For the CHILDREN

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17755, 27 January 1926, Page 12

For the CHILDREN

A WET DAY IN CAMP. The rain had damped the ardour of the inmates of the summer camp, and •when evening came on, and still the steamy fog lay over the land, and the drip, drip from the rain continued, there was a sort of melancholy gloom creeping over the spirits of the campers, too. Whistling Wilfred, the comedian of the party, had gone to the nearest town on a foraging expedition, and something had evidently happened to him, for here was supper-time, and no grub save potatoes! 44 Surely,” cried Curly-the- Cook, “something must have happened to Wilfred! I vote we lace up the tent and go off to look for him.” “Yes, let’s!” echoed one and all, eager to do something a little more exciting than waiting. Just at that crucial moment a gay “ Coo-ee-ee! ” resounded through the woods; and Wilfred and hit helpers and a whole cartload of good cheer were soon at the camp. In a very short time the appetising smell of sizzling sausages and 9Qffee filled the air. The rain dripped,, but the clatter of tongues and dishes outdid the rain, and after suppefc all the boys felt quite happy again. ...... So they raised the tent curtains, and Wilfred proposed a sing-song and a competition. “ What we ; want,” said he. “is a good catchy chorus. Something we can all join in. Let’s offer a prize for a 4 catch-on ’-chorus! ” Then the fun began. Every single camper had to contribute, and Curly-the-Cook, who was no musician, racked his brains in desperation. Just as it came to his turn he had a sudden inspiration—ra quaint old rigmarole his mother used to sing to him when he was a small boy. It was a quaint, dirge-like air, with a refrain, and it “ caught on ” at once. I only wish I could give you the tune, but if you know what a Gregorian is you may be able to improvise for yourselves, and perhaps, like Curly, win the prize, for he actually did. Now, .thpn, for the words. The refrain after each line—to be sung by all —is only dog-Latiu. So I shall spell it just as it is sounded:—

I had four brothers over the sea—• Perry, merry dictum domine They each sent a present unto me— Quantum quartum perry di sen turn. Perry merry dictum domine. The first sent a chicken without any bones— Perry merry dictum domine. The next sent a cherry without any stones — Quantum quartum perry disen turn. Perry merry dictum domine. The third sent a blanket -without any thread— Perry' merry dictum domine. The fourth sent a book that could not w r bc read—‘Quantum quartum perry di sen turn. Perry merry dictum domine. When the chicken's in the egg it has no bones— Perry merry dictum domine. When the cherry’s in the blossom it has no stones — Quantum quartum perry disen turn. Perry merry dictum domine. When the wool is in the fleece it has no thread— Perry merry dictum domine. When the book is in the press it cannot be read— Quantum quartum perry disentum. Perry merry dictum domine. •* DOUBLE DUTCH ’* It was so hot in the house that mother said we might stay in the garden and learn our lessons in the shaae of the apple tree. You can’t imagine how lovely it is there unless you have been there yourself. Sylvia has a weeny armchair with a little table to match it, and she is as good as gold when we sit under the apply tree in the evening time, Sylvia is five. Dick was learning his French verbs and Bob Latin roots. Sylvia got quite envious when Dick went jabbering on: “ Que j'eusse eu, que tu eusses eu, qu'il cut ue, que nous eussions cu,” and, with a little sigh, she said: “ I do wish I could speak French. It would be so nice to tell secrets and nobody -to know what you were saying.” 44 Don’t you believe it, Sylvia,” said Dick. “"Nearty everybody knows French nowadays. If you want to tell secret*, tell 'em in double Dutch.” “ Teach me, then,” said Sylvia, ** please.” “ Righto! ” said Dick. “ Half a tick till I’vfe written the 4 plus-parfait * of * hurry,’ ** 4 ‘ I’ll teach you single Dutch while you axe waiting,” said Bob with a wink. 44 Can you? " queried Sylvia. u J© pense que oui,” answered Bob. with another big wink, and he started off with a rush : “Ky man airy, Kil ty cary. Ky man ary Ky mo. , Strimni strenn stram-a-diddle. Lully bolly gig. With 3. rig tom, Bully diggy ky mo! ” 44 You’re only teasing,” said Sylvia, pursing het 6mall mouth. “I know you know.” 44 Yes, he’s only teasing,” said Dick. “ But I’m not, and you’ll be able to learn double Dutch in a jiff. See here. There’s f only one rule. Take off the. first letter from every word and tack it on at the end. You know when you learn your alphabet you are first taught the sounds—B is be, D is de, and so on. Let’s seel We’ll take some easy sentence l —something you can learn to surprise mother. Oh, yes! There you are. 4 Mother, dear, I love you.' Now see; you cut the ‘m ' off ‘mother* and that leaves ‘other.’ Now put ‘m* at the end of 4 other * and that makes it ‘other-m,’ which sounds when spoken like ‘ other-ma.’ So your sentence would be ‘ Other-m ear-d, I ove-1 ou-y,' and would sound like this; ‘Other-ma ear-de, I ou-ye.’ Twiggy vous, Sylvia? ” 44 1 believe I do, Ick-da,” said Sylvia -with a.-twinkle. So we all sat there helping her for ever so long, and when mother called her to go to bed you should.have seen her puzzled look when Sylvia ran.to her so qmdkly, saying: “Other-ma. I an-ca eak-spa rench-fe. Isten-la. Other-ma ear-de, J. ove-la ou-ye 1 ” THE CIRCUS FRIENDS. People in a circus are nearly always jolly to each other, and very often the animals are the same. They have their pals, and they stick to them. Here are Little Uncle, the baby elephant, and Marco, the monkey; they are awfully fond of one another. It happened this waje. Little Uncle

was learning to do circus tricks, and he was not very quick at learning, and he used to get into bothers. One day, he was not listening to what the Master was saying, and he turned round too late; the other little elephants had turned, and one of them knocked him very hard on the trunk. Now the trunk of a baby elephant is very tender, and poor Little Uncle cried bitterly. The other little elephants were not very kind about it, because when he was stupid they had to stay longer in the circus school. But Marco, the monkey, was sorry for Little Uncle, and he ran off to his Master’s tent, and found some lovely cold cream. And he put lots on the poor sore trunk, and it felt better at once and soon was all right. And from that time, he and Littk* Uncle were chums. Little Uncle used to let Marco climb up and sit on his trunk. And when the Master saw that one day he was so pleased that he said it would make a jolly trick. So Little Uncle had the honour of having invented a new trick all by himself, and no one ever laughed again at him for a dunce, and he got extra tit-bits for his new trick and he always shared them with Marco. And somehow he got less stupid, too: he learned more quickly. Marco used to be sad if he got into trouble, so he took pains and did his lessons properly. And that’s how Little Uncle turned over a new leaf. AT THE SEASIDE. There’s nothing jollier than to be at the seaside, especially if it is the sort of place where you can do what you like, and wear all the comfy old clothes that don’t matter if they get wet or torn. But even at the seaside there are a few things it is wise to remember. Some things the grown-ups will remember for you, but there are some you must think of for yourself. The first one is to do just as the grown-ups tell ,you about bathing or paddling. What looks so safe is not always safe. So do remember this. And the next thing is to be careful about sand. It is such slippery stuff, and poor kiddies have been buried really by it, when they were only pretending to be buried. It really isn’t very jolly to be buried in sand; it gets all down your neck and is scratchy and horrid. And'when , you remember that it is dangerous as ■well, there’s no sense in burying anyone, is there It's not like hay that you cap throw off in a minute. So have a good time at the seaside and enjoy yourselves, but don’t do the silly things some kiddies do, or you will be awfully sorry afterwards. JACK OR JILL? When eve’er I lie awake at night I keep my eyes shut very tight And hide my head beneath th 6 clothes. Because, as everybody knows. The world is standing on its heed. And I might tumble out of bed When up that way it’s spinning. The moon and stars up in the sky Are spinning, too—away up high! Round and round and round they go. Not sometimes fast and sometimes slow. But, summer, autumn, winter, spring, They whizz and whizz like anything, And never knock together. What puzzles me the most of all Is. why the people do not fall When, in Australia down below. Their heads are hanging down, you know. But mother says when it is night That we are in the self-same plight, It’s very puzzling—very! But what is most perplexing quite Is why, when we go down at night. We shouldn’t see their stars. They never see the Plough or Mkrs. They’ve got the Southern Cross down there. I’d rather have the Plough, the Bear. Our stars are much the nicer.

And I’ll tell you a secret now: Stars do get giddy. Anyhow, When it was very late one night, I woke, and, thinking perhaps I might See some of those Australian stars. When peeping through the window-bars I saw a big star tumbling! I wonder where that giddy star Went falling, falling fast and far. It did not touch the earth, I know. I watched. I think that it did go Down to New Zealand. There they will Call that new star, perhaps, Jack or Jill. Because it had a tumble. Now I am sure you know more about the way the world turns than the little girl in that rhyme above; but I hope vou as not like little Jackie, who explained to his sister that he knew why we never see the Southern Cross here in England. Said he: “You see, when it is daytime here it is night in Australia, and when it is night there it is daytime in Australia.” “That doesn't explain,” lisped wee Betty. “Yes, it does. Oh. but girls never understand geography,” said little Jackie. “Don't you see—if we could blow out the light of the sun here in the daytime we should see the Southern Cross.” HIPS AND HOPS. Hippity, hippity, hip! Pepita is learning to skip! She skips and she hops, So seldom she stops; Her cheeks and her lips Are as red as the hips On the bough where the rose In the summer-time blows. Hippity, hippity, hip! Pepita is learning to skip. Hoppitv, hoppitv, hop! Alexander is spinning his top! But he whips and he flips, And it flops and it slips, It hangs in the twine Like the hop from the bine, And long ere it spins He. has barked both his shins. Hoppity, hoppity, hop! Alexander is spinning his top!