For the CHILDREN

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17831, 27 April 1926, Page 4

For the CHILDREN

PAUL BRER. Paul Brer Rabbitt was an objectionable person. In fact, as he grew older not a soul would go near him, he had such a bad temper; so he lived alone in Potting Hutch, and as the days passed his loneliness made more and more hateful until he didn't know what to do. Once he had been a gay young rabbit. He had been engaged to the beautiful Miss Dulcie Rabbit. Her mother and father kept the general shop at the junction of Mile-end Common and Lovers’ Lane. Young Paul had met her in the shop one day as he was toiling home from a party, lie fell so madly in love that he asked her to marry him five minutes after he had first set eyes on her. And she immediately said “ Yes.” But hundreds of bunnies looked into that little general shop daily as it was on the main road home. Miss Dulcie was so kind-hearted that she found it impossible not to say something nice to everybody, and two days before the wedding, which was to have been a splendid affair in Gorsy Hollow by the Pond, Paul Brer Rabbit came in unexpectedly and found her saying something extra specially nice to young Reggy Rabbit. The engagement was immediately broken and Patil set off and bought Potting Hutch up on the hills, where he ate the tougest stalks in his untidygarden, and poor Miss Dulcie left the little shop for Beechside Hutch on the opposite side of the town. This sad state of affairs went on for years, then one winter’s night there was a heavy knock on the door of Paul Brer Rabbit’s little huch. “ I’m not at home,” he yelled. “ Open the door,” a voice begged. “ I tell you I am out, whoever you are. Now go away.” But the intruder boldly” lifted the latch and walked in. It was Reggv Rabbit, who, since the engagement broken, had travelled on foreign commons. “ What’s happened to Dulcie, isn’t she in?” Reggy” inquired. “In? She lives on the other side of the village.” “What! didn’t you ever marry?” Reggy Rabbit gasped with amazement. “Weren’t you in love with her?” Paul asked threateningly”. “ That day you stalked in so furiously* I wasn’t able to explain that she was only* straightening my pink silk spotted cravat, as I was on my* way to a party.” “ She never explained that to me,” Paul said sadly*. “ I’ll marry her tomorrow if she’ll have me.” They went together to Beechside Hutch, where they* found Miss Dulcie giving advice to two very” young rabbits. The look on Paul’s face told her that at last all was well, so she dismissed her pupils and fell into his arms. They were married next day*. BEHEAD ME ! I am to hold in readiness: Behead me—and I become one of a band of singers: Again—and I am a little island planted with osiers; Again—and I am neither masculine nor feminine; Again—and I am a beverage.

THE STORY OF PRIMULA. Primula was her real name, but she was so very* stuck-up that all the other animals called her Proud Primula. And her mistress called her just Prim. Primula did not like either of her names, she wanted to be called Princess, because her mother had been called Princess Petita. “But she was a prize cat,” said the Parrot. “You’ll never be that.” “Why* not?” asked Primula, crossly: she did not like the Parrot, because he told her she was silly* and vain. And because people made a fuss of him. “Well, prize cats have to be nice-look-ing, and y*ou‘re always frowning and sulky,” said the Parrot. “Why don’t you look jolly* and pretty* like Nippy?” “Nippy, indeed!” said Primula; “why she’s a common cat! ” “So are you, when you talk like that,’* said the Parrot, and went to sleep. So Primula went away* and sulked all the rest of the morning. In the afternoon the cook came, and picked her up. Primula was cross and scratched hard, but Cook held her hr“l’m glad you’re going away”, said Cook: “you are a cross little thing and no one will miss y*ou.” The tied Primula .in a little rush basket, so that she could not scratch, and put a label on it, with some writing to show where she was to go. And then a boy came and put her on the basket of his bicycle, and rode away with her to a new home. And she hated going away. But, after all, it was not so bad. She had a kind home, and she grew wiser, and tried to be nice. And she grew quite lovely, for she took exercise running after mice instead of sulking indoors all day. And, do you know, in the end, her mistress had her back again and took her to a show. And she won three prizes, and her name was called after her pretty mother’s, only she was Princess Petita the Second! It was lucky she grew wise, wasn’t it? And when she came back she liked to be called Prim, and no one ever remembered that she was once called “the Proud.” THE STEAM FAIRIES. What is it makes the train to go? Why, those mad little merry Aquoos* Queer little Aqua-um sprites (Fero) With pear-colour hats and shoes. They race and scamper, push and play, They whizz those wheels around, And I think the track by the boiler* way Is the Aquoos’ football ground. When tired of their hustling, bustling ways, If you would stop their din. On bubbling, mad, hot-water Fay*s, Just let the cold air in! You’ll hear them scream and stamp and shout: “ You have spoiled all our fun!’* And out of the throttle and boiler-spout You will hear those rascals run. —E.E.W