For the Children

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16819, 23 August 1922, Page 11

For the Children

AN ISLAND THAT CAME ALIVE. The alligator likes the warmth. Ft likes water, too. So, as the dry season and the cool season come on together in Florida, the Florida alligator usually goes into winter quarters. It buries itself in the mud. after the manner of its kind, and settles itself down for a long nap Now it sometimes happens that gras< and quick-growing shrubs spring up and begin growing on the hack of this sleeping animal. Ot course, these are usu ally shaken off or washed off w hen, with the first warm rains, the alligator rouses itself and makes for the water. Sometimes, however, the mud sticks fast, and with it the plant growth, so that, when the alligator slides lazily into the water and floats off. it looks for all the world like a floating island, A plover was once so deceived by the natural appearance of one of these “islands” that it built its nest in the plant-growth on its flat surface. The alligator, with its load of mud. ferii6 and plants, and bird's nest, floated slowly down stream. But before th nest was quite completed, and. while the plover was looking about for material with which to finish it, and wondering why this island got further and further down stream, the alligator suddenly decided to dive to the bottom. and awav went the upper portion of the “island.” nest and all. ic caught on some roots, near the bank, and this time it stayed permanently! But you may imagine the surprise of "Mr Plover at finding hi' home moving about so unceremoniously. TH K SK IPPINC R OPE. Susie’s rope is new and strong. On each handle are three bells That jingle when, she skips along. That is how her mother tells Where her little girl may lx? When Susie skips, the sweet bells ring In the garden, merrily, With a pretty jing-a-iing. THE BLACKSMITH. The smithy door is open wide, From early, morn till eventide; We children'stand around to see The red sparks dancing merrily. Sometimes the blacksmith lets us go Right to the forge, and help to blow The big brown bellows that will make The sleeping ember coals awake. With Steady arm, tbs blacksmith swings Hi? hammer. How the anvil rings When the strong bar, to white boat brought, Into another shape is wrought! The blacksmith shoes my father’s mares, And the farm implement repairs; Though such a busy man is lie. New hoops he made for Ted and me.

A MINIATURE OAK TREE. If you wish to have a tiny, perfect oak tree, like the miniature trees in Japanese gardens, take an acorn and tie a string around it so that the blunt end, where the cup was, is upward. Suspend it in a bottle containing a. small quantity of water, but be careful that the acorn does not reach within an inch of the water. Wrap the bottle in flannel and leave it undisturbed in a warm, dark place. In a month or less the acorn will swell, burst its coat, and throw out a tiny white point. This i.s the root. When the root is half an inch long, the water may be allowed to rise higher, but it must not touen it until the neck of the root begins to ]>oint upward. As soon as this stem begins to shoot, the baby oak will need a small quantity of light every day. The root may now extend into the water. In a week or so itswill he ready to be removed to a window, and there you may watch it grow from day to day. At first you will gee a whitish thread covered with small green scales. This is the trunk of the tree. Soon the scales will begin to expand and the end will become green. Then little leaves will appear, veins will branch and old leaves fall off. until you have \ perfect miniature of the mighty oak trees in the forest. POST CARDS. And on the bureau, over there. Are postal cards from everywhere. Views of lands across the seas. Of pyramids and lemon trees. A jungle beast from far Siam Is sticky still with stolen jam; The sphinx of Egypt, too, I think. Met misfortune with the inkA steamer’s lamps are red and white. As she sails beneath the night Cards from East and cards from West. Of all my toys I like them best. THE WINDMILL. I wish I were a. miller. With a hat as white as snow', And a lovely smell af flour Thrown about me aai I go. And a. round, exciting store house, With a ladder in the wall, j And crap-doors in the floors. Ajad oh ? Perhaps the best of all, A little wooden platform place, High up, above the ground. Where I could stand on windy days And watch the sails go round. Just think how really lovely It would he to lie in bed, And hear those great, big flapping sails Go creaking overhead. II I could be a miller-man, Flow jolly 1 would be! "I’d ask a lit-tlo miller-boy To come and live with me.