A VISIT TO THE STORM GOBLINS

Taranaki Daily News, 20 December 1924, Page 10 (Supplement)

A VISIT TO THE STORM GOBLINS

Story Competition Under 16 Years. FIRST PRIZE. (By Mary Garcia, New Plymouth, age 15 years 4 months.) It was a wet day. Outside the wind howled dismally and the rain came down with ever-increasing force. In the firelight sat a little girl grumbling about the weather, while around her were strewn the books and toys with which she had been amusing herself.

“How I wish it were fine!” sighed Betty. “I did so want to go to Trixie's birthday party, but Mamma says it is too wet.” As she was thus bemoaning the weather she felt someone touch her on the shoulder. Turning. she beheld the quaintest little man ever seen. He was dressed in black, with a bright yellow cap, and he looked so queer that for a moment Betty was afraid. The goblin seemed to know this, for he spoke to her in such a gentle voice that her fear subsided. “Do not be frightened, little girl,” he said. “I will not harm you. I thought you looked very sad and lonely, so I came in to see what was the matter.”

“I wanted to go to a party, but it is too wet,” said Betty. “It is always wet when I want it to be fine.”

“Too wet? Well, well! That’s too bad! I shall have to see what I can do. But I am a storm goblin and help to bring the rain, so perhaps you may not care to have me amuse you. The poor thirsty trees and plants would all d : e without the rain, too. You would not like that, would you?”

“No, indeed!” said “and I really would like to play with you.” “Well, then, what shall we do?” asked the goblin. “Would you like to come with me to watch the wind sprites ?”

“Oh! I should love to!” cried Betty. “But shan’t I get wet?” looking at her pretty frock. “Not if you do as I tell you,” answered the little man. “Close your eyes and turn round three times.”

Bettv obeyed, and he began to chant a quaint song. When she opened her eyes again she saw that she was the same size as the goblin and dressed in the same style. “Come!” he cried. “Follow me.”

Betty ran after him and he caught her hand. Straight for the window he ran, and Betty caught her breath as she thought they must be dashed against the glass. But no! They were out in the night and were among many other goblins, so like the one she was with that Betty wondered how one could be told from another. Her goblin flew among these, but he did not stop to talk to them, flying straight on looking for some wind sprites. “Oh!” Betty heard him say, “there are some. See, over there.”

Betty looked and saw some little people trying to pull down a big tree. Betty and the goblin flew over tn them and asked: “Why are you doing that?”

They answered: “We heard the farmer say he wished this tree were fcllc'J so we thought we won'd do it for him.” “Oh!” said Betty, “what kin-1 people you are.” On they flew, and then she saw two more sprites pulling barn. Betty was shocked and said to her companion! “Why are they destroying the barn* All the hay will be lost.” “They arc bad sprites,” answered the goblin. “It is such sprites as they that make this wind disliked. The wind itself is a good fellow and amuses himself with harmless games, such as blowing off boys’ hats. But these bad sprites take a delight in destroying things.”

By this time they were close to the sprites, who heard the last few words of the goblin. Turning around they saw Betty and her companion and rushed at them.

“Run.” called the little man. Betty tried to run but she could not. Her legs seemed paralysed. She felt the sprite catch her by the shoulders and shake her hard.

“'Wake up. Betty,” she heard someone saying, and sleepily opening her eyes, she saw her mother.

“Why. mother, f have been in the wind and rain with a fairy,” said Betty. But mother only smiled as she said: “It is long past bed-time dearie.”