THE

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 114, 16 May 1931, Page 4 (Supplement)

THE

My dear Children, — Hurrah! Harrah! Hurrah! Holidays are here again, and what a jolly number of days they will be, 100. Everyone has placed aside bool,' and pen, and with one accord made for the great outdoors, there to sport and frolic as becomes we mortals during King Winter’s reign. Though it be cold and cheerless that will not matter one jot, for games there arc to l(eep one warm, and even if friend Weather Clerk does want to be ungracious, Well then We have, our story books, and big log fires to roast ourselves by, the white we follow our hero and heroine through the pages of their adventures in lands bristling with /(nights, and maybe a flame-snorting dragon or two, which according to most tales al waps carry off the heroine, and give our hero much trouble to rescue. / well remember a story 1 once read in which the hero, upon being appraised of the heroine's abduction by an enormous and doubly fierce-loobing dragon, murmured, "Poor dragon. But then I think the author of this story had in mind the resourcefulness of the modern girt when he formulated his plot. However, lam sure We all prefer the old stories, because after all there is some excitement in them, isn I there? Then, as we begin to nod, mother says, "Time for bed, dears, and off me troop to the Land of Slumber, where the good fairies give us dream gifts, but which, no matter how tightly we clasp them, are always gone in the mornings. How lovely it would be if We could keep them, and dream them over again. Still, there is always to-morrow night, when, perhaps, the fairies will come again, and who knows or can tell, but our gifts will be more precious than before. The Land of Nod is a happy one for the thoughtful and kindly but beware, children, of the huge monster that lies in wait for those who, by their daytime actions, cause mother and daddy to wear a frown. Theirs not a happy visit to Dreamland, for the fairies will not play with them, nor will they give them dream gifts of joy. Only good children are so richly rewarded! Let me see now. Oh yes! With the advent of holidays, one’s thoughts are of pleasurable times, and playtime hours, but a little uninvited thought perhaps will creep in and demand attention. No matter how We might try tc place it aside unheeded, it will still cry out to us, "Here I am, I will not go away until you listen to me,” and dears, the wise will give heed to the insistent small voice, for it says, “Are you satisfied that you tried your hardest last time. Did you do all you could, or could you have done better?” Yes, it causes one to pause, does it not, and what shall ivc answer? Why, gears, in our hearts there is born a resolution of determination, that come what may, only the best will be given of ourselves. Our every effort will be diccted towards the goal of high scholastic attainment, such as is reflected to the very great credit of our Hut, in our pages this Lettenand Day, by the number of successes recorded by Iles in all parts, where our merry companionship of children is known. To those who have zealously guarded our prestige, 1 am truly grateful, and rest secure in the knowledge that the future will hold as bright a vision, as has been my privilege to behold, during the past years, since when I became so happy a person as IVendy of Lelterland Land. Now. cherubs, I have a splendid surprise for you all. Il is one which "Madame X," in the goodness of her heart, has sprung upon us. She has provided a competition for you to help pass away pour holiday hours, and to which I have given the title of "MADAME X's" HOLIDAY COMPETITION, just read her letter dears. This is what a thoughtful Grown-up says: Ohingajti. My dear Wendy,—While I was thinking this morning of the children's holidays it entered my mind they might enjoy a competition now, and they would have time for it before school again commenced. If you agree, my idea is for them to write an esiay on "What I would like to be when I grow up.” Age limit 16 years. But to give the Juniors a belter chance, this is my proposal: I will give a prize for the best essay up to twelve (12) years, and a separate prize for the best essay of those over twelve and not over sixteen ( 16) pears. I will make the closing dale for the competition the 27th insl. The entries can be forwarded to me c/o pour “Chronicle” address, and I will judge them and endeavour to get the results sent to the Pages at the earliest possible date. Then if you are agreeable, Wendy, the two winning entries map be published. Hoping this will be all “in order,” and hoping I have made details clear. Your loving lie, "MADAME X.” There, now to work, and please remember the competition close definitely on the 27th of this month of May. I wonder who among our merry band will carry off the prizes provided so generously by our jolly “Madame X”? While We are all so happy and care-free, dears, there are three among our number whose hearts are bowed down by grief, and the loss of one most dearly loved. I refer to the passing over the Great Divide of "English Rose’s” “Bonnie Mary’s” and "Scotch Lass’' mother, and I asl( them to accept our deepest sympathy in their sorrow. Io our U.S.C. valuable additions have been made by Master Malcolm Hall, of Paperangi, and Master F. G. Edgecombe, Omata R.D., Waverley, and 1 thank our two friends for their interest and help in one of our Hut’s causes. Thank Jtou, Hears. Bang! Bang! Bang! Crash! Crash. Oh, gracious, whatever can be the cause of such a commotion ? Please, Sir Richard, will you kindly see? "It s a parcel, Wendy, but where could it have come from?” Listen, Sir Richard! Can you hear the drone of an engine? "Bless my soul, yes, Wendy. Lool(! There it goes. See here through this window.” T hen perhaps the airman has dropped this parcel overboard by mistake, Sir Richard? "No. Wendy! See, your name is inscribed upon it.” Oh. let's hurry and open it. 1 feel ever so curious. Such excitement, too. Please undo it for me. "To Wendy from 'The Wheat Princess,' to make hot lemon drinks with to keep the ’flu away.” “'That is a splendid gift, Wendy, and so thoughtful, 100. Who did you sap it mas from?” “The Wheal Princess,' Sir Richard. "Then 1 must tell the Gnome of Gratitude about this ” Better still. Sir Richard, bring him with you, and I'll mal(e hot lemon drinks, just as our thoughtful lie has suggested. “Very good, 1 will ” Oh, cherubs, it Was so thoughtless of me, but I forgot all about poor Mr Printerman, and he did look so suspiciously al our somewhat wry faces when he came for mp letter. Never mind, he did have some of "Madcap’s” grapes though, didn't he? Well, dears, I must, unlike Tennyson’s brook, come to an end, or 1 will be using up all our space, so I will as usual send you all my love and kisses from your even affectionate

•OUR CHILDREN’S CORNER