockets and including in his search those of the patient Joyshop man as well. “I had it just a moment ago and I want it most particularly.” “What sort of pen is it, and why do you need it?” queried his friend, with a slow, mysterious smile. “It’s a pen that holds ink and yet runs like a fountain. Sometimes it makes blots just to show its independence. As a matter of fact, it once belonged to the Dawn Lady. She couldn’t understand its whims, so lam taking care of it. I need it just at present to jot something down.” “Something of a private nature?” “Yes. I have just been looking at that competition story picture and it has given me an idea.” “Just one?” “Yes. All great happenings occur singly. Have you seen my pen ?” “Of course, I have,” answered the Joyshop man, his slow, mysterious smile breaking into a hearty laugh. “I’m looking at it now. It’s behind your ear. . . . Look, here comes the Little Thought with his eyes full of dreams. I wonder where he has been.” “I?” murmured the Little Thought. “I have just been talking to a little girl with eyes like brown pansies. She was sitting in the sun in a 'wheel chair, listening to the voices of the trees and birds and flowers. I told her about Doctor Spring Sunshine, who has promised to pay a yearly visit to Happy Town, and how he makes all the flowers stand up bravely on their stems. When she is well she is going to play with me and, until then, I am going to visit her each week, talk to her, and watch the antics of Monty the monkey. He’s a toy one and she makes him do most wonderful tricks. When I called on her she was writing a letter to the Dawn Lady.” “The Pixie Postman will be very careful of that letter,” said the Doorkeeper, gently. “Perhaps she will write a story about those little men painting the poppies, too. Isn’t there a wonderful moon in the picture?” “Yes,” remarked the Joyshop man, “that’s put in to show that things like that only happen at night. Peterkin, Potterkin and Pip would be good names for those queer little artists.” “But there’s another in the picture,” said the Doorkeeper, earnestly,” and that’s what I wanted my pen for. I had an idea for a name for him. It was ‘Samuel’.” “Samuel?” echoed the Joyshop man. “Why Samuel?” “Oh, I don’t know, friend. Perhaps it’s just because such A a name would lend him or)\ _T O_AaJ dignity, especially as he has At/ rvU ( been put by mistake in the _ ' — 1 background of the picture.” V,