A KOWHAI FAIRY.

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 17756, 17 September 1927, Page 12

A KOWHAI FAIRY.

(By V. Deroles)

Last year I found the little kowhai fairies in their golden palace in a kowhai tree.

It was a beautiful spot for a palace. The sun shone on the yellow blossoms, the wind made ' them dance quaintly, and a stony little creek just down the bank sang as it hurried to the river.

Near by, up the slope of the hill, the fairies could see the dark masses of the hush. Above and beyond, their white peaks sparkling in the sun, were the mountains. The fairies were busy polishing the tuis’ golden honey cups, and they were happy always. That is, all but one—Sunshine—who was not quite satisfied. She looked across at the bush every day and wondered what was under the tall trees. She thought it would lie so jolly to play in the lacy ferns and run through some of the dark archways right down into the hush. She would then come home and tell her wondering playmates of all her adventures. One day when Sunshine was far out on the lowest branch she noticed that she was quite alone. “Now,” she thought, "is my chance.” “Yes, come, come,” whispered the grasses. So Sunshine gently put down the cup she was polishing and floated on a wild little wind to the ground. Laughing softly to herself, she ran along the little pathway towards the bush. There was a log on the path. Sunshine sprang lightly on it; but it was rotten, and crumbling under her feet, sent her tumbling to the ground. The pulpy mass began to heave and tremble. Sunshine, much alarmed, jumped to her feet. Presently a beautiful, velvety peripatus crawled out on top, and Sunshine was delighted. “Oh!” she cried, “I was afraid that I had broken the Earthquake’s home. Pretty caterpillar, will you play with me?” The peripatus answered not a word. He did not like being called a caterpillar, and I am sorry to say he very rudely spat at her. He is not at all a gentleman, for all his fine hrown-and-purple coat, and spitting is quite a habit of his. Sunshine was disgusted, as well she might be, and hurried on into the bush.

Under a fern in the edge of the bush white moths were sleeping and waiting until the sun had set. They would then flutter out in the moonlight to the beautiful clematis fairies Starshine and Moonlight, who always gave them their supper. But Sunshine shook the fronds as she passed, and out flew the moths in a frightened little cloud. Sunshine chased them here and there, getting (though she did not know it) deeper and deeper into the bush, and for safety, too far out of sight of the yellow tree. Had she noticed how dark it was getting. I think she would have stopped. The white moths fluttered down on a leaf where she thought she could reach them; but just as she was about to touch them, off they flew, and again the laughing fairy chased them.

“I shall catch you yet,” said she. The moths heard, and _ sailed gently round and round above her head, then darted straight up into the tall trees out of sight. Sunshine looked about. The sky was completely hidden by the thick bush overhead. All around were trees, more trees, tall ferns and creepers. It was very dark and quiet. Even the birds were not singing here, and the poor little fairy felt very frightened. She knew she was lost, and there did not seem to be a living creature about to tell her where to go or what to do. Suddenly she spied a little door in a tree just opposite. She did not pause to wonder who lived in such a queer house in the dark hush, but stepped boldly up and knocked loudly. Then she watched eagerly while the door slowly opened. 'Next instant she clapped her hands over her face and shivered with fright. A terrible-looking creature was I\lr Weta, with his long feelers waving furiously, and his black, beady eyes glittering, and it was Mr Weta who opened the door and jumped down in front of Sunshine. To make matters worse, Mr Weta was dreadfully angry.

“Ho!” he cried, standing up to his full height on his powerful hoppers and waving his feelers and his four legs in the air, “and now what next?”

“Oh! Oil!” gasped Sunshine. “Tell me what you want at once!” roared the Weta.

Sunshine took one hand down, and nervously clutching her dress, peeped at Mr Weta. She had never dreamed of such an awtul monster, and although she did not know it she was in great danger, for lie was a wizard, and a wicked one at that. “I am lost,” said the fairy, “and please if you could tell me how r to find my way out ot the bush, I’d like to go hack to my home.in the kowhai tree.” “I’ll do nothing of the sort, answered the Weta. “And what is more, I am not going to have people interfering with me like this. If you are not out of the hush by sunrise to-morrow, fairy or no fairy, I shall change you into a dewdrop.” With that lie jumped out of sight. Sunshine turned and lied. She rail and rail until she w'as too tired to run any more. “Oli, what is the use?” she said, as she sank down on a mossy root. “There is nothing but the bush, bush all round. It is getting darker every minute, and I know that I can’t find my way out. If Igo on I might meet some more dreadful wizards —hut oh! I do not want to he a dew'drop,” and she commenced to cry. A tui sat high up in a tall rirnu tree, and lie heard tho little fairy sobbing. He was a kind-hearted follow", and lie wondered who was in trouble. He thought, perhaps, he might be able to help, so lie glided down to one of tlie lower branches. “Clang, clonic!” he said, softly and enquiringly. “Tui! Tui!” cried Sunshine, jumping up. She knew him well, for she had helped her playmates to give him his breakfast every morning. “Why, little Sunshine in the dark bush!” exclaimed the Tui. “Whatever are you doing here?” “I w r as very, very foolish,” answered Sunshine. “I wanted to know what was in the bush, so I ran away this morning, and now I am lost. I asked the Weta to show me the v’ay out, and he was ever so angry. He told me that he would change me into a dew'drop if I were not out of the bush by to-morrow morning. I don’t w r ant to be a dewdrop, and I think the bush is a dark, dreadful place,” and she started sobbing again. “Now don’t cry, little fairy,” said the Tui. “The bush is not a dreadful place, really. The folk who live here love it, and would be very unhappy and frightened if they had to live out in the open, where your golden palace is.”

"Please show me the way out, Tui,” begged Sunshine. “Tlie bush people can stay here; hut I do not belong here, and I cannot stop.” “In the morning,” said the Tui, I shall take you on my back and fly off with you, so that at sunrise you will be back again in your golden palace. You must creep close up under that tree-fern and sleep until I come down for you. You will be safe and warm there.”

Sunshine thanked the Tui, and did as she was told. She was warm and safe, certainly, but she did not enjoy her night in the bush. Every time she moved the fern rustled, and crackled, and she longed for her soft, silky bed. in the kowhai tree. Twice through the night she awoke with a start. Once she heard stealthy footsteps over the leaves on the forest floor. Sunshine thought it was the Weta, but it was only a weka, who went straight past and did not see her. Another time a ruru on the top of a rimu called "More-pork! Morepork!” The Tui spoke to him, and he flew 1 away. At dawn Sunshine sailed home on the Tui’s back just as the fairies were ringing their golden bells to call the Tuis to breakfast.

This year I went to see the fairies again, and a very sad sight met my eyes. The bush o'n the side of the hill had been cut down. It was lying there a mass of tangled, dead brown limbs, ferns and creepers. The birds were gone. But, worst of all, on the bank of the stream, the kowhai tree was lying. The blossoms that had once been golden were brown and dead like the bush. The golden palace was smashed, and the fairies were gone! Where shall I find them again?

HANS SAVES THE TOWN.

I wonder how many New Zealand boys and girls know the thrilling story of how Hans saved the town? It is an old Dutch story, and for many generations, parents have told it to their children to encourage them to be brave and bold, and to endure suffering for the sake of others. I expect you know what kind of country Holland is; very flat and low-lying, with great walls built up to keep the sea from flooding the land. These are called dykes, and are really huge banks, as wide as roads. If anything happens to the dykes the country may be ruined, and the crops, the houses and even people's lives be in danger. _ There was a boy called Hans who lived long ago in Haarlem. He and his smrbrother were out one fine day playing in the fields among the flowers, and a good way from the town. Hans went and sat on the top of the dyke, and his brother played about at the bottom. Presently the little boy called out to him: “Come and look at this queer little hole,” he said. “It’s bubbling.” o „ , , “Whatever do you mean?” asked Hans lazily. “There’s a hole in the bank, answered his brother, “and it’s full of water.” Hans was not lazy any* more. He jumped up and slid rapidly down the bank. There he saw the little hole and a drop of water bubbled slowly through it. “It’s a hole in the dyke,” said Hans in horror. “What are we to do?”

They were far away from any house or any people and Hans knew very well that the little hole in the dyke would soon become a great gap through which masses of water would burst. Should he run to get help? That would take a dreadfully long time. Even as he looked, the hole grew bigger and the water was beginning to trickle quite steadily. Suddenly an idea struck him. He put his little forefinger right into the hole, and instantly the water was stopped up. Then-he spoke to his brother. “Run as quickly as ever you can to Haarlem,” he said, “and tell the men there’s a hole in the dyke. Tell them I will keep it stopped up until they come.” Off ran the little hoy as fast as Ins chubby legs could carry him, till he disappeared from sight. Hans was left all alone. He sat huddled on the ground, his finger tight in the bank. He could hear the water rumbling away, and it sounded horribly near. His hand was feeling rather cold and numb, and lie tried to get it warmer by rubbing it with his other hand; but it wasn’t any good. Soon the cold began creeping up his arm. He felt little pains shooting through his arm and hand, and he was very lonely. He gazed along the road, but there was no' soul in sight. He put his h against the dyke to rest his s>--slioulder, and again he heard the rumbling of the great sea. It seemed to be saying, “Don’t try to keep me out. What can you do against me? I’m coming through.” Ilans was really frightened _ now, and he began to pull out his fingei. “I must run while I can,” he told himself. Then the brave boy remembered that if he did run, the water would soon break down the dyke and the sea would pour :n over the land. The safety of so much depended upon his keeping that, li'-ls finger in the hole. He clenched ins teeth. “I -won’t run away,” he said. The minutes went slowly by, and then he made out some black specks in the distance. The specks moved very fast, and soon Hans saw that they were men running. One was his own father, and he called out: “Hold on, Hans; I’ll soon be with you ” The men had pickaxes and shovels with them to mend the dyke, and when they came up and saw poor tired Hans, with his finger tight in the hole, they gave a great cheer. They picked the boy up in their amns, rubbed his poor stiff hands, and when they had mended the dyke they carried him shoulder high through the streets of Haarlem amid the shouting of crowds. Hans was a real hero, and to this day the people of Haarlem tell of his bravery.

LITTLE LAUGHS.

Little Boy (to Big Boy): ‘‘What does narrative mean?” Big Boy: “A tale.” Little Boy: “What does extinguish mean?” Big Boy: “To put out.” Little Boy: “Well, catch that dog by his narrative and extinguish him.” (Sent by “Skipper,” I imam) . Mrs Jones: “What was all that noise in your house last night?” Jimmy: “My brother Ned upset a pot of treacle on his head, and mother was combing his hair.” School Master: “You mustn’t say ‘I ain't going.’ You must say ‘I am not going. He is going. We are not going.’ ” Tommy: “Ain’t nobody going?” Mother: “I hope you did’nt ask for too much cake at the party?” Willie: “Oh, I did’nt have to ask. The cake stand was just m front oi mo.”