The WENDY HUT LETTERBOX

Taranaki Daily News, 30 August 1930, Page 9 (Supplement)

The WENDY HUT LETTERBOX

LETTERS to U AddrestW: "WENDY," Cart Taranaki Daily New®, Box lit. NEW PLYMOUTH.

Buster Corbett. Ralapiko.— Was the bantam sitting on the eggs? Did you hear about the duck that Snuff brought home? Well, it is still here, and the Hut Gardener likes it because it eats up all the slugs and snails. I do not know whose it can be because nobody with ducks lives within miles of us.

Keith Winstanley, Awakino. —I am so glad you have joined, Keith. 1 suppose you are almost wishing you were back at school so that you could begin on the primer HI. reading book. Peter and Pam are to begin on their primer 11. book this term, but they will not be able to catch up to you. Ronnie Winstanley, Awakino. —You poor old things, all" having chickenpox. You must have looked a funny quartette. Never niind, how you have had it you should never catch it again. Billikins and the twins have had it, too, but Baby Margaret has escaped so far. I suppose she will catch it sometime.

Wally Winstanley, Awakino.—l should like to have seen Owen’s drawing, and next time he docs one tell him to send it along with your letters. Yes, there are hundreds and hundreds of letter boxes in New Plymouth and a number, of postmen too. The lint Gardener made us such a pretty little letter- box. He made it like a tiny white house with a green roof, but we do not use it much because Billikins and Bouncer always run down to meet the postman. “Golden Slippers,” Rahofu.--Jean must be a funny little thing, just like Pam, whq used to find the dead Howers from the vases and try to plant them again. . She gave Peter such a scolding last night because he hurried over his prayers because he wanted to ‘see what Billikins was doing. She is a very proper little lady, is Pam!

Marion Guilosson, Stratford.—l hope your Daddy and Grandfather will soon be better, and you, too. Now that we are having more sunbeams to visit us you should soon recover. Such a number of people In New Plymouth have had jaundice. Have you any dolls? Pain says her dolly is in hospital too with “ammonia.'’ ft is very sad indeed. •‘Rio Rita,” Te Kiri.—Do you know, when Peter was a little chap he used to exaggerate terribly! One day I was very busy and he ran in and said, “Wendy, Billikins made faces at me. ’ “Oh! never mind, dear, faces can fc hurt.” “But he poked his tongue out at me,” said Peter, with indignation. “Well, that was very rude of him, but that couldn’t do you any harm.” Exasperated. his little checks flaming, and determined to make an impression .ne said, “But he nearly hit me with it, Wendy!”

Sylvia Price, Oakura.-—Thank you for the. poetry, dear. Poor little Bernice; is his foot very much hurt? Can you ride the new horse? Buster can jump quite high now because Billikins nas raised the hurdles little by little. Bimbo stands alongside and watches Buster jump, and was once inspired to jump himself. Ho Hew over the first one, but his legs were so stiff that that was enough for him. Doreen Williams, Eltham.— I have just answered “Rio Rita's” letter. Her address is Miss Rita Watson, Te Kiri. Would you like to call the new calf “Septimus” because she or he will be your seventh and that is what that name means. I am glad you have not forgotten us, even though you have joined the Radio Circle too.

Jack Corbett, Ratapiko.—You should enter fox* the competition and tell us all about your new pony, Jack. Hurry up and try. Billikins is not allowed to go birds’ nesting here because we have dozens of nests and such a number of birds in the bush, and they live here so happily and trust us so sincerely that we would not destroy that trust for the world. Thank you for the riddles.

Avis Haun, Stratford. —Nona does sound an attractive little calf. Good girl for making the neatest scrap book Tn the class. I liked the flowers on the back of the paper and gave them to Baby Margaret. She took Teddy down to the beach yesterday and dropped him in a pool. She was so sorry, and Teddy is wonderful; he never turns a hair.

Gwen Brisco, Ngacre. —You want to call your calf alter a bush flower? Well, what about “Orchid?” Would that suit your? Or anothex- flower- that throws wild in the bush is' “Clematis.” Are you fond of the bush? I love the smell of the earth, the stillness and the errand old trees covered with mosses and other parasites.

Moira Hobcn, New Plymouth.—You are lucky children living so close to the seaside. Just think what fun it would bo to pop out of bed in the summer, into bathing costumes, and then a chase down to the beach before splashing into the waves. That is what we do here, only we have the river, which is not nearly so much fun as the sea. I suppose you have changed schools too, have you? Our Peter wants to know how that young brother, Peter, of yours, is behaving himself. Have you caught right up to Keith yet?

Heather Bells,” Kupe.—Billikins says you ought to play a game called ‘ Kick the can.” I could not think Of one for you at the moment, but he eaye this is <rreat fun, only he does not know why it is called that. It is just the same as hide and seek, only in den there is a ball, and when whoever is “she” sees anyone she has to run to den and touch the ball. That means that whoever was seen is captured. Then “she” goes off again and if another one hiding can reach the den and kick the ball out of den before “she” can catch her, the captured one can run off and hide again, so whoever is “she” has to be doubly alert. Then when she has caught everyone and there is no one who can sneak in to kick the ball and let anyone free, the first caught ie “she” all over again. I hope it is clear. If you cannot understand any part of it, just write again and afile

I Ruth Billing, Rahotu. —Thank you for the riddles; they are good ones. Ho>v do yoc like having tests? Billikins was away with his cold.at the end of the term, so he has tests to look forward > to at the beginning of next term. How- ’• ever, the thought is not worrying him : a great deal nor spoiling his holidays, i We are going for a tramp to-morrow <ip towards the ranges. The Hut Carpenter i is coming too, and he is going to | “piggy-back” Baby Margaret when she gets tired.

Ivy Hollis, New . Plymouth.—Now then, young lady, how would you like it if I allied you Master Ivy Hollis? I am not “Mr. Wendy” any more than you are Master Ivy. I think you must have been having a little dream when you wrote that. Billikins laughed as lie handed me the letter, and said with a bow, “What suit will you -wear to--day, sir?” Thank you so much for all the poetry and riddles. Janet Wright, Okoke.—Welcome Janet and thank you for the poetry. That would teach the greedy .picaninny a lesson, wouldn’t it? I just wonder what fairy flew over and whispered in your ear how much I love the scent of those verbena leaves you sent me. They were faded, but still smelt so sweetly. Grace Smeaton, Bell Block.—So yon are still alive! We are very pleased to hear it, and to have such a good letter from you. Hurry up and send in your entry for the competition. What are you wearing to the fancy dress bail? Such a number of 'links are sitting for proficiency this year, and will be working hard in the last term. Good lues to you all!’ Call your calf “Millie.”

Marion Anderson, Stratford.—Good! Another Brownie joined! Pam wauls to be a Brownie so badly, but she is too far away to go into the meetings all by herself, so we make believe and I put her through different tests. She can almost tie her knots and tries to make her bed, but of course, we do not take off points for all the bumps and when the blankets hang down, because it is hard for a five-year-old. Write and tell me all about yoxn* badges, won't you? Paitie Anderson, Stratford. —Will you. be able to fly up into the guides and wear the pretty wings on your new uniform? What has been the matter with Elsie? I hope she will soxin be well again, The children were so tired after being.out all day that they are asleep already, and it is just five minutes ago that I turned the light out. Do you like going to bed? Billikins does like to stay up late.

Donald Woods, Pukengahu.—So you are one of the lucky little people who are going away fox' the holidays. Yes, I think that is a good name fox - youxlamb. We sec the awkward- little calves trying to gambol in the fields like lambs, and Billikins says it reminds him of a clumsy man trying to do fancy dancing. We hope you will have a happy holiday. When are yon going to think of a pen-name?

Nola Des Forges. Urenui. —Thank you for the poetry, Nola. Tinkerbed asks if you are going to colour your enrolment card. Do youx- people call you “Cross Patch'” when you get out of bed on the wrong side? That is’ what we call anyone who docs that here.

“Camc’ia,” Koru. —We have such a beaxitiful tree of eamelias out, Myrtle, but the tuis come and spoil the flowers in getting the nectar out of them. We should not like to have the tuis but foxtheix- beautiful voices. We had four here to-day, and sometimes even more come. They know what a beautiful garden we have, so they bring their friends to revel in the sunshine here. Where did you come in the class? Olive Tecofeky, Stratford. —We nave a “Silver Eye” but not a “Silver Eye Fairy,” so you may have that fox- your pen-name. What a lucky girl you are to be given so many presents. We liked the wee envelopes and paper. Baby Margaret is not past the mischievous age yet. Cookie found her trying to free her hands of golden syrup. She had put just one finger in first and then on a sudden impulse jammed hex- whole hand in. I never saw such a sticky mess. Mavis Welch, Tariki.—We should just love to see a photo of your baby. Is it brothel’ or sister? I have forgotten. Billikins says he can never tell whether a baby is a boy or a girl, because sometimes the girls are almost bald and the boys have all the hair, so he carefully avoids any gender except neuter, and calls the baby “It.” Call your calf “Susan.” “Bunty,” Egmont Village.—l wonder if you will be lucky on your birthday. I never win a raffle or anything. 1 seem to be always guessing how long a piece of string is or how many peas there are in a bottle, but I really never have any idea of how much or how many. I am so glad youx- little sistexwill be joining. Barbara Thompson, Kithara.—-History just shows us what a terrible amount of cruelty went on in the olden days, doesn’t it? You like stories about kings and queens and princesses, wlvle Billikins loiters ovex' all the battles and wars. I love the little White-eye too, only we always call dn'in Bright-eye. We seem to have a clan of them living in our budleia tree. I suppose they like the scent. »

Hilda Ruskin, Manaia.—Here is yovr name ready to greet you, and introduce you to all the Tinka, Hilda. Crip is a scamp. Does Gip hold on to a stick and let you swing him round and round? Bouncer holds on until Billikins gets go tired he has to let go. Dogs have such wonderful , strength in their jaws. . ,

“Gipsy Lass,’’ pungarehu. —Baby Margaret thanks Claire for the letter, She has almost a box full of correspondence now. I can see that I am going to have a hard task next week judging the essays and poems. Margaret Howman, Inglewood.Cookie has hunted everywhere for that caramel recipe, Margaret, and cannot think where it can be, because she knows the book that it is in. She is very sorry, and if she finds it will let you have it. Yes, we have thrushes hero, too —dozens of the. cheery little fellows.

Ella Harrison, Whangamomona. — Thank you for the riddles. I had better answer all the questions first, I suppose. We are all-very well, except Baby Margaret. She has a cold, but I tliink it is because she is cutting a molar. Yes, we have flowers, and flowers, and more flowers in the garden. The weather has been perfect, and the Hut Dressmaker is thinking about making our new spring clothes. Berys Burrell, Helensville. —Hullo, Lady'of the North, did the Mighty Tarzan have a thrilling finish? What an original fancy costume. Billikins’ seeds are peeping up, and he expects io have a very successful season. I. am very sad because some grub seems' to l>e 'at the roots of my nemesia, causing them to die one by one. Do you know what it can be? They are all in flower, too, and so pretty.

Irene Wilson, New Plymouth. —W? were pleased to hear that you had not put us in. a back cupboard of youi memory for always', Irene. I am sorry someone has that pen-name. You did very well to come so well up in so large a class. Goodness \mo, I should not like to be your teacher. Just imagine watching to see that nobody out of 47 talked, or shuffled his feet, or ate apples under the desk. Let us know how you get on with .your music examination.

“Cinderella,” Mahoenui. —I expect your house is the same. Ours seems to be full of children. Fortunately we have had splendid weather, except today, and they have played outside, but just now the nursery sounds as if it is full of wild animals. We all -spent yesterday up the river. We rowed .miles up, and it was perfect. The fields were so green and the little lambs so funny and°frolicsome. We had lunch on a big flat rock that was in almost the middle of the river, and Billikins, with the air of one who had been working strenuously, christened it the Island of Relaxation.

“Robin Hood,” Mahoenui. —You did write a gooxl letter, William, and sent such a jolly piece of poetry, too. With all those pets you should be able to entex- fox- the competition. Billikins, Peter and the Hui Carpenter went fishing to-day, and we all played on the peach. They 'caught one sehnapper, that only just went round fox’ breakfast, and three pipers, and all Peter caught were some sprats. They all. enjoyed it, however, and are going to try again next week. Alice —, Eltham.—l am glad you liked the card and had a happy birthday. Wo gave every Tink a photo of Baby Margaret. That was yours in your paper, so I could not send you another, dear, because I am afraid we have not got one. Hunt up the old paper and cut it out. How would you like to see Princess Elizabeth’s little sister? I hope they will call her Margaret. Thank you for the poetry.

Hazel and John Ray, Tali ora.—Well, I declare! Here you two write exactly the same letters as last week, or did I only dream that you wrote last week? When your letters came I thought I had met you before and read that news before. What happened? Anyway, thank you for the poetry and drawings. They did not come last week. Billikins suggests that perhaps .you thought we had not received your first letters. However, you will have your membership cards by now, and are really members.

Irene Humphries, Opunake.—Welcome, Irene! How is the leg? Too bad to be ill in the holidays, isn't it? Billikins seemed to make his cold get better more quickly as holidays approached. He worried the life out of Cookie when he was in bed, because whenever he was bored he thought ne would like something to eat. He would say, “Oh. come on, Cookie! One more piece. Starve a fever, feed a cold, you know!”

Alma Letts, York Road.—You will have to teach Dainty some more tricks now, won’t you? Billikins has taugnt Bouncer to ride with him on Buster. Bouncei- sits behind —at least, he really squats, and places his fore-paws on Billikin’s shoulders. ’He does look a picture, and rides well until Bustex* trots, when he jumps off. Tinkerbell’s primrose bed is very pretty now, too. “Daffodil,” Eltham.—Ah! I knew you could write well if you were careful, Ivy! Where does that envelope you used come from? It seems that there could surely be no unhappiness on such a beautiful day as this, and yet there is. Even now I can see a spider weaving its web to catch some unwary fly and a blackbird strutting across the lawn listening for a worm for his afternoon tea. So what appears to be a perfectly peaceful scene on the surface is really full of strific.

Reggie Rookes, Pungarelxu. —What a busy' young farmer you must be now. No, I think we shall not be getting any new pets. Wo seem .to have quite enough already. Ours are all very well, but the one great problem is why the baby goldfish will not grow up! They seem determined to stay young, and yet we give them every encouragement possible to help them grow. What do you think we should do? Their parents, Adam and Eve, do not seem to be at all perturbed. Mary Benny, Warea.—Thank you for the poetry, Mary. Has your little brother a craze for making parcels, too? Baby Margaret wraps up everything she can in brown paper—her Teddy and her toys. She took a paper bag with her this morning to bring her bantam’s egg in, and last night I could not find her nightie. At last she ran away and brought back a brown paper parcel containing her nightgown. She has been doing it ever since Peter and Pam played “shops” with her.

“Waratah,” Tirimoana. —I think there must be an upsetting fairy at work. Do you have some unlucky days when nothing seems to go right? Thank you for your poetry, dear. You always send such pretty verses and always verses that we have never had before. Yes, the children are having thiex- holidays now, too. It seemed like summer on the beach to-day, except that the water- was too cold even for paddling, and we had to come home much earlier than in summer time. We like summer best, too.

“Aotearoa,” Cardiff. —So youx- school has been money-making, too! What are you going to do with, it all ? Billikins says he would like to have a huge box full of pound notes, but I tell him that the more he had the more he wouril want, and that is quite true. We are having more than the signs of spring here now, Connie; we are really having spring. The bulbs are coming out'in abundance.

Beatrice —, Urenui. —Do you like riding in the cax- better than on a pony? Billikins was out fox- a ride on Buster the other day, and a little boy said, “Are you a cowboy?” "Yes,” said Billikins. “Then where’s your gun?” So Billikins had to explain that left his gun at home. He was carrying a rope, which I expect the boy thought was a lassoo. Billikins was very pleased. Thank you for the poetry.

Kathleen Travers, Tahora. —Tinkerbell is twelve years old, Kathleen. Do yoxx know what Snuff does now? Yon will never guess! Well, when Tinkerbell goes around tlie garden every morning, Snuff follows her and smells the flowers too. It sounds impossible, but it is absolutely true. The dear old thing seems almost human. Thank you for the poetry. Give our love to little Micky.

THE MYSTERIOUS MATCHBOX. Your friend will think you, are the possessor of a very mysterious matchbox when you tiy this trick on him. First of all get two empty matchboxes. Irito one place a number of used matches, and conceal this quite firmly in youx- coat sleeve. You must be quite sure that it won’t fall out. Then take the empty matchbox and show it to one of-your friends and ask him, rattling it hard, so that the concealed box rattles. “What have I in this box?” He’ll probably say, “Matches.” He may even suggest .it is something else. Then you open the matchbox an<l show him that it is empty. Perhaps he’ll want you to do it again. Well, you can quite easily, and he’ll be very mystified about it all. Especially when he finds that nothing happens when he shakes the box,

MR. SCARECROW. (Sent by Bernice Hunt.) There’s a ragged old man in the garden to-day, ' ■ ' - And gardener, laughing, says thers he can stay; ~ His coat is in tatters, he wears an old ’ fiat, And tfie birds do not like him, I’ui) quite sure of that. They chatter, chit-chatter up there in the tree, And aren’t half as friendly as they - used to be; ’ ‘ , But gardenei* says, “That’s a ; good job, indeed! If it weren’t for that old man, they’d have all my seed!” JANIE HAS GONE AWAY. (Sent by Sylvia Price.) Janie has gone away To live in a new • town, , \ And instead of the hills we know And the bine.of the sea Janie will see new houses And streets with shops and trams. Janie is very lucky, we think, To be where she’s going to be, For Janie is going to live in. a new House where, trains go by; All the day long from her window She’ll be able to see them pass, And at night in her.bed she will hea* The whistle arid roar of their wheels. But we, we still shall only see . The quiet fields and the grass, (Sent ,by Gordon Campbell.) .. . A I went to the pictures to-morrow. [ took a front seat at the back. I fell from the floor to the ceiling, And hurt the front of my back. < . ~~ • HULLO! HOLLY CALLING! I find it rather difficult to speak about myself, because, although I lock such a bold, prickly tree, I am quite shy. I have brothers and sisters all over the world, in tropical and temperate regions, and for long years. I have been used as a symbol of friend*; ship, health and good will. Long be? fore I was chosen to decorate your houses at Christmas, the Romans used to send sprigs of holly to their friends during the Saturnalia —a kind, of harvest feast in honour of Saturn, the god of seed-sowing. Perhaps I was taken as an emblem of friendship because I am evergreen. That part of myself'l call my’soul, and my soul is just as important as my body, the tree. I grow flexible branches which are „ used for whip handles and walking sticks, and, as my wood is hard and durable, I am useful for cog-wheels. I am also used for inlay work on account of my greenish white colour, and I am forced to do something else of which I am not proud. I catch birds! It is a horrible thing for a tree with a soul like mine to do, but you will see z for yourselves that I cannot help it. My little texidex- shoots are collected, prepared, and made into birdlime, which is used to trap the smaller birds. For in these shoots is hidden a sticky substance and man has turned this to his own unkind purpose. My red berries contain juices that are sometimes used in medicine, I am used as a decorative tree in gardens nearly all ever the world, and the farmer loves me because I make a good I send you the wishes of which I am the symbol—friendship, health and good will! But please don’t blame me tor the bird-catching!. Good-byel. . - • ' -s.i a • J < ■ ■ , . - ■

~ Last week we left the chums preparing for their camping trip up the river. Arrived at the boat-house, they decided to take the punt, because it would hold more than the boat and they had a good deal of “luggage.” Finally, everything was ready for the great adventure, and Gwen was waiting tc unfasten the punt so that the "voyage” could commecnce. “Are you all ready?” she" asked. “All ready!” replied Polly, “Let her go!”

But here the first accident happened! The punt, of course, was made fast to ♦h* hank and Gwen should have got in before she unfastened the rope.. Instead, she bank, and, before she knw, what had happened the punt was floating away down the stream, and she was left standing on dry land. “Mil—-How do I net aboard?” she screamed. “Of course, you would make a mess of it,” yapped Richard.. “Stay there until we come back for you." '

At last the chums managed to get the punt back to the bank, and Gwen jumped In safely. Richard said he would pole the pUnt up the nver, but Gwen demanded first “?°had to unfasten it, so I think I deserve first turn,” she argued. "All right,” said Richard, "But mind how you go! We dont want to run into the bank too often.” , “Don’t vou think I know how to manage it? snapped Gwen. "Oh! do get along with it,” grumbled Polly, “We've been here half an hour already.” )

Perhaps Gwen was punished because she was so determined to have her own way! Really, she didn’t know much about punting, but she had been rather irritated at having made a mess of unfastening the rope at the start, and J’ o*' 0 *'. she . w^ nte J to show off a bit. But she was soon to regret it. She had hardly left the bank when the pole became fixed in the mud at the bottom of the stream and then she got into difficulties! ,

Of course Gwen fell into the water, and all she could do when she came to the surface was to cling to the pole, and wait while Richard paddled the Punt back to her. It took him quite a time to do this, so Gwen had a real good bath while she waited. Richard could not help teeasing her. . ■ , “Why didn’t you say you were going for a swim, he asked. “Don’t try to be funny with me,” hissed Gwen. “Do help her on board,” chuckled Polly, “Or we shall never make a start.

When they startted off again, Gwen was quite content to allow Richard to pole the punt. She sat there very wet and miserable hoping, lam afra "J> that. Richard would fall Into the water! But he kept his balance, and so she had nothing to cons e a a jolly expedition, I must say,” she moaned. '’Well, you did it yourself,” said Polly. “Never mind! We’ll have plenty of fun when we start camping.” * expect they will, don’t you?

FOR ALL OCCASION’S.

The turn was over and the orchestra were silent for a while. “I say,” said the conductor, leaning down to speak to his first violin, "whatever key were you playing in ?” “Skeleton key,” returned the violinist j-eadily enough. “Skeleton key?” echoed the conductor. “Whatever do you mean?” . “Jits anything,” was the reply...

The meal was over and the maid had returned to the kitchen with the empty plates. “What had the master to eay?” asked the cook.' “He’s just been praising your pastry,” replied the maid guardedly. “Tell me what he said,” urged the other impatiently. “Well, he said he didn’t know how you did it,” said the maid. “Did what?” broke in the cook. “Make bricks without straw,” was the young girl’s reply.