Peter Pan's Corner

Timaru Herald, Volume CLVI, Issue 23013, 3 October 1944, Page 6

Peter Pan's Corner

DEAREST LITTLE PEOPLE, As the S.P.C.A. story is taking most of cur space, your letters, etc., will be answered next week. The mystery Garden Competition which was omitted last time will be printed then, too. Lots of love to everyone, From your own, PETER PAN.

BIRTHDAY GREETINGS September 27: Graeme Woolford. September 28: Diana Richards, Kevin O’Donoghue, Mervyn Hall. September 29: Howard Austin, Dawn Lavers, Marjorie Simmers. September 30: Brian Kennedy, Joyce Andrews, Valma Craig. October 1: David Oldham, Una Green, John McKenzie, Moira Ewing, Neill Dwyer, Moira Morris, Margaret Patrick, Noeline Fraser. October 2: Penelope Robinson, Douglas Webb, Eileen Stringer. October 3: Heather Howes, Betty Gale, Peter« MacDonald. October 4: Kathleen Narbey. WELCOME TO Alex Painter, Milford. Pamela Paterson, 204 Wai-iti Road, Timaru. Bruce Wallace, 1 Hart St., Timaru. NOTICE BOARD Winner of Painting Competition Madeleine O’Brien, St. Andrews This Week's Competition:—“Word Building.” How many words can you make from “Golden Daffodils.” Entries must be in by October 10. KINDNESS TO ANIMALS (First Prize, Secondary Junior) Pets! How many little creatures are recognised by that name I wonder? It makes me think of a jumble of animals; dogs, ponies, cats, nirds, rabbits, lambs, along with others all being various shapes and sizes. Most people posess at least one pet. If they do not, it is a fascinating and valuable experience lost. Having a pet should help one cultivate an understanding and love of animals. We should remember not to take an unfair advantage of the creatures which. are entirely under our mercy and consideration. To disregard the feelings of poor creatures which are unable to speak for themselves and to treat them unkindly, whether they be wild or tame is one of the most selfish and unjust cruelties that can possibly exist. There are many ways in which animals could be treated better than they are. For instance it is a familiar sight after any stock sale to see horses, cows, sheep or pigs enclosed in a small suffocating pen without food or even water for several hours after the conclusion of the sale. This is just dire neglect and could easily be avoided. Many are the stray cats and dogs which wander neglected and miserable o’er the countryside fending for themselves, unwanted and helpless. Why must such things be? Animal is man’s closest friend on this earth—yet it is commonly treated with appauling cruelty and lack of thought. It is the duty of each one of us to do all in our power to prevent cruelty to our fellow creatures, remembering. always to make sure that the animals under our own care are properly fed, housed or sheltered and treated kindly and then to try our best to see that other people do the same. “Do unto others, as your would have them do unto you.” Happy Memories I have had many pets but my favourite one was a little fox-terrier who I had for only two years, but whom I adored. My father bought her for me at a Pleasant Point sale when she was still very, very tiny, so tiny that she could easily be compared with a young kitten in size. That evening, she was given plenty of milk, allowed to run around the kitchen, bite shoes laces (for' even tiny puppies must do some mischief!) and thoroughly gained the affection of everybody. She was my puppy and I made sure that she received every luxury that a little dog could possibly expect. Then of course the problem arose as to what the newcomer’s name should be. After many suggestions and discussions we called her “Rags.” During her puppyhood she got up to the most wicked pranks, was full of mischief and was altogether the most usual thing for a puppy to be—a larrikin. At an early age, Rags was prophosied a very intelligent dog by all the family. She grew into a lovely little dog and of course I thought my dog the loveliest one in the world. Rags understood simple commands beautifully. If she was inside and someone said, “Go outside Rags!” she would stretch herself, look around and then slowly, very slowly, walk out, glancing back in the hope of a word calling her back in again. And if someone said in an ordinary voice as though speaking to anybody, “Come and get a bone Rags,” she would trot up to the speaker with much enthusiam and receive it with many thanks shown by a hearty wag of the tail. But even if she was not at all hungry she would accept the offering and once she thought that she was hidden from your sight would bury it. It was just mere courtesy, not fear of being scolded. Her first attempts at burying things were very comical. One end of the bone would be sitting on top of the ground, the other meagrely covered with soil. To have a game with me, was one of her chief delights. I would throw an old rubber ball into a clump of bushes or in the long grass and tell her to go and fetch it. Off she would bound in pursuit of the hidden ball, find it, and trot back, triumphantly carrying it in her jaws. When we were up the paddock, the lunch bag was her favourite “sit-be-side” and on Dad or I picking up the bag at afternoon tea time a great fuss was made. Having made her great joy evident by jumping up and down and running round and round, she would sit near us with an expectant air, ears back, eyes alert, waiting for crumbs to be thrown, and when they were, caught them expertly in her mouth.

Sometimes, Mother would place an extra piece of bread in the lunch bag specially for Rags, but this failed to satisfy her and she would not eat it even if it was spread with butter! She knew it wasn’t what we were eating ! Now and again, when up the paddock a special favour of a drink of tea poured into a piece of paper shaped “cup-like” and placed in a hole in the ground was bestowed upon her and received with great delight. Rags ate anything from pea-nuts to chocolate, the only thing which she ever refused being a banana.

When a small puppy she became most annoyed when the cat commenced to lap her milk. She would indignantly pick up the tin, walk perkily away spilling most of it as she went and place the rescued article at a safe distance, then look triumphantly at the guilty cat and commence to empty the tin herself.

This little dog was not a keen “cat chaser” by herself because she received no encouragement to be one, but scoldings when she appeared to be turning a little “cat chasified.” Though, when our other dogs went a-cat-hunting, she too. joined in the fun. The cat’s favourite safety resort was the macrocapa hedge. But Rags was not to be daunted by the cat sitting on top of the hedge. She climbed up, also, and when she had reached the top and was within a few yards of the poor cat, she sat down too and looked very pleased with herself! This happened many times but nearly always Rags found it a much harder task climbing down than it was climbing up and had to be lifted down! The event of puppies caused great excitement for me, but of course we could not keep them all. Every morning my sister and I walked a mile to catch the schoolbus, taking with us a pony for pack-horse and Rags. Rags and pony would go home together, Rags rabbiting on the way. Nearly every morning she carried home a portion of rabbit for her puppy, having eaten her share before taking it home, making a lighter load for her to carry.

Rags as I have said before, carried on the tradition of her kind and was a keen and good rabbiter. Sometimes she used to go away on rabbiting expeditions, taking Don, one of our sheepdogs, with her for company. This worried us much, but nothing could stop this performance. It was from one of those expeditions that she never returned— She was found lying with a piece of poisoned rabbit beside her. It was on a neighbouring farm. Anyone who has never possessed a dog could not possibly imagine how fond one can grow of such a good companion. I learned to love my little dog as I had never loved any animal before. She died on 26th July, 1943 (By Beatrice Marshall, Pleasant Point D.H.S., 14 years nine months). GROWING OLD Grow lovely growing old, So many fine things do Ivory, laces, gold And silks need not be new For there is healing in old trees, Old streets a romance hold So why not I, as well as these Grow lovely, growing old. (Sent by Valerie Allport, Timaru age 8) STARS The stars come out on a summer’s night And fill the skies with a silver light. About the golden moon they dance Until they see the sun’s first glance When out of the sea he starts to peep They stop their play and away they creep. But tho’ they are sad as they go away They know they’ll be back at the end of the day, (3 marks to Esmae Henry, age 10) Winchester. SPRING Spring is here we all can see The bulbs are flowering just for me And violets purple and white Make a show in colours bright. The little lambs that run about Chase each other in and out And the sun so bright and high Shines at us from a blue sky. (3 marks to Betty Robinson, Geraldine, age 8) CLAREMONT Claremont is the place to live, When summer’s coming soon Claremont’s spring and sunshine When flowers brightly bloom'. Claremont is the place to see, It’s not a bit like town In springtime all the hills are green In summer they are brown. In spring the lambkins play about As happy as can be, In autumn ajl the fields are gold And filled with melody. All the folk are merry there And birds sing' in the trees The flowers nod their heads and sway In the summer breeze. Claremont where the flowers bloom Colours of every hue Oh Claremont is the place for me And the place for you. (3 marks to Valmai Cross, age 13) Timaru. SUMMER SWEETNESS She gathered fallen rose-petals Curled and faintly sweet. And dropped them warm and glowing In a basket at her feet. She cut some fragrant lavender, Then, bending very low, Spread it in the cooling shade To dream of long ago. She pulled verbena from a tree Growing by. the door Then scattered leaves and flowers to dry On a shaded sun-porch door. And finally she mixed and stored Perfumed spice and flowers To bring back dreams of summer sweet During winter hours. written by DOROTHY DONALDSON, (New Zealand’s blind and deaf poetess) (Sent by Anna Belter, Timaru, age 14) LET’S LAUGH Teacher: What is the last word in aeroplanes. Billy: Jump. John: You have a nice collection of books, but you should have more shelves! Tom: I know, but no one seems to lend me shelves. (Sent by Maureen Ryder, aged 10) FAIRIES There are fairies at the bottom of our garden It’s not so very, very far away; You pass the gardener’s shed, and you keep just straight ahead I do so hope they’ve really come to stay. There’s a little wood with moss in it and beetles And a little stream that quietly runs though, You wouldn’t think they’d dare to come merry-making there— Well, they do. There are fairies at the bottom of our garden, They often have a dance on summer night; The butterflies and bees make a lovely little breeze And the rabbits stand about and hold the lights. Did you know that they can sit upon the moonbeams And pick a little star to make a fan, And dance away' up there, in the middle of the air? Well, they can! There are fairies at the bottom of our garden You cannot think how beautiful they are They all stand up and sing, when the fairy Queen and King Come gently floating down upon their car. The King is very proud and very handsome; The Queen —now can you guess who that would be? (She’s a little girl all day, but at night she steals away) Well—it’s ME. THE BAD DEBTOR Said Jack to Jim, “Lend me 5/- or what is better Please make it ten and I will be eternally your debtor.” “I know you would,” said Jim, “and isn’t it funny Just for that reason I can’t lend the money.” SONG OF THE COUNTRY SIDE To be back again in the country-side, To rest on a fallen tree; To hear the munch of the cows near by And see the lambs on the lea To watch the waves of the meadow grass Or the flight of a lark on high, See the changing hues of the distant hills As the clouds skim over the sky. To hear once again the old horses’ li oofs On the clods of the new-ploughed earth. And the call of the seagulls hovering near And the flutter of wings as they beat tflie air. And In spite of the war-rack everywhere New faith, new hope have birth. (Sent Owen Fulton, age 13) Dunedin. Suet for Nothing Aberdeen butcher, <to lady who has just bought 1 pound of mince): “There's a bit suet to ye for nothing, madam ” Aberdeen lady: “That rale kind o' ye. I'll no bother w'e the mince noo.” IKeM. bv Maureen Nolan)