Kiddies Sunshine Circle

Ladies' Mirror, Volume 4, Issue 10, 1 April 1926, Page 42

Kiddies Sunshine Circle

Dear Kiddies. —The Mirror has been in the past of most interest to your mothers, aunts, sisters and the grown-up members of the family, but in order to make it more truly “the Home Journal of New Zealand ” the Editor has promised to reserve one or two pages for the little ones, who really are most important people, aren-t they? We will call this section the “ Kiddies’ Pages ” because kiddies is such a friendly and cheery word to use when we wish to refer to the bright young souls who are the life of every true home, and of whom a poet sings: “In books, or work, or healthful play, Let our first years be passed, That we may give for every day Some good account at last.” Therefore I am going to try and make these pages so interesting for you all by printing bright, instructive stories with pictures and sketches, which I hope will please you; also we will have riddles and competitions for our clever little readers to puzzle out and write to me about. It is said by another poet: “ And he who gives a child a treat Makes joy-bells ring in Heaven’s street.” I want you all to help me to make our pages interesting and let our motto be: “ Always merry and bright.” Soon we will start compe-

titions which will give you all a chance of gaining prizes and becoming members of our “Sunshine Circle.” In the next number of The Mirror I shall tell you what the Editor is planning to make our winter evenings cheerful and give you interesting recreation. Meanwhile I want some of my little sisters and brothers to write me short letters of about one hundred words written in ink on one side of the paper only, to tell me how they like the idea of the “Kiddies’ Pages,” and what would make them most interesting to you. A useful little prize for the best letter received. . Be sure to write your name and address clearly, and state your age (which on this occasion must not be more than 15 years). Hoping you will all rally round the “ Sunshine Circle ” and help to make it a big success. Best wishes to all my little friends, from vour big sister, “SUNSHINE.” Address; The Mirror, Customs Street East, Auckland. In (§unny Gey lon John lives on a tea plantation in Ceylon. You would think from his Christian name that he is an English boy; but he is not, as you would guess at once from his family name if I told you it. But it is really so long and so hard to say that perhaps I had better not! John is a Singhalese. His father is a kangani, or overseer, on a big tea estate among the hills in the middle of the island, and works for an English tea-planter. It is beautiful up there among the hills, and not nearly so hot as in the plains along the coast. John lives in a land of eternal summer, and rarely puts on many clothes. Not far away the hills rise into mountains, and on one of them, called Adam’s Peak, there is a wonderful temple, which John often visits. On the hill slopes are the tea bushes, all neatly planted in long rows and all kept pruned down to

about four feet in height. Here and there are palms, or rows and rows of young rubber trees to give shelter to some of the tea bushes that need it. Down below are the wide-roofed buildings of the factory where the tea is made ready for use; for a great deal has to be done to it after it has been picked from the bushes. And on a sheltered slope is the fine bungalow where the planter himself lives. IN a little valley below runs a tiny stream along whose banks are the “ coolie lines ” where the labourers live who work on the estate. John’s family live down there, but in a separate little white-walled hut thatched with dry brown palm leaves. His people are Singhalese, and of a different race altogether from the people who do most of the work on the plantation.

The tea pickers are Tamils, and come from Southern India. Some stay in Ceylon; but very many go back to India as soon as they have saved a little money, and buy a tiny bit of land for their own. I do not suppose they earn much more than a penny a day, if as much; but they have nothing to pay for house rent or for the doctor at any rate. Their food is very cheap, for rice is grown in the island; and the climate is so warm that clothing is not an expensive matter at all. On this plantation the coolie line where the Tamils live is a long low

building of one storey, which is divided up into separate rooms, one to each family. It is not much, but they spend most of their lives in the open air; so it does not matter.

Each gang of coolies has its kangani, or overseer, who not only sees that they do their work properly, but when necessary speaks for them to the dorai, or master. The kanganics are often Tamils, who understand the workers better; but John’s father knows Tamil and the Tamils, and does very well. TI T'ORK begins shortly after day- * » break. The coolies are drawn up in two lines like soldiers on parade, but not so smart! They consist of two or three hundred men, women, and children, and are sent off in gangs--some to do this and others to do that. The men usually do the pruning, and the women and children the plucking. Men do the heavier work on the estate, too. There is no winter in Ceylon, and the tea bushes put forth new shoots all the year round. But from time to time the planter must give bushes a rest, and it is then that the delicate work of pruning is done by the Tamil men, who are born gardeners. If you saw a field of newly pruned bushes you would think that they were all ruined; for they look just as if locusts or caterpillars had been at themjust bare stems and cut-back branches. But in a month or two the pruned bushes are fresh and green again, so wonderful is the climate of Ceylon for making things grow.

Plucking is done when the bushes are flushing or budding, as they do when bright sunshine follows heavy showers. Each field is plucked about once every eight or ten days. Only the young and tender leaves are of any use. Tamil girls and children, dressed in loose white garments, with long veil-like head-dresses to keep off the sun from the backs of their heads, go up and down the neat rows, plucking the tender leaves with clever fingers, and putting them into the tall wicker baskets they bear on their backs. Twice or thrice during the day the leaves are sent down to the factory, when they are weighed and then spread out to wither on fats or shelves in the lofts. AFTER that many other things have to be done, and machinery must be used to deal with so great a quantity. The leaves must be rolled and sifted, and then left to ferment or turn black. It is fired by passing currents of dry hot air over and through it, and then sifted and sorted again. Much of the tea goes over-seas and unless properly packed gets spoiled by the sea-air. To keep it out the tea is packed in wooden chests lined with thin sheets of lead, so that the sea-air cannot get at it. When the tea gets, say, to London, it is mixed and blended and then packed up in the neat packets we buy at the shops. John’s greatest treat is to go with his father by train down the pleasant hills to the big city of Colombo by the sea, especially when the south-west monsoon is driving heavy black clouds full of rain before it, and making the sea sprout in giant columns of foam upon the long breakwater that shuts in the splendid harbour and the big ships. He always goes to the Pettah, or native part of the city. For Colombo has a European quarter, with fine houses and big biuldings, and a native quarter, which is througed with shaven Tamils, white petticoated Singhalese, with big combs stuck in their hair, turbaned men from India, Arabs, Malays, Parsis, and hosts of other Eastern people. SCORES of tiny native shops are on both sides of the way, where you can buy brightly coloured cotton cloth, pottery, curry stuffs, fruits, sweetmeats, and so forth. Huge two-wheeled bullock carts, with palm leaf thatch on them, rumble slowly along; lighter carts drawn

by a single bullock carry passengers. From the trees huge black crows swarm down for tit-bits; barbers shave heads in the open streets; and here and there is a little crowd around snake charmers and their baskets of big cobras. Cobras and other snakes, as well as lizards, live in the palm thatch of the little one-roomed huts in which many of the poor live. No Singhalese would dream of killing a cobra, if he could help it. But if he gets too afraid of it, he traps it, pops it

in a wicker basket and sets it afloat on the river. A nice find for the person who is inquisitive enough to open the basket, isn’t it? [This story is taken from one of two delightful little books that were sent to the Editor called “ Children of the Field and Forest ” and “Children of the Mountain and Plain by “ Uncle Robert.” These children’s books come from Messrs. A. & C. Black Ltd., Soho Square, London, and can be had at any of the leading booksellers.'] CJry this Kiddies GET a handful of small haricot beans and a long piece of silver or gold thread. You can get the

beans from mother, and a yard and a half of the thread only costs a penny or two. Soak the beans in coloured water till they are soft enough to stick a needle through them, but don’t let them get too soft or they will split. The water can be coloured by using a bit of any dye, some brightcoloured ink, or even ordinary washing blue. When the beans are soaked enough, dry them carefully with a cloth and start to thread them, making a knot before and after each one. Then you’ll have a lovely necklace which will make a fine present for a little, sister. CJhe CJhree efforts 'VT'VONNE was always sleepy at 1 lesson time, and she used to yawn and yawn, until everyone near her began to yawn also. This worried her Mummy so much that she asked Yvonne’s godmother about it. She was a fairy godmother, and knew magic. So it was always best to ask her help. “I’ll speak to Yvonne,” she said; “it’s such a silly trick, and most annoying for the rest of the family. Send her to the old oak tree in the wood next Saturday afternoon.” So Yvonne went, and she was so excited that she quite forgot to yawn at all. Her godmother gave her a lovely time and never said anything scoldy until the end. Then she said, very seriously: “Now, you must learn not to yawn at the wrong time, little one.” Yvonne did not answer rudely, because she was afraid of her fairy godmother, but she thought to herself that when she got home she would yawn as much as she liked. Then her godmother told her she could have three wishes, but only if she deserved them! And when Yvonne asked how she could deserve them, she said by not yawning when she was with anyone else. And she told her to swallow three little sugary pills, one for each wish. So Yvonne kissed her, and went home. The wishes were not to begin for three days. For two whole days Yvonne did

not yawn at all, not even alone, but the third day she got out of bed the wrong way, and did not care for anyone or anything. She was so idle in school that the teacher made her stand up by herself. And Yvonne was in such a rage that she opened her mouth and shut her eyes, and made a huge and quite hideous yawn. ‘Presents Yon Can Make with Acorns A S you will see by the illustrations, ever so many toys can be made out of acorns. Collect as many acorns as you can, a few burnt-out matches and a short length of wire, and a small drill. In April the acorns are getting rather dry, and they may split when you try to bore holes in them, so it is a good plan to soak them for a few hours to render them less brittle. The little man with his pipe is made out of two acornsone large one for his body, and a small one in its cup for his head. Two holes are bored at the blunt end of the larger acorn for inserting the legs, a small one at the top for the neck, and one on each side for the arms. The cup of the smaller acorn represents his hair, and is cut back in front to reveal his forehead. One fine hole is made for the neck in the lower pointed end of the head acorn, and one where the mouth is drawn for the stem of the pipe. Cut matches of the right length for the arms and legs. Join head and body by wire and cut a tiny piece of wire for the stem of the pipe.

The little lady's head is made in much the same way. Her bodice is made by an acorn placed sideways, with a hole at either end for arms. The skirt is half a large acorn.