TO WENDY HUT

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 84, Issue 85, 12 April 1940, Page 3

TO WENDY HUT

Our Children’s Corner

My Dear Children. . . My goodness, but how the days are beginning to draw 'm. There's little time for games after tea now, is there? You know it not a pleasant thought to have old King Winter so close at hand again, is it? However, the Jong winter evenings are jolly in that we can sit before cheery fires with our favourite book and there is great enjoyment reading of one’s hero or heroine as they live in that enchanted land of Make-believe. Speaking of stories reminds me it is time for to-day’s. Let’s read the adventures that befell little Henrietta Elizabeth: ‘‘Knock and ring." This is what it said on the door of the tool shed, in big, bold letters. ” “How extraordinary I" said Henrietta Elizabeth. And indeed :l was. the letters seemed to have grown up like mushrooms in the night. Yet there stood the door in its old place, just where it had stood ever since Henrietta could remember. Very timidly she put out her hand and touched the bell. And then she jumped back in a fright, for the door opened, and out popped a strange little man. A brown leather coat lie had on. and a funny round cap, stuck on sideways, with a cheeky feather in it. while all the rest of him seemed legs and feet. Enormous feet they were, covered with pointed leather shoes. "Come in! Come in!" he cried. And Henrietta walked in, her eyes growing bigger with wonderment every minute. This was what she saw. A great avenue of trees stretching on and on, so far that it seemed to have no end. The tree trunks, straight and prim, looked like palings; but behind them, row upon rows, were great masses of glorious wild flowers—huge, perfectly shaped, dazzling. “How lovely!” Henrietta cried, running towards them. The little man ran after her. “No! No!’’ he said. "You can look, but you mustn't touch.” Henrietta was a spoilt little person. "Why not?” she pouted. "Why can’t I have some? There are heaps and heaps—l never saw so many before.’’ The little man didn’t seem to doubt her. •‘I don't suppose," he said, smiling, ‘‘that you have any idea where you are?” Henrietta shook her head. She hadn't. So the little man explained. The wood, it appears, was the cradle of the wild flowers, where all the wild flowers of the world are born. “The fairies come here for Ihe seeds,” she was told, "and while you are asleep they, scatter them over the fields and hedges." “Really!” exclaimed Henrietta much surprised. “I often wondered where all the flowers came from.” “Well, now you know.” the little man said, nodding his head; "and if you will follow me I’ll show you something more wonderful still. But what it was she never knew, for directly he turned his back the naughty child slopped and picked a beautiful cornflower. As she slipped it into her frock the little man swung sharply round. “Put it back —quick,” he cried, “or you’ll be sorry!” Henrietta Elizabeth pulled out the flower and looked at it. It was quite the finest she had ever seen. "No!” she said defiantly. “If the flower is picked the root dies." The little man spoke severely. "You are depriving the world of something very beautiful.” “I don't care," said Henrietta. "You mean that as long as you get what you want you don’t care who goes without,” insisted the little man. “You are a heartless little thing!" "I’m not," retorted Henrietta angrily—that was what Nurse had called her so many times. ‘‘l can’t be heartless when I’ve got a heart." “You haven’t; you’ve lost it," said the little man, looking down at something that lay in his hand. “Ob, you’ve stolen my heart!” she cried. “Give it to me, please!" But the little man drew back. “You must!" pleaded Henrietta. “I can’t live without at heart.’’ And she put out her hand. But he slipped the little panting tilling through a slit in his coat and ran off. ‘‘Stop! Stop!” cried Henrietta. But he took no notice. On he ran, with Henrietta at his heels. The faster she ran the faster went the little man in front of her. She ran till her breath came in great gasps, till her legs ached and the tears welled up in her eyes. She begged, she implored him to stop, but he never answered. On and on and on. Would he never stop? Did those dreadful trees never end? She had forgotten the cornflower, but suddenly she remembered. She held it out. "Here It is! Take it!" she sobbed. “I’ll never She stopped, for the earth was opening in front of her. She fell forward with a scream and shut her eyes. And when she opened them again she was astonished to find herself at home in her little bed! She put her hand to the place where her heart ought to be. Yes; it was there al! right, thumping away like a tiny steam engine. What a fright she had had! Oh, Henrietta Elizabeth. Now, dear cherubs, I fear our stay in Letterland has been a little long, and so off we must go until next Saturday. All my Jove and kisses from your affectionate WENDY