PEN-FRIENDS.

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVII, Issue 19512, 10 June 1933, Page 13

PEN-FRIENDS.

“Dimple Dot”—Mary Ryan, (aged 12), Totara Valley, Pleasant Point, would like some Circlians to write to her. “Dusky Maid,” Airini Shewan (aged 11), Timaru Rd„ Waimate, would like a pen-friend about her own age. -x <• * <■ *:**:• ■:*

In mud-at the water’s edge, And there amid the sedge And slime they gobble and peer, Saying ‘‘Quack! quack!” When God had finished the stars and whirl of coloured suns, He turned his mind from big things to fashion little ones; Beautiful tiny things (like daisies) He made, then He made the comical ones in case the minds of men Should stiffen and become Dull, humourless and glum, And so, forgetful of their Maker be As to take even themselves—quite seriously. Caterpillars and cats are lively and excellent puns: All God’s jokes are good—even the practical ones! And as for the duck, I think God must have smiled a bit Seeing those bright eyes blink on the day He fashioned it. And He's probably laughing still at the sound that came out of its bill! —F. W. Harvey. (Sent by “Peter,” Timaru.) STORM IS OUT Storm is out with his bauung hosts, Lashing and slashing old Britain's coasts. Little boats stagger and reel about; Ah! Storm and his men, the Winds, are out. Our curtains are drawn. Come close to the fire. Out in the night Storm is leaping higher. Here's a thought for the men in that wide, dark place Where the wind is ice and the wild seas race, Where they toil for us while we rest at ease: God steer little boats on all troubled seas. HUNDREDS AND THOUSANDS. Witch Widdle-Waddle was the dear old lady who kept the toffee stall outside Fairyland Dell. Prom the window peeped fat bulgy bottles filled with peppermint sweets and curly. sticks of golden barley sugar; whilst inside, standing on the whitest of white counters, stood a pair of shiny gold scales. Fairies, Pixies, Elves, and Gnomes visited the old lady's shop each day, for they love “goodies" just as much as ordinary boys and girls. But one sunny afternoon when a group of little Red Elves came to buy a pound of hundreds and thousands they could not make Witch WiddleWaddle hear. It was very tiresome, as they had hoped to have a picnic tea in the woods. “What shall we do?” said one tiny fellow to the other. But before they could find an answer someone called I softly to them from the next room. •'lt must be Witch Widdle-Waddle calling. Perhaps she's ill!” exclaimed

the eldest of the Red Elves. In a moment they opened her door and hurried in to see what was the matter. And, sure enough, there lay the dear old lady in bed with her pretty patchwork bed-cover all around her. The wee folk soon made their friend a nice cup of tea and a golden brown slice of toast, telling her they would stay and take care of the shop until she was able to get up. “How very kind you are,” smiled the old lady, who was already feeling better. "It was just lovely of you to give up your picnic for me. and now. if you will go and get the bottle with the hundreds and thousands in. you shall all have as many a - you can ; she said.