For the Children

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16736, 18 May 1922, Page 3

For the Children

THREE NAUGHTY ELVES. The three elves who lived in Marjorie's pardon were really very naughty. They were always in some sort of mischief. One day in the autumn, when the apples were getting ripe, they saw Marjorie come to the garden and begin to sweep up the leaves from the path. “ See what’s she’s doing !” said Pickle. Let’s get into the apple tree and throw the leaves down as fast as she sweeps them up !” ,e Oh. yes, that will be a joke !” cried Pippin, and he and Pixy and Pickle all flew up into the apple tree and began gathering handsful of leaves and throwing them down on the pathway. “ Oil, dear !” cried Marjorie, after she had been sweeping for a little while. “ I don't seem to be making the path any tidier. As fast as I dear up one lot of leaves another lot comes tumbling down. I can’t think why, for there’s hardly any wind at all to-day.” Up in the tree the three elves chuckled with delight. ‘"Go on—throw some more down !” whispered Pixy, and Pickle and Pippin went on throwing down leaves as hard as ever they could, while poor Marjorie swept and swept until her arms ached. At last, she threw the broom away with a little cry. “ I can’t go on any longer !” she said, and flinging herself on the ground beneath the apple tree., she burst into tears. The three little elves stopped throwing down leaves and looked at each other. “ I gay, we never meant to make her cry,” said Pippin. 11 Poor little girl 1 we oughtn’t to have teased her so,” said Pixy. “ I know 1” cried Pickle suddenly; ” let’s throw her down an apple ! Here’s a lovely big red one—if she sees that I should think 6he'd be sure to stop crying.” So Pixie and Pippin and Pickle set to work to pick the apple. It was a very big one, and it made all their arms ache before they got it off the stalk. It made their arms ache almost n« much as Marjorie/s had ached. Rut they picked it at last, and then—plop—down fell the apple close by Marjorie’s side. The little girl looked up with a start. Then she gave a shout of pleasure. “ Oh, what a lovelv apple !” she cried. * it She stretched out her hand and lucked it up. and soon she was in unching away contentedly, all her troubles forgotten. “ I’m glad she liked it,” said Pickle; <l but, oh, how my arms do ache !” THE JOURNEY. Puff! gr>ps the engine smoke, Clang ! sounds the hell. Fast a%id faster moves the train. Whither, who can toll ? Milea and miles of silver rails Who could try them nil ? Who could hear to bide at home, Having heard their call ? Swifter than the white clouds, Farther than the tide. On speeds the flying train. Ah! the world is wide!

HIDE AND SEEK

c ‘ Wherever can little Maisie he? said Maisie’s sister ono morning, as she came up to dress her. “'W herever can she be? I can't see her anywrere 1 wonder if the fairies have come in the night and carried her away to fairyland? Maisie ! Maisie ! where arc you? Come and be dressed.” No answer came, and no Maisie cither, and Maisie’s sister hunted everywhere, hut still could not see her. Whatever could have happened? Now, all this time Maisie was hiding —yes, really hiding, and she was quite enjoying herself. You see, she could hear everything that her sister was saying, And wrereshrdlu semfw cinfm saying. And where do you think she was hiding ? Why, behind the big curtain that hung round the head of her bed ! And “ What was that?” said her sister all at once. I’m sure I heard her laugh. Why I do believe the little puss i 6 hiding from me !” She was quite right. It was Maisie she had heard. She was laughing, hidden away behind the curtain, and made just a little noise; but her sister heard it and carried her aw yto be dressed. THE PRINCE AND THE BUTTERCUP. The Frogs whispered it to the Toads, the Toads"told everyone else. iC Tlie Prince is coming this way,’ they said. The Iris felt proud. “He will look at me,” she said: “he will look at nothing else.” She thought 6he was more beautiful than any other thing. The poor little Buttercup that grew on the banks of the stream said nothing. “ I am too small and common. The Prince will not see me,” she thought. The Iris made herself look as nice as she could. The Lizards, Newts, and even the Frogs and Toads put on their best clothes. But the little Buttercup that grew on the hanks of the stream j did nothing of the kind. She thought j she was too little for the Prince to see , !her. So why should she care? A long line of horses was seen ad- I vancing. As they drew near, it- was easy to , •see that the Prince was in front. Two : pages did what he asked, and ho was , dressed better than anyone else. The Prince turned his head and look- j od at something across the stream. The j Iris felt proud, for eh© thought he was looking at her. 11 Bring me that flower,” he ordered, j A page at once went and picked the Iris. ” No, not that one.” said the Prince. “ Bring me that dear little yellow flower.” He had caught sight of it) shining in the grass. The Buttercup was brought to him and he put it in his coat. The Iris was left, to die on the bank of the stream, i Pride will have its fall. TO A LITTLE GIRL. I like to stand and watch The sun a-going down. And count the lights a-shining out. On all the streets in town ; T like to stand and see The evening shadows fall Around our pakr and on our street And countryside and all. I like to play that these (.’rev evening shadows are A broad and gentle roadway For the gentle evening star.