OUR OWN VERSE MAKERS.

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXIV, Issue 18832, 21 March 1931, Page 12 (Supplement)

OUR OWN VERSE MAKERS.

MY WILLOW HOUSE. We have a lovely willow tree Which makes a splendid house for me. The branches curve and reach the ground, Which makes my house so green and round. *Tis there I often love to go To read my book or sit and sew, And when it is too hot to play 'Tis such a lovely place to stay. I have a table and a chair, A cupboard, and a doll’s bed there, A gramophone and tea-set blue, And all my dollies live there, too. And here my dollies go to school To learn to keep the golden rule, To read and write and count as well, And run to play when I ring the bell. And when I have a holidav I always have a picnic gay Beneath this dear old willow tree, Which makes a splendid house for me. <5 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to “It,” Dorothy Lyne, Timaru, aged 7). TO A HOCKEY PLAYER. There she stands, defender of the goal, All alert and ready for the ball, When it should fall Into that dangerous hole. Her tall, slim figure is in readiness bent, Awaiting the moment When her skill and care will be spent On saving the goal. A goal to gain, five minutes to go, And then her side will conquer their foe. The whistle blows as the ball draws near, She tackles in time, but just to hear The referee shout that the game is done, And the crowd applauds the side that has won. (5 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to "Eastern Queen," Iris Woolley, Hong Kong, aged 14). A DEWY MORN. A dewy morn before me spreads, Oh! why are people in their beds? On much a glorious morn as this I rise, to catch the sun’s first kiss. The sun now sails majestically Across the sky. and ’neath the lee, In sparkling splendour, ’fleets the sun In all its diamonds, every one. ,(3 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to "Topsy,” Jessie Hewson, Seadown, aged 12). BUYING A NEW HAT. Mother took Clare to the milliner’s store, Where hats were there, score after score. The hat she wanted was a brownish kind, With a bow at the side (’twould suit her mind!) But not one could the milliner find. She tried on panamas, navy and blue, And cr nolincs. pink and purple, too, But her mother said those would Never do! “They rs too dainty for a girl like you.” Some were too big. some were too small, And ethers wouldn’t fit her head at all, But as the time was flying fast, Clare's mother thought she would finish her task. So she hastily ordered a woollen beret, Even into that Clare’s head wouldn't get. So at last she cried out in despair, “What a big head you’ve got, troublesome Clare! I’ll ne’er again bring you to buy a new hat, But I’ll make you one out of a sugarsack!” (1 Mark and a Merit Card awarded to "Bluebell Maiden,** Noreen Hodgson, Pleasant Point, aged 11).

RIDDLES. Q.: What has a face but never smiles? A.: A clock. Q.: What has a head but never thinks? A.: A coin. Q.: V/hat is as high as a steeple, as light as a feather, and yet no man can lift it? A.: A shadow.

A CAUTIONARY TALE—No. I. There was once a girl called Mary, A bad girl, too, was Mary; She never did what her mother said, Unless ’twas necessary. One day her mother told her To go and make her bed, And when Mary wouldn’t go, "I’ve had enough!” she said. "Now come along with me, my child,” Said a stern voice behind her; "Bring her, Jack, to the Black Mariah, And with a rope we’ll bind her I” And now see Mary scream and kick With all her might and main, But though she shrieks and cries and kicks, Jack won’t let her go again! He takes her to the Black Mariah, He shuts the door, he puts her in. He doesn’t care what people say, She’s going to come with him. Away he drives the Black Mariah, Faster, faster, Faster! He never dreams that, at such speed, He’ll meet with some disaster! Away then goes the Black Mariah With Mary in the back; Around a corner, the car falls over! Oh dear! alas! alack! And now, my dears, I hope that you Will learn a lesson from Mary, And never answer your Mother back, Or be lazy or contrary. (3 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to "Little Obelia,” Jean Inglis, Timaru, aged 9). FEBRUARY. February and shorter days Have now put in appearance; Shopkeepers their seasons' goods Array for summer clearance. With January departs the summer —Now golden autumn has arrived; Though there’s little diff’rence in the days yet, Of summer sport we’ll soon be deprived. Upon the hills a sprinkle of snow Has covered some high ranges, But still, along the level plains, Dry land large fires endangers. Out on the plains and further south The harvesters are busy; Some oat and wheat stacks are so large, Looking down makes one dizzy! With autumn comes preparing time When all get ready for winter. From plantations logs are cut And left there ready to splinter. In the second month of ev’ry year The lambs are weened and sold, And this month, too some sheep are dpiped ’Ere the days become too cold. (3 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to “Anderson’s Joe,” Betty Hammond, Four Peaks, aged 14). A GROWN-UP REMEMBERS When I was young and foolish I remember well The funny things we used to do, But I dare not tell, In case some other children, Should try our capers, too, And then if they were scolded, Whatever should I do! But still I think that I will give An account of some, And when you are reading them You might find some fun. Underneath a leaning shed On a horse’s back we’d ride, Catch our hands the top, And swing up on the side. Get a boy to climb a tree, Right up to the top, Take the axe and fall it, And he’d come down “plop!” Now I think I’ll end my tale And get away to bed, Leaving you to wonder if We were right in the head! (3 Marks and a Merit Card awarded to "Queen of Sport,” Winnie Jarman, Tasmania, aged 15).

PETER THE GUINEA PIG Something had gone wrong with the kitchen sink, and workmen were called in to set it to rights. Soon after their arrival in the back yard we saw them, crouching down on their haunches, gazing intently into the shadow beneath the palms. "What is it?” we overheard one ask. "It’s a Pomeranian pup.” His mate replied: "No it ain’t a pup,” said number one. They continued to gaze silently for a further space, then: "I know what it is,” said number one jubilantly. "It’s two pups!” This was too much for us, and we called forth the object of their interest—Peter, our tame guinea pig. There was some justification for the last solution, for Peter really looked like two creatures. His snout was covered with short white hair, his ears were black, a black band continuing round his chin like a necktie. His shoulders were again white; all this of short glossy hair like a fox terrier’s, only softer. Then Peter seemed to change his mind, and sprang forth into long lustreless brown fur, quite five inches long, which covered the rest of his body. The tip of his little quivery nose was pink, his oval eyes were like I two black sloes with a purple bloom on them.

Peter was the gift of a small pupil to his behoved teacher. She gladly