OUR OWN STORY-TELLERS

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 18659, 30 August 1930, Page 12

OUR OWN STORY-TELLERS

THE ADVENTURE IN WHITENBURY ABBEY. During the Christmas holidays Barbara and Allan Baxter went to stay with their grandmother at Whitenbury Abbey. They were both very excited because they had been told about a ghost that walked round the house on Christmas Eve. This ghost was supposed to be their father’s great uncle Rufus, who died in the Abbey a hundred years ago. After having had some dinner, the children, who were just itching to explore the old Abbey, ran up to the top storey, but as it was rather dark and dusty they could not see much, so they came down again feeling rather disappointed. When tea was over they went up to their rooms to hang up their stockings, for it was Christmas Eve, the night when Father Christmas goes round filling up all the stockings. In the excitement of preparing for Father Christmas’s visit they forgot all about the ghost. “I think we had better go down and say goodnight to Grandma, called Allan from his room. “Yes,” answered Barbara, “you come to my door and we shall go down together. “So Allan came along the dimly lighted passage and stood outside Barbara’s room. “Hurry up, Bar—! Oh, Barbara!” he gasped, and rushed into her room. “The ghost! It is at the other end of the passage!” And taking her hand he drew her out into the passage. There, sure enough, was the ghost, tall, thin, and dressed in long white robes, gliding silently towards them. The two children stood clasping each others hands and shaking with fear. They edged their way towards the top of the stairs where they were a few yards further away from the ethereal figure. They were about to turn and run down the stairs, when suddenly a panel in the wall slid open and the figure stepped through; whereupon the door shut again. Barbara turned to Allan. “I am going,” she said, in a trembling voice, and ran down the stairs, followed by Allan. They knocked at Grandma’s door and when summoned to enter, they burst into the room. “Oh, Grandma!” said poor Barbara, who was now crying, “we saw the ghost walking in the passage.” Grandma aughed softly. “Oh children!” she said, “that was not a ghost; it ” “Oh! but it was!” interrupted the children, “because it was dressed in white and went through a magic door in the wall.” “No, no,” said Grandma, “that was Wilson, the*footman, that you saw. I asked him if he would be a ghost and walk along the passage so that you children would think it was the ghost you had been 60 excited about. There is no ghost in the Abbey, so do not be afraid.” These words pacified

the children, and they returned to their rooms not a bit frightened. In fact, Barbara felt a weeny bit ashamed of herself. When they woke in the morning their stockings were full of toys and fruit, and they spent a happy day playing together with their presents. (5 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to “Numpie”—lsabel Dune*n, Timaru, aged 14.) AN ADVENTURE WITH A BEAR. This is the most ‘peaceful holiday one can have—in the country, where nobody can worry you and far away from the hurry and bustle of the town!” This remark was made by a lad of about sixteen summers, with a ruddy face where a pleasant smile always lingered. He spoke this cheerily to his friend, who was of a different countenance, with fair skin and blue eyes, but a sombre, almost solemn face. “Well,” replied John, “I do like the country, but I think you are less likely to come into contact with wild, ferocious animals if you stay in town.” “Wild animals!” echoed Eric, with shining eyes; “why, it would be the best fun in the world to have a bear or a leopard or some such thing chasing you!” “Oh! Would it! You would think just the opposite if you had such an experience l” These words had scarcely left John’s lips when a rustling of dead leaves broke the stillness of the forest. Turn ng round, John turned deadly pale, :'or, standing but a few yards behind him, was a bear—a colossal creature, with a wicked gleam in its eyes. “Hooray!” shouted Eric, “Now for some fun!” He was about to walk up to the bear, but was quickly turned aside by his chum. “You idiot, you must be fond of being hugged!” John cried. The bear growled, and snorted hideously, and the boys wondered what they could do to defend themselves. It seemed almost impossible to escape. There were plenty of tall trees around, but as bears climb them better than ’coys, there would have been no 6ense in that. Then John had a brain-wave. “I say,” Eric, he cried in excited tones, “do you remember having seen an old hut down the track a little way?” “Yes, come along,” and the pair ran to the hut, followed by the hungry and angry bear. Alas! when they reached it they found, to their dismay, that the door was clayed half-way up and could not be even forced open. The bear, by this time, had almost reached them, and their doom would certainly have been sealed, had not a hunter appeared, and fired at the bear. He hit it, and the animal rolled over, groaning piteously. The boys thanked their rescuer, and Eric declared that such adventures were not so thrilling as he had imagined. But, as he afterwards declared, “All’s well that ends well!” (5 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to Lottie Sapwell, Timaru, aged 15.)