IS IT WORTH WHILE?

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 192, 15 August 1931, Page 16 (Supplement)

IS IT WORTH WHILE?

1 Dear Wendy,—l read your story about the • mother dog and her wee puppy, and I liked ? it so much. I guess dogs can learn uh quite 1 a lot of things worth learning if we only ’ had brains enough to heed. Fancy trotting ’ off home in euch a contented way after ' being compelled to almost drown oneself tn • rescue from a like fate a madcap scrap of ■ doggyhood, that would do things it shouldn’t 1 without waiting to administer chastiaement ! in some form or other to the cause of all the ‘ trouble, even refraining from getting the 5 culprit by the scruff of the neck and shaking it well ; treatment it more than merited, and which quite a lot of humans would have ■ given it, I don’t doubt, especiallj' as it only ' suffered from a wetting and maybe a fright. • Saved a life, then walked off a« much as to . say, "That’s nothing. Forget it,” and never even scolded the young beggar or read it a lecture or anything. A mighty good dog to have for a parent, that. I hope that puppy ! shows its appreciation someday by being the kind of dog its mother would have it grow, and I hope the owner is worthy of his dogs. Gee! but I think "Kerry the Terrier” must ’ sure belong to my "breed,” for there seems to l>e a bond of some sort between us. Perhape [ it is juKt a "fellow feeling” makes it seem so. for his exploits did remind me of myself. He does things with the best intentions in the world, and they go and turn out like he never meant them to. and then the poor little wretch has to take the consequences, and the ccnceouences in his case seems to outvie those in my own, though goodness knows I always thought they were so bad they could not well 1 be worse. However, I was glad to see hiF pals of the Animal Kingdom rallied round him, and did what they could for him when he was down and out. "True blue" those ! pals, eh ? I hope when I get thrown on a spikey fence, and caught in a trap. that some of my pals will happen along to assist me in like fashion. I really almost needed assistance, the other night, but none was near that I knew of, so I did the best I could for myself under conditions that were more than trying, though mentally promising myself that next time I allowed my feet to fetch me home in the "wee sma’ ’ours,” after a night out, I’d make them mind where they went, and watch their steps. Now, please, don’t get things into your heads when there is no need. I was sober. I really was. and in my right mind. t<Jo, I think, although I had been to a dance, which is nothing out of the ordinary for me. as I often go to a dance. Usually, however, I managed to get home at d to bed without mishap, but this occasion proved 'he excertion. and I pray that t may rd ways stay the exception, for I have no desire for it tc become the rule. And after f'.l it wy.s not the "getting home” part of tthe business that went wrong, it was the getting to "my bed” that upset me so, and the reason for this was not because I found any difficulty in locating the bed, but because I had to change my "sleeping quarters” every little while, and the night in question was one of the "whiles." and brought in its train more than the usual amount of trouble. And the dual cause of "everything’’ was a nervous mistress and an absent master. When the latter was at home I slept in an isolated bedroom at thi reai of the premises. When he (hose o roam as he often did. having as a legitimate excuse a farm at the back of beyond, I perforce had to suffer a brief promotion. and transfer my person to the spare room for its nightly dole of slumbertime, so as to be on hand should danger, in any shape or form, threaten my mistress. What I would do to seve her should an earthquake take into its head + o shake things up, I d'dn’t fcut 1 could easily save her from ‘ Taniwhas” by letting them make off with me instead. Anyway, she liked to have me < just in caße ’” Bo w bether or not I liked the arrangement, it was settled thus, and into that spare room T would have to go and sleep or not sleep, with doors locked all around me and windows shut (but not always

fastened) I got home from the dance alright and into my usual sleeping quarters. There I "shed” my evening toggery and crawled into my sleeping gear, using as much dispatch as passible, for dawn was not far away and I longed for sleep, even if it was not much more than a nap. Disdaining slippers, aoftly on little bare feet I padded through deep darkness until I came to the hall door, which gave access to the front portion of the house. Gently I attempted to open the door, but to my annoyance it refused to budge. Locked, and on the o:h<’r -»ide of a certainty would be the key. Locked also would be the front door. "Locked out, my lady, and for the firat time in your life.” I admonished myself, but nil the name I couldn’t see that I deserved it. because one doesn’t usually leave off dancing until the "wee sma’ hours,’ unless one is having a slow time, and I wasn’t rr late as I could have been had I pleased others and not myself, so all things considered I did think I was not having a fair deal. For a few shivery seconds I stood there debating whether I should knock up the mistreas or go back to rny own little room, and had almost decided on the latter course when I remembered that the spare room window was likely to be unfastened, and might give me entrance to the room, if I could get it open without too much noise. Quickly I retraced my steps, and without pause, out into the unawakened day I went regardless of unshod feet and lightly clad figure, and al!hough I was aware there had been several showers through the night I wasn’t worrying any, a« the distance I had to traverse was short and the way was concrete. I had taken but a few steps in the gloom, when, bang into "something” I went and losing my balance, over I went, "the Homething” going over with me, ami although I knew concrete was hard, and I - was doubtless hurt, I quite forgot to think of trifles like that for the thing I had fallen over was the cart of our eldest boy, and goodness knows that waa bad enough when ‘one remembers I didn’t have anything on my feet, and they were soft, poor things; but that ™ a ‘ er - an awf ul lot of water, and it didn t stay in the cart when the cart upset but poured everywhere it shouldn’t, and cold and wet as it was. had not the slightest respect for my pyjama legs, not to mention other legs, but streamed in all directions, soaking thoroughly the lower half of me. Hastily I picked myMlf up „ nd miid , >°r the window w.th all apeed. leaving tho cart to take care of iiself. Reaching it without further mishap, I pushed it open with caution, and as little noise a.t I possibly cuulc. Then in through the opening I crawl■Pl, my lower extremities in a most bedraggled condition, if one dared Judge by the "feel.” ““L th ? Ta rSt of H was 1 dw "’t have any W a nI" <|Uart ' lS - «<l I most certainly e„l„„ b. to rl * k KettinK into b >- db ?b b S t°. m >' o'™ 'oom for more. So I d d the best i could, all things considered, not neTi 1 nto " lth " ome covering, but not nearly enough for I never got anywhere f«t u W n“imf l hO "‘' h J tricd by pu,linK then nnH-n my chin touched my knees and “'"Putting my . m , round the lot as far were z ''Jr ’ 1 hug ‘"' 1 hut resu”-. yth 'a r bUt ’“tlsfaetory. Coldness reWh" m“? BW<!et S, “P r ' f u»' d to come, to ki. n ?? rn1 "® ’ didn’t wait for "dawn that bJ he n 7 K l! t ? W “ y ” , ’' for ' 1 cre »t out of •nd V ba< j k tO my ° W " roo "‘ 1 »»*'• and shivering and shaking donned my evervdai v . u e . an Etart "' in my ro ' ,nd della .*? wa . n ? myself, tho while I non;I, n m teht have beens and wonder- , rood nLht ance > ” a “ really ." orth l0 " ln,r a the .AbuS a?*?’, ° v ' r ' w, thout aufferinv ' nothinl ded f ind, « a > it1 '’ of httiised toes to say nothing of sopped pyjamas. And I do think ou/w| ban ‘Hi. W ' 11 <. tako unto themselves nervnfro ,b ! ’ they should stay at home and look and not le * v ’e the responsibility to other folk, who aren't and never call be husbands.— From "MADCAP.”

‘•WE’LL SOON HAVE LOTS OF LAMBS ABOUT NOW.” SAYS •‘QUEEN OF THE BUNNIES.” Dear Wendy.—Just a line to thank you eery much for the birthday greetings you guve me. We had such a hard frost here last , night, and I have just been down the paddock j j to see if the ice was s’rong enough to carry k me, but it waa not. We will soon have some |. lambs about now, and then we will be <e;>* I busy feeding the pets. Well, I must close • 4 now.—From your loving Ite, "QI EEN O 1 THE BUNNIES.” Mataroa. flow pieaseu i am to have your welcome | ■ wee letter, dear. I hope you spent a happy | time on your birtWsy and received lots of 1 nice gifts. We have had some v*nr ha.-J • l frosts, too, but lovely days followed wit!. , bright sunshine, so we did not mind. The lambs are such dear wee thinge, aren t they - I dn love to see them playing in the paddock. |< —Wendy. “RINTY’’ INSPIRED BY DESIRE TO BECOME A C.W.K. Dear Wendy.—As it is such a beautiful ■ spring day and feeling in the mood for writ- I ing letters. I thought I would pen you a few j lines. Has not the weather been gorgeous , the last few day*. Wendy? It has made me think of tennis game I adore), swimming I and summer frocks. It is a pleasant change after snow and so much rain. So much for the weather then. In "Laughing Lilac s letter she gave me the full address of *' Leagues > of Empire*.” Will you thank her very much i from me. please. Wendy? I have a large j number of correspondents, and I think I wui write to a French girl through the L. of E. Aa I learn French at school, we would be able to correspond in French. that be grand? I am afraid mine would be rather a queer letter by the time I had finished. I j know "Laughing Lilac’s” name, but I have never seen her to my knowledge. Perhaps , we shall meet in the near future? I kn°w ] two of the Ites at school, but I do not thffik they know me. I want to rejoin a myst-’-v. ■ Wendy, as long as I can. How many Ttes are there in Taihape? 1= Ohingaiti called "Wendytown” because of the large number of Itea there? I have a cousin living in Wan- 1 ganui and I am going to try and get her to ■ become an Ite. Then we could read each other’s letters. That "good hard swot I spoke of in my last letter did not eventuate. | I sprained my ankle whilst playing basket- ( ball at school. and I have been laid up ever . Shire for a whole fortnight. It was verv : peinful at first, but is much better now. I was asked to two parties, but I had to post- : pone them on account of not being able to walk. I am inspired with the desire to ly* i able to put C.W.K. after my name, but if writing has anvthing to do wi*h it. I am . crossed off the list. However. I will endeavour to make my letters interesting and obtain the honours that way. Is Elma Lee an Ite. Wendy? Would you please ask "Occident to write to me" I don’t want my name published. so perhaps you could give me his name (with hi- consent!, and I could wnte to him first. Well. Wendy, you will really be wondering when I vm going *0 stop, so I will now close. With lots of love to all. especially to yourself. Wendy.—Your rambling Ite. "RINTY.” Taihape. We have had some lovely days here. too. It certainly makes one think of summer games, doesn’t it? It was lovely to have the warm sun aftoy week? of rrin and cold. It would indeed be splendid to write to a pen-friend in France. You will be careful with your French though, won’t you? I hope.you .will meet our "Laughing Lilac ’ for she is a jolly Ite. There are no less than between two and three hundred Ites in the Taihape district. Yes. Ohingaiti is so named because of the large number of Itos who live there. Almost the whole number of people, including the grown-ups are members of our clan.. Dear me. but I am sorry to hear of the injury to your ankle. Be careful, dear, not to get about on it too soon. I shr.l he pleased to welcome your cousin. No, Elma Lee is not - a member. Shall I say "Yet”? I’ll a*k j "Occident.” Better still. I’ll do as you ask. | Here is his address now: Gordon F. Hunt, j Esq., care "Shanley’s." Raetihi.— Wendy. “I DANCED WITH GLEE WHEN PAPER CAME.” WRITES “SWEDISH NIGHTINGALE.” Dear Wendy,—Here I am again.. I thought I wasn’t getting a paper, and I wa<= downhearted. but I got a surprise, when it came this morning, and I danced with glee. Well. ! Wendy, I will tell you about the baby. He is a darling, and he cries when he has .a wash, but when he gets in the wate- he is alright. He eats biscuits, and he is a Glaxo . baby. After he has a biscuit we lay him down, and he is alright for a while, but when he cries they always pick him up. and I he knows it. too. I am sending three stamns ' 1 for a paper, and an essay, too. I thought ft would be too late, but I hope it has reached you in time. Oh. Wendy, there was another flood, but I don’t think it has done any damage so far. I am writing thia in a hurry to catch the mail, and I have to go out to the mill. Thanks for the piner. Wendy. I am so pleased to have it. I haven’t read it because I haven’t had time, for if I do. I will misa the mail, and I don't want to do that. I went to Otaki the other day with Mr Ingley in the car. My two sisters went with me and we had a beautiful time. ‘Well. Wendy. I think this is all for this time, eo will close now. with heaps and score? of love and kisses.—From "SWEDISH NIGHTINGALE," Shannon. I am pleased the paper arrived safely, dear. Now, I am afraid aaby is going to be spoiled. The little cherub will always cry to be picked up. They are ever >o knowing. aren’t they? I was pleased to receive your eseay. There is nothing like trying, you know. I am pleased you spent such a a lovely day at Otaki. —Wendy.

“ROSEBUD QUEEN” STRIKES OPTIMISTIC NOTE IN HOPE FOR BRIGHTER DAYS. Dear Wendy,—lt is about time I wrote again. I hope you are well and happy. You do write such cheery letters for the little folk. I see by the paper that you are sending a Comfort Ship for the less fortunates. I am sending a small contribution, which I hope will comfort and cheer some tiny soul. ; All the Ites’ letters seem to be full of the had weather, and we’ve had plenty up this way, too. The road is well blocked by slips ■ and one can only get out by horseback. We 11 1 hope that the worst of the weather is over. and that we will have a good spring to welcome the little lambs. Well, Wendy dear, I ‘ must not take up too much space, so au • revoir. Lots of love to all the and I plenty for yourself dear.—From "ROSEBUD QUEEN,” Waverley. , Hany thanks, dear. I am keeping quite well and happy. I hope you are, too. I appreciate your compliment. Sometimes it is ■ difficult to know whether one is cheery or ' not, but your approval sets my fears at rest. How splendid of you to seek to assist our Re- •; lief Ship. It is so kind of you to think of ' the poor children, whom it is our aim to comI fort. We have had some excellent days here iof late. Quite a treat from the bitter cold I and rain. However, now that spring is not ' far off. we can look forward to happy, sunny days ahead, and skies from which all gloom i has fled.—Wendv. “IT RAIN HAD KEPT ON WE WOULD HAVE HAD TO SW T,” SAYS “CORNFLOWERS.” Dear Wendy,—You will think I have for- ■ gotten you because I have not written for. 80 i long. I have been very ill, so am writing | this letter in bed. We are getting a few’ sunny days now. If the rain had kept on 'we would soon have had to swim. We had ' a big slip come down on the road, and it was ' blocked for ever so long. It was so big '■ that 25 men had to work on it. We have : two cows in. and some little lambs, and I two geese laying. Lois has gone up to our aunty Joyce’s to-day. "Scarlet BeI gonia” came home to-day on the cream i lorry. Daddy went down to the sty the other day and he found that the pig had eight little i piggies. One of my schoolmates came to see I me yesterday. My grandma was very ill. I too, and is still in bed. The doctor said that I I was not to go to school for a year, so that I could get strong. Aunty Joyce comee over nearly every day, and she brought me a , lovely book to read. It was a heavy frost ! this morning; it was right to the top of the ’ hill, but the sun is shining nicely now. I !am going to get up this afternoon for a while, and go out in the sun. Olive brought me home a lovely box of crayons and this pad I am writing on. Will you excuse the [>encil for I am in bed and cannot use ink? Hoping you are well. I remain, your loving friend, "CORNFLOWERS." Hunterville. Goodness me, but I am so sorry to hear of your illness, dear. I do hope you are soon quite better, for it is so wretched to be ill. Isn’t it lovely to have some sunny days after so many weeks of rain and cold? Dear . me, but what a huge slip. The little piggies are funny wee mites, aren’t they? Poor grandma, I am sorry to hear she also is ill. She will have to hurry up and get better, too, won’t she? How lovely of aunty Joyce. She is kind to you indeed. The pencil is nice and dark, so is quite alright, dear. — Wendy. “MARSAILE’’ EAGERLY AWAITS 10 O’CLOCK TRAIN TO-NIGHT. Dear Wendy.—How are you keeping? Brian’s leg is better now, and he is walking. I am so sorry that I did not write last week but you will get my letter this week instead. June is coming home to-night (Saturday) at ten o’clock. I have been using the wrong J ink. On Saturday lam going to the pictures. I My cousin is seven and he has a girl chum ' with whom he went to the school ball. He i also took her to supper. He is starting young. I I must now conclude. Love to yourself and I all the Ites.—From "MARSAILE," Ohakune. I am keeping quite well, thank you, dear. I hope you are well and happy, too. Won’t, it be lovely to have June home with you? I can quite imagine how excited you will be waiting for the train to arrive. I hope you spend a happy time at the pictures. Dear me, but your cousin is indeed a gallant little gentleman.—Wendy. ’“I AM GOING TO TURN OVER A NEW LEAF,” VOWS “MOREA.” ■ Dear Wendy,—l’ve turned over a new leaf, ; and I hope to write more often than of old. i Have you seen any lambs yet, Wendy? I’ve J seen four and we've three cows in. I was up on the Lismore Station for the week-end, and they have a lot of mud up there, but there’s enough anywhere at present. At school we are commencing our term examination and I am trying very hard. "Miss Dimples” posted a letter to you to-day. Ar school "Misty Morn,” "Miss Dimples" and I have a little plot in the school garden (Bx2), and I am going to have phlox in my bed this season, and "Miss Dimples” is having nemesias in her plot, but "Misty Morn” can't decide. Our first jonquil is in bloom, and I am hoping for more. This is all just now. Millions of kisses. —From "MOREA,” Makirikiri Valley. Oh, but that, is splendid. T hope you will keep your resolution, too, dear. I have seen a few lambs. Not many, though. Do they not look lovely in the paddocks as they play about ? You must let me know how you succeed. I hope you have passed. How lovely to have a little garden at school. You inuet see if you cannot eclipse your chums with your blooms. Put your letters in the one envelope by all means, dear.—Wendy.

“OH. HOW I DID CHUCKLE,” SAYS “KUBA-KI-TE-BANGI.” Dear Wendy,—Back to Letterland again! > My word, how the days do fly. I intended 1 writing to you last week, but Wednesday was i upon me before I had time to drop a , Oh, how I did chuckle while I read "Tau- ' l rangakore’s” letter in a recent issue of the ] [ Hut. My dear cousin, you will indeed make a fine detective with a lot more practise. > Fancy trailing me, thinking it was "Mick, { 5 Z.S.W.M.! Awfully sorry, co-Ite, that you’ve s received such a disappointment, but | ] give up hope. Ever heard the saying, Tiy, try, try again?" Stick to that. A detective ; . never makes a name for himself until he has ] [ had several failures. Never mind, "Tauranga--1 kore,” better luck next time, and that was , I not "Te Whakawhare” I was speaking to. j ) either. As yet I’ve not discovered the abovementioned Ite’s identity. I was in town dur- > ing the week and I met "Mick” and her nusi band. Wendy, your Ite asked me if I would 5 ask you to tell "Mick’s" pen-friends, > "Madame X.” "Mickey Drippen’ and O.K. . Pal" that she ("Mick”) will be writing to , - them in the near future. We tried to per- . E suade "Mick’s" husband to join the. but ( - he eays he’s too and does not like letter- 3 » writing, but we will give him no peace until ( 1 he becomes an Ite. I remember White F Oi - • t get-me-not” telling me that if I set m> mind r on a thing to carry it through, and never give j > up hoping. I’ve always kept to that motto. never give up hoping and I generally gain ( what I want. By the bye. Wendy, "White , Forget-me-not" is playing the wag from the j Hut a long time, is she not? Wendy, do you like Maori music? I’m very fond of any music, and I can tell you when "Mick" has j her ukelele and "Bi Nai" hie banjo-mando- - line, we have a rare time singing. "Mick s an awfully good singer. The songs Ilove to ; ’ hear her singing are "Haere Ra.” "le ? Arawa. E." "Reti Mai" and “Ake Ako-o-te ’ Rangi.” Then she sings a lot of English J songs as well. I see where “O.K. Pal" gives you an account of the College football match. ’ I’m very interested in football. Your Ite , wrote and told “Mick" that he would be 1 passing through Wanganui to go to Hawera and asked “Mick” to speak to him at Aramoho station, so “Mick." “Bi Nai,” my husband and I went down to meet the train. We were at the station about five minutes when "Kiaa u-kite Pai” came along, so we got her to ' wait, ton. We had arranged to stand back, and as "O.K, Pa!” descended from the train [ "Mick” was to go over to him and then bring 1 him to us, but Wendy. “Mick" fainted a few g minutes before the train came in, so of course, we were more concerned over our Ite than . "O.K. Pal.” A week later: Well, Wendy. I , couldn’t manage to complete this letter after f all. However, I’ll endeavour to do so this week. Wendy. I’m awfully curious over five 1 of your Wendyites. They are Ites, I know, p ns they wear Hut badges and under the ; badge they have a black cat holding a tennis racquet. They are all men that wear them. ’ so I was wondering if they were members of ( ’ the Wendy Hut Bachelors’ Tennis Club? You . j see, some of your Wanganui and Parikino 1 Ites have formed a Wendy Hut Football Club, and the members wear the Hut badge, then a , black cat holding a football underneath the Hut badge. I wish one of the men who wear the first mentioned "black cat” badges would r satisfy my curiosity. Do you think one . would, Wendy? T must close now. so cheerio. Heaps of aroha.—From “KURA-KI-TE-RANGI,” Parikino. ' How jolly of you to pay uh a visit this week, my dear. I am ever so happy to have your welcome letter. Never mind, I am sure “Taurangakore” has not given up seeking to discover "Mick’s” identity. I will deliver her (“Micks”) message to her penfriends. Now, I wonder will you succeed in persuading "Mick’s" husband to join our , ranks? Yes. I love the Maori songs. What ■ a pity you did not meet "O.K. Pal.” Dear • me, but I do hope our “Mick” is not ill. I *■ have placed a query for you on our Notice • Board re the clubs. I must confess I know - nothing about their personnel.—Wendy. “AND THEN, WON’T I ENJOY . ! MYSELF.” SAYS “BROWN EYES.” 1 Dear Wendy.—Does not the time fly ? It , • will soon be Christmas and then won’t I enr joy myself, as I go to camp at the beach. The basketball and football teams did not go 2 to the tournament at Patea as arranged as 1 Patea rang up to say that it was .impossible to play. The grounds were in an awful state. 2 They range up the day before the tournament, which was a wet day, and of course, the next day was very fine, but we are going this . Wednesday if it is fine, so why worry ? The basketball team that I am captain of is made up of seven Wendyites and two other chil- j dren. The names of the Wendyites are: . “Echo,” "Little Rewa,” "Woodlark.” "Rosemund Polly,” "Queen Starlight,” "Little 21 Ladybird” and myself. We have had very 1 , ’ heavy frosts these last few days, hut nice I • j sunny days afterwards. My brother got up c i early the other morning and went to the beach t to look for frost fish, and was very lucky in - finding one 61 inches long. Do you like frost - fish to eat. Wendy? It was the first time we r had ever tasted it. and we thought it very I nice. It is a ver?,’ pretty fish, the colour of , . aluminium, and it has a very smooth skin 1 3 and not many bones. Before I close I must ' ? thank you for the marks you gave me last ’ week. Well. I must close now. With l*jve 1 . to all the Ites and yourself.—From “BROWN < t EYES.” Waverley. Goodness, yes. the time does fly. ’Xmas will soon be with us now. What a jolly tipie , 1 you may look forward to. How disappointed , 1 you all must have been when the tournament , r was postponed. Ah, that’s the spirit. Why '■ v worry? I do feel proud to know the team you captain is almofit completely composed of ■ - Ites of our band. I notice some of them . J there are who have not written for ages. Give s them my love, please, dear. Yes, the frost i - fish are indeed a delicacy. I like them.— ■ Wendy. 1

“MISTY MOON” IN 7IEW OF APPROACHING EXAM. IS ALREADY SHAKY. Dear Wendy,—Here I am again with all the Ites and yourself after many weeks’ absence. How do you like the weather, Wendy? It has been pouring cats and dogfl here lately. While rifling my bicycle to school to-day I nearly got blown off for the wind was terrific. Did you feel the recent earthquake? Nowadays at school instead of playing basketball or other games all the girls huddle in a heap round the fire unless the boys get there first. Wendy, I’m really sure I don’t know where “Morea” has disappeared to, We haven’t started exams, yet but they are ready to start any time and I am feeling shaky already. Now for some riddles:— What goes up when the rain comes down ? —Why an umbrella, of course. Wattle bark in three letters? —D.O.G. What is the most polished king?—Blacking. Girl’s name in two letters —L.C., (Elsie). Well that will finish the riddles but see if you can gueas this: —What am I ? Behead a number that is odd and it will then be even. Its tail, 1 say next take away, then night-time it will be. even? —Answer: Seven, even, eve Well. Wendy, my time is up and pen running dry. I will say cheerio to all. With love —From “MISTY MORN,” MakiriSo pleased to have your welcome letter, dear, after so long an absence. I wondered what could have happened to you. We have had some lovely days here. Such a blessing, too, after the weeks of rain and cold. Yes, I felt the small ’quake. One needs a good fire during the cold days. Why, “Morea” is with us to-day. That will be a surprise for you, won’t it? You must let me know if you pass. Thanks for riddles.—Wendy. A WONDERFUL GIFT FROM TWO UP-RIVER ITES. Dear Wendy,—lt is not long ago since I last wrote to you and here I am again. Isn’t this a lovely day. I think we are going to have an early spring for the days seem longer, don’t you think, Wendy ? I hope you are keeping the best c. health; we are all well. Last Sunday “Maunga Ohotu,” I and mother and several others went out for a ride in a launch. Needless to say it was but a short trip down to the pa, but we enjoyed it immensely. After service we had Sunday school. The launch was to take the Rev. Henry back to Pipiriki, so after lunch we came back home again. Mother and my cousin, “Maunga Ohotu," went up to visit an aunt of mine. “Maunga Ohotu’s" little baby brother was not too well. Our geese, ducks and fowls are all laying: the turkeys have not yet begun. Well, Wendy, I see how well all the Ites are responding to Sir Richard’s appeal, and very soon our Relief ship will sail with her cargo for the unfortunates. “Maunga Ohotu” and I have sent down by to-day’s boat one sack of potatoes for our Relief Ship, but I have addressed it to Mrs Dexter and her committee. I suppose that will be quite alright? I must not occupy much of your valuable space, dear Wendy, so I will say good-bye and see you some more when next time we meet in Letterland. Heaps of love to you and your merry family.—We are, vour two Ites, “WAINUI-A-RUA” and “MAUNGA OHOTU,” Wanganui River. So pleased to have your welcome letter, dear. We, too, have had some lovely days. Yes, spring seems to have arrived, for a noticeable difference is manifest. Many thanks, yes I am quite well. How lovely to go for a ride in the launch. You are lucky to have plenty of eggs. Oh. but what a wonderful help that will be. Fancy a sack of potatoes for the Relief Ship. Mrs Dexter will be ever so pleased and happy with your gift. I will forward your letter for you.—Wendy. “SINGING TUI” HOPES WE NEVER HAVE ANY MORE BAD WEATHER. Dear Wendy,—l suppose you have been i looking for a letter from me? I have been . a long time m writing. I have just come home from town, and when I flaw the Wendy corner I thought I must write to you again. We go to dancing every Saturday afternoon. We are going to have a dancing demonstration on August 25, so 1 am looking forward to it. The weather is improving a little now I think, but haven’t the mornings been cold? I hope we don’t have any more bad weather. Well, ( must close now with much love to you all and the Wendyites.—From “SINGING TUI.” Tutaenui. Why, of course, dear. I wondered what could have become of you. I thought perhaps some old monster had run off with you. Many thanks for the particulars I asked for. How jolly to go to dancing lessons. We have had some wretched weather, but lately lovely days have greeted us. It was such a | change from the bleak days.—Wendy. “BETTER DAYS IN STORE FOR US,” PREDICTS “WHITE WATTLE.” Dear Wendy,—l know you are thinking it s time I wrote to you again, but all the same I don’t think I can find much news. I suppose 1 will think about it all when I have finished. The weather, I think, is the main topic of conversation. Whenever is it going to cease raining and blowing? If it doesn’t cease soon we will be washed away, so you will know, Wendy, what’s happened if you don’t get any more letters from me. Nevr mind, better days are in store for us. 1 had such a nice letter from “Jason Wanderer” the other day, and I have just answered it. What has become of our cheery “Sybil the Witch”? No letters from her for this past two months. I am really very sorry for not having entered in the competition, but will you please forgive me this time, Wendy, as I have had very little spare time in which to write. All the same I wish thofle Ites who ■ have worked hard every success. I am sendi ing along a small parcel of clothing for the

“NICE TO SEE THE SUNNY LAYS AGAIN,” SAYS. “YELLOW JONQUIL.”

Dear Wendy,—l look forward to every Saturday when your paper arrives. I just love to read all the Wendy letters. I went to see my friend to-day, and she has. quite recovered, and able to be about again. I also went to Sunday school. It is nice to flee the sunny days again after all the rain we had. I will close with love to you and all the Ites.—l remain, yours sincerely, “YELLOW JONQUIL," Gonville. I am so happy dear, to hear you like our pages so much. That is lovely. That is splendid news. I am pleased to learn your friend is much better. To be ill is wretched. Yes, dear, it is indeed lovely to have the sunny days with uh after so many weeks of rain and cold. —Wendy. LONG-LOST “SOUTHERN CROSS” RETURNS ONLY TO SAY GOOD-BYE Dear Wendy,—l must apologise for not having written for such a long time. I have about two or three hundred stamps for you, a lot of which are American. I am resigning from the Hut, and I am very sorry, because I have always been happy in Wanganui. I am going to Palmerston to live. Would you please give me some foreign stamps, as I have an album.—Yours truly, “SOUTHERN CROSS," Gonville. Gracious, but your letter is indeed a surprise, dear. I quite thought you had forgotten all about, us. Well, well, so you are going away. I hope, dear, that you will like your new home in Palmerston. I am sorry to hear you are leavTng our ranks. Many thanks for the stamps you have sent. I have none of the ones you ask for, because I send all I receive to an orphanage. I do not collect them for my own use. Cheerio. ( “Southern Cross,” I hope you will always be happy.—Wendy. ’’WE’RE BEGINNING TO THINK OP BUILDING A CANOE,” SAYS “OUE JOCKEY BOY.” Dear Wendy,—l suppose you will have put me on the list of missing, or crossed me off the Wendy list altogether. I cannot think of any suitable excuse, so we will let it go as laziness. Well, Wendy, dear, how are you keeping this, awful weather? We are beginning to think of making a canoe to get out with. But these last two days have been simply “corking” ; quite a treat after all the rain we have been having, but we have had to put up with two heavy frosts. However, it is well worth it, as we get a little sunshine. To-day, “Our Little Jolly Boy.” “Dancing Joan,” mother, father and mj’celf, all went for a walk over the hills. It was jolly, but it was awfully muddy and wet; it rained quite heavily, too. But for all that we enjoyed ourselves. There was not a lamb to be ween, but several farms around here have quite a few lambs. I love little lambs and calves. “Dancing Joan” has seven little calves to feed, but some of the poor wee things will be going away on the calf lorry as bobbie calves. Don’t you think it is awfully cruel? The poor, harmless, little creatures. But then people cannot keep all the calves, so that might be better than killing them yourself. “Babs’ Chum” and “The Villian” are here playing cardfl ; they are partners. I hope “The Villian” will behave. Perhaps it will be better to let him win a few games he may not Ket ' an " ry an d cause a ngnt, but all the same I have my money on the two Wendyites, so I hope they will win most games. It would not do for “The Vilhan and “Kelly the Outlaw” to play together ; they might cheat and then quarrel. and I suppose like all outlaws they would draw their guns, and I am sure I would not like that to happen, so we will try to keep them parted. Friday was our fancy dress dance. It was very enjoyable. There was a crowd there, I believe they took £11; tha„ was very good for Mangaonoho. There were a lot of nice fancy costumes. I never went in a fancy costume, as I did not wish to - ~r he bail wa9 held in Poukiore Hall as Mangaonoho has no hall. The Poukiore school children join in, so that made more children. It was the first fancy dress dance a in o heel V to ’ and !t finißhe d nil too soon. 10.30 ‘he grown-ups claimed the floor. I wen t with "Dancing Joan” and “BabB 1 Chum, and, of course. I had to wait until they were ready to go home. I soon grew tired of waiting, too. It was 8.15 when we arrived home. My word, that is the latest 1 .have ever been out. Well. Wendy dear, I will Eave to close now. “The Villian" told rtnf’/u VOU that he wil be wri ting soon. 1 won t bore you any longer, so cheerio, with and a,! the Ites.—From OUR JOCKEY BOY,” Mangaonoho. I quite thought you had forgotten us L am p J eased to have your welcqjne letter after such a long, long absence. I am keeping quite well, thank you. We have had some lovely days here at last. How nice to go for a walk over the hills. The lambfl and 'him* f Sre n ar Wee creatures - I love to see at Til to °-. Dear y es > the "outlaws” must do for t 8 kBPt flPaVt ’ Tt WOU,d neve1 ’ would it’ T me ?t a nd engage in combat. hVTo a' 1 an i £ ,ad you enjoyed the fancy dress dance. Jolly affairs, are they not? t do dope The Villian” will not forget his promise.—Wendy. get nis

DOODLES,” Okirae.—The stamps will be most welcome indeed, my dear. What an age ■some of them must be. That is the spirittU*u. if, no notice of the wretched weather.’ 1 that t 0 d well upon its coldness makes conditions even more miserable, don’t you 9 An excellent thought, and I shall be ever so pleased to have your help towards our Cargo of Comfort. It was a great match, and worthy of the cause for which, yearly, the Men in Blue and our Knighta compete.— Wendy.

“HAWTHORN BERRY” COMES TOP OF HER CLASS.

Dear Wendy,—l am sending you a etory for your competition. I came first in my class with u total of 801 marks. “Sea Nymph" sits with me at school, and I think that she is going to write to you. She has been to Christchurch for two months on account of her sister's health. Well, Wendy, as I must do my homework I wi’i e’m-r. From your loving Ite, “HAWTHORN BERRY,’’ Marton. So pleased to receive your entry for the competition, dear. Bravo 1 So you came top in your class. That is just splendid. I am proud of you. I hope "Sea Nymph" does write. —Wendy. “WEATHER CLERK HAS BEEN TREATING US WELL,’’ SAYS “BONNIE PRIMROSE.” Dear Wendy,—Oh, dear me, Wendy, doesn’t the time fly past? Soon we will be having Christmas again. This time, Wendy, I will have to let you know that my little pet lamb died, but I nave another one, so I will ask you to give it a name please. My word. Mr Weather Clerk has been treating us well, hasn’t he? I’m sure he must have ahu ... that the little lambs were just longing for the sun. They look lovely frolicking all over tne paddocks. After the holiday the Marton Girl Guides are putting on a play. It is called "Lucky Cinderella." Have you ever heard of it, or seen it played? “Will-o’-the-Wisp" has a part in it. 1 think she just suits it O.K. Well, dear Wendy, please excuse this dreadful scrawl, as 1 am in a dreadful hurry. So cheerio. —From “BONNIE PRIMROSE,” Bonny Glen. Yes, dear, the time does fly swiftly by indeed. ’Xmas has no sooner been iarcwelled than it is round again. Dear me, but I am sad to hear of your pet's death. A name for the new one? Well, let me see. Supposing we cal it "Lucia” ? How will that name do? The Clerk has sent us some splendid days indeed. But how cold in the mornings, though. Still, one does not mind the frost so long as it is nice and sunny afterwards, does one ? The lambs look such dears as they play in the paddocks. 1 could watch them all day. Yes, I have seen the playlet. It is splendid. Oh, I know “Will o’ the Wisp” would do well in any part assigned to her. — Wendy.

“CYCLAMEN” SEES MANY ITES AT TOURNAMENT.

Dear Wendy,—You will be thinking that 1 have forgotten all about you, but I haven't. I have been all excitement for the last week about the basketball tournament. My word we enjoyed ourselves. The Ohingaiti Old Girls and the Hunterville C team gained the most points during the day, and every girl in each team received an Easter egg in an eggcup. A bit late for an Easter egg, aye? But it was a nice little gift, wasn’t it, Wendy? I saw "Madame X.” "Apple Pie,” "Mother-in-law,” "Babs,” "Pixie” and many other Ites at Hunterville last Saturday. I saw some girls with badges on there, but didn’t like to ask them their pen-namee. I had "Laughing Moon,” from Mataroa, who is staying at her aunty’s in Hunterville, to see me one Sunday a while ago. We did have three fine days and we were very lucky to get a fine day on Saturday, weren’t we, Wendy ? Well, I am nearly falling to sleep over this, so I will close with my best love to you and your merry band.—From "CYCLAMEN,” Hunterville. Why, dear, I knew you would not forget me. I am ever so pleased to have your welcome letter. Yes, 1 guessed you would all enjoy yourselves. How lovely to receive «o nice a gift. A bit late, I agree, but never too late. Oh, gracious! And all those who wore badges would be just dying to have you speak to them. What a pity you were shy. Never mind, perhaps next time. How nice to receive a visit from "Laughing Moon.”— Wendy. “A NICE TO-PO THERE D BE,’’ SAYS “MADCAP.” I was glad to see a letter from "Traveller” in our pages recently, also one from "Hut’s Best Man.” They both deserve pieces of the "re-union” cake (if only tiny bite) for answering the roll call sometimes. There arc those who answer never. I’m beginning .0 think we will have to send Tiger Tim and his ilk after "Blue Danube,” "Old Maid” and a few others. They seem to keep them- I selves out of print far too long, but perhaps i they are over-worked. They cannot have , much spare time trying to look after the Hut’s precious belongings, including all the ' members of our much-prized Animal King- ' dom as well as minding their own affairs. "Just Daddy” should be re-christened “True Blue Daddy,” and if “Big Brother” owned him for a father, I am sure ho would have turned out a better blue kind of brother. What to think of our mothers I don’t know, but if they are burdened with sons like our brothers appear to be, they should be given a ' large doee of pure sympathy, and let vest for J the remainder of their nveb. However, we are not quite orphans on cur maternal side I for we have Quite a nice "Mother-in jaw.” j A much nicer one than n oet folk get, judg- i ing from what one hears, and we have - another precious possession in our "Fairy | Godmother," so all things considered we are ' not so badly off. "Wood Violet,” I do not I wish you any harm dear, but I do hope you i will keep on being wrong every time you I think you have found me out. I hate being J found out, more because I wouldn’t be able j to scold everybody then, than for any other j reason. Go on guessing, there’s a dear. Tell ; "Cows” to keep "Traveller” up to the . mark. He owes me a letter, although I’ll give him credit for not being aware of it, for I j discovered by chance that one I wrote him mouths ago never reached him. I found pages of the letter in someone elsc’s bag 1 when hunting for something else I’d missed. ' "Red Ball” has sure lived some life and ! struck some heavy going, but the experience ■ gained should be worth while. Still, I don't i think I’d like Australia as well as little old i N.Z. Too many snakes over there. I do not | like snakes. I’d rather have a Taniwha any I day, even if they arc "unlovely monsters.” : You do have an even chance of being turned into a pet or a dinner, but with snakes, one has no option. “Way Back Liz,” may I, in our Land of Make-believe, claim the privilege of a good hearty grip of your hand on your entrance into our midst? Being vouched for by our “Hut’s Padre.” would ensure you a welcome, but apart from that I am sure you are “one of the kind” one loves to know, so that you will be more welcome on your own account, or should I cay doubly welcome. As for finding you out, well, I may "hae” suspicions, but I did not keep those binoculars you know, I put them back again. I may beg and borrow, but so far I have kept clear of stealing, and I'm not going to start off by getting away with the "Hut’s Lookout i Man’s” trusty binoculars. A nice to-do j there would be if he came back and caught me with "the goods.” I might borrow them 1 again whenever I want them unless "Hut’s Look-out Man” comes back and stope me. If I thought that pinching them properly would fetch him back from wherever he has got to. I’d pinch them hard all the rest of their lives. No, on second thoughts I wouldn’t, because how in the world could he discover me without his trusty binoculars? I’ll have to think the matter over, so, dear "Wayback Liz,” for the present you are safe. "Hut’s Padre,” I would love to help you bear your yoke, but when I sum up my qualificationfl they don’t seem the right kind to be of any assistance to you. I rather think your collar buckled on to me would prove a worse misfit than “my cap” stuck on to you. But I’m going to make good use of your magic glasses quite often, and I am sure they will prove invaluable. When I scan our pages for the name "Hut’s Padre,” and find it not. I’ll put on the far-sight glasses and “hope.” When week after week goes by, and the name is still conspicuous by its absence, *l’ll don the nearsight ones and think, “poor dear he hasn’t forgotten us, but he hasn’t much time, eo I'll be charitable and won’t say or even think horrid things, and when the weeks run into months, and still he does not appear, I’ll wear the in-sight pair, and I’ll know that he will come along whenever he is able ; to, no matter how long a time he may be ; absent, and that present or absent he loves ■■ us all very dearly.” I really never thought I’d be guilty of saying such a thing; but I almost wish you didn't love us quite so much, at least I mean love “me” quite so much. It seems I am missing such a rare experience I might otherwise have had, had you loved us less. But if I go on like thifl I’ll be like to “get the experience,” won't I, so I’ll leave you alone until next time and please don’t test out those magic glasses too much, for, dear "Hut’s Padre.” I like your letters so much and I am far from being' the only one. Now, I know this letter is far longer than it has any business to be, ho I’ll finish it off before I think of something else to say. Cheerio, dear Wendy, and all our Wendyites. Love to all.—From "MADCAP.” Waitotara.