THE GOOD NEIGHBOUR

New Zealand Journal of Agriculture, Volume 69, Issue 4, 16 October 1944, Page 385

THE GOOD NEIGHBOUR

HALLOWE’EN

Last night I went to a Hallowe’en party. Although I had not been in the locality before (my friends having moved here only a few weeks previously) I had no difficulty in finding the house, for seated grinning on top of the gatepost was an enormous jack-o’-lantern made from a hollowed pumpkin and lit by the glow of an electric torch. Other pumpkin faces looked down from various vantage points in the hall, and over the door leading into the lounge two broomsticks formed an archway. The walls were panelled with black cats, hobgoblins, bats, and other appurtenances of witchcraft, while above the mantelpiece there was a harvest frieze depicting a full moon shining upon the “fruits of the earth.” For Hallowe’en is not only the time when witches and mischievous spirits are abroad, but is also an occasion of thanksgiving for the bounty of the seasons. We indulged in all the usual Hallowe’en pastimes, including bobbing for apples (a rather watery occupation, and one in which good clothes are definitely a handicap!); ghost stories recounted in sepulchral tones and accompanied by weird sound effects, so that chills chased up and down our spines; and before the lights went on again a guessing competition wherein a number of objects were passed round, the sole means of identification being by touch. It was rather fun viewing the different articles afterwards and finding how frequently our guesses had been wide of the mark. .. At suppertime each guest was presented with a favour quaint animal shapes cut from coloured paper, miniature brooms of dried grasses fastened to smooth twig-handles, or little wise-eyed owls fashioned from pine-cones. Afterwards we repaired one by one to a dim, cave-like alcove, where our hostess, in a pointed black hat and voluminous cloak over her scarlet skirts, read our fortunes from the cards as an additional proof of her versatility. Altogether it was a most entertaining evening. As I went home I fell to pondering on the old superstitions: for instance, at this time of the year it used to be considered dangerous to go out alone, especially if you were no longer youthful. Another belief was that cnildren born on Hal-

lowe’en were endowed with supernatural gifts. Though we no longer give , credence to such primitive ideas, I wonder if we have really progressed as far as science would have us believe. This is the age of the machine, due to man’s skill and inventive genius in the laboratory and workshop. Would that our spiritual development had kept equal pace. Too many people to-day are a prey to fear—“fear of the unknown, fear of disaster, fear of evil. Fear always lurking in the mind can become a habit,:, a . bad habit.” .. The power of thought can either help or hinder us in this regard. As Sophocles, that famous poet and dramatist of ancient Greece, once said: “Thoughts are mightier than strength of hand.” If our thoughts are turned inwards most of the time, our fears are magnified till we become obsessed by them. But let us think about others instead of ourselves and be concerned for their welfare; let us overcome our hesitancy and anxiety by decisive action; let us, instead of seeking escape, DO the thing we fearand we are well on the way to surmounting our difficulties and attaining a richer and more effectual life. This is where we womenfolk have such a big responsibility. To the mother is

entrusted not only the care of the child’s physical needs, but the greater task of disciplining his character and training him for worthy citizenship. If we are to be faithful to that trust we must cultivate in our children the positive qualities: cheerfulness, tolerance, generosity, initiative, and, most important of all, fearlessness. The courage to strive, to battle and endure, the courage that is “the footstool of the Virtues, upon which they stand,” is founded in “the nurseries of home.”

V Weather Lore When the wind is in the east, ’Tis good for neither man nor beast; When the wind is in the north, The skilful fisher goes not forth; When the wind is in the south, It blows the bait in the fishes’ mouth; When the wind is in the west, Then ’tis at the very best.

—Traditional.

Handy Home-made Kitchen Measure

WARTIME food shortages and the advent of new foods like dried eggs and household milk mean that the housewife has to try her hand at’many new recipes. Good results cannot be expected unless the ingredients are measured out accurately.

Wartime shortages, however, also extend to kitchen equipment,, and many households are unable to obtain proper scales or measures. Following out recipes by guesswork or by using cupfuls or handfuls as measurements is liable to lead to disappointment. This can be avoided if a handy kitchen measure is made from a 21b. jam jar as described in this article. Housewives will find the measure saves time and labour and avoids waste. Instructions You require a 21b. glass jam jar, a small quantity of good sticking glue (waterproof type, if possible), and a small quantity of varnish (when available). Carefully cut out the measure strips reproduced here. Glue these to your jar at regular intervals so that you get a clear space between each pair of strips. Be very careful that the bottom of your strip is level with the base of the jar— fact, before sticking down it is wise to see that the end of the strip touches the table. When you have the strips in position lift the jar and press the lower end of each strip closely on to the jar. You now have' a complete measure which can be relied upon. If you use a waterproof glue and varnish the surface of the strips,, you can use the jar for measuring liquids as well. -

Here is another way to make your jar suitable for liquid measures, if you are handy with a small paint brush. Stick your strips on as above, but using paste or non-waterproof glue. Then carefully rule a line down the side of your paper strip in white enamel, marking at angles the measure marks, and then in long hand putting in the quantities, 40z., Boz., 120 z., etc. When the paint is quite dry immerse the jar in water and the paper strips can be carefully removed. This will leave the white enamel markings, which will be impervious to water when you wish to wash the jar.

Note: When measuring other than liquids place dry product into the measure, then gently tap the bottom of the jar on the table until the contents are level with the measure mark. Spoon Measure Where spoon measures are required it is very necessary that

HERE IS YOUR GUIDE SHOWING SPOON MEASURE

a standard type should be used. Reproduced here you ■will see oval-shaped diagrams in three sizes. They represent the outside measurements of the recognised standard-size teaspoon, dessertspoon, and tablespoon. Place your own spoons over these patterns and they should fit exactly. You can then safely use these for your smaller measures. For a level spoonful fill the spoon to edge level and smooth off any surplus with a knife. This will give you accurate measurements. A heaped spoonful is roughly twice a level spoonful. Issued with the approval of the United Kingdom Ministry of Food.

at - J-fonre - ’

IFIND that to tackle some job which one knows should be done, but which has been pushed to one side in my case it is usually mending of some —leaves such a virtuous feeling afterwards. Sometimes I take a few minutes for a special game with my children. Who can be unhappy when a child laughs in a game (and games are twice as much fun when an adult joins in).“Rosemary.” AS I look at the bulbs coming through, the primroses showing their creamy faces, and shrubs and plants springing into life, I think, “Here is promise that the winter is over. What am I worrying about? I must look on the bright side and have more faith, and things will come — “Spring.” HOW I wish you could see all our plum trees and ornamental shrubs in full bloom. Even the kitchen duties are lightened, for from the windows I look out to the orchard, which is bordered by these plum trees. It

really is a glorious vision. In the orchard, too, there ’are a few sheep with young lambs — has really come.”— “Kahikatea.” ON a wet day I let the kiddies have a tea-party by the fire and I lose myself in my favourite book, “A Lantern in her Hand.” After having lived with the heroine for a while and gone through some of her trials and anxieties and hardships as she faced life in the western prairies of America, I realise that I have riches untold to bless my days, and I am thankful for a life so — “Farmlander.” I HAVE always been fortunate in possessing a large garden. There is healing in a garden, and life and music, and good solid comfort in gathering flowers, fruit, and vegetables which someone less fortunate is always glad to accept. If the time happens to be early evening the birds seem very near companions as they chatter before going to bed. “ Then and Now.”

I LIKE to give one room a real facial and improve or alter some aspect of it—perhaps rearrange the pictures or the furniture, or wash and iron the cushion covers (and how often the kitchen ones seem to need it!) Sometimes I rummage out a disused article of clothing or piece together scraps of material and out of them fashion a wee garment. I do not attempt anything big. Sometimes I embroider a design on a garment which was plain before. These things give lasting satisfaction to me as they are truly — “Teragram.” THE weather has been so mild this past week that I have been tempted to garden. Now if only the weather-man will continue to be lenient and sparse with his frosts, all should be well. A good neighbour has given me some dahlia tubers, so it will be grand watching their growth to “Roundabout.”

READING the letter by Roslyn,” Dunedin, reminded me of the disappointment I had when I was small and let a string of tiny beads that my aunt had given me to thread slip down a crack in the boards of our verandah. I tried to find a loose board to see if I could get my arm underneath and reach them. Then went to my mother and asked her to get someone to lift the boards, since if those beads had been gold they could not have been more precious.— “Fintry,” T REMEMBER hearing a talk once 1 where the speaker said that we should periodically stop, get up on a hill-top mentally, and look down at the path we have trodden so long and see just what we’ve made of ourselves. I think that’s a grand idea. But we’ve got to be really honest in our stocktaking. I’ve been jolted myself into serious thought over this when I occasionally hear a wellmeaning, quite lovable person say : “I do believe in this, I do think we should do that,” and yet sadly enough, in spite of thinking, they don’t do it. —“Tiggety Boo.”

Are You Superstitious? A RE you superstitious or are you one of those happy-go-lucky folk who laugh at such beliefs, dismissing them as sheer nonsense and never, never stepping aside if a ladder happens to be in the path, but making a point of passing directly underneath, instead of going round it like the majority of people?

PERSONALLY, I can never see why the wearing of a green dress renders me any more liable to attract ill fortune than when I am garbed in blue or red —in fact, green is a favourite colour of mine where my wardrobe is concerned. As for any evil ensuing from filling my vases with the feathery golden loveliness of —well, sufferers from hayfever are the only ones who might have just cause for condemning my action. And what possible harm could result from my first viewing the new moon through the window-pane? I’d be much more likely to catch cold if I , stood about in the chill air outside awaiting for the pale, slender crescent to appear. Remember the old nursery jingle: “See a pin and pick it up, all the day you’ll have good luck”? It may be a trifle more appropriate in wartime when pins are in short supply, but handy little articles though they are, a needle and thread gives much more satisfactory results, in my estimation. When you were a child did you ever go to bed on the last night of the month determined to say “Rabbits!” first thing on waking in the morning? The custom probably originated from the belief in eastern countries that the moon is inhabited by a rabbit or a hare who pounds with pestle and mortar the elixir of immortality. This rabbit is always kind to children, girls in particular, and many a mother in those parts slips a paper rabbit inside the lining of her daughter’s shoe so that the wearer will make a happy marriage. Black cats are universal bringers of good fortune, especially in China, where they are grandiloquently styled as “Protectors of Silk-worms.” The title is based on practical merit, however, since rats are notoriously fond of silk-worms, and what better vanquishers of rodents than cats? Their popularity dates back to very early times, and there is a story concerning a certain Empress in the eighth century who was so fond of cats that she taught them to drink out of the same bowl as her pet parrotsa proceeding which did little towards maintaining tranquillity in the palace! Actually I am a trifle prejudiced against the species myself, but that is largely due to the nightly depre-

dations of a lusty, dark prowler which invariably leaves deep paw-marks all over my freshly-dug flower-beds and makes the wee sma’ hours hideous with his howls. Foxes and badgers are always associated with mischief and malicious intentions, though occasionally they redeem their misdeeds by curing coughs and colds; but the virtue of the canine race is such that the word •“dog,” written on a child’s forehead, acts as protection against any injury a fox can devise. No baby in the Orient thinks of crying if a little red bag containing dog’s hair be attached to the back of his garments; and the inscription of the noun “puppy” on the upper part of his person will ensure untroubled slumbers. Talking of sleep, it is considered good to dream of bats, tortoises, or turtles, and even snakes and bears indicate happy tidings, though if you see those industrious creatures ants in your dreams you will be exceedingly unlucky. The reverse of our rhyme, “One for sorrow, two for joy,” obtains in China. There a lone magpie is regarded as propitious; and a . duck squawking at a passer-by and crows cawing and a hen flying on to a roof are all bad omens. The ancient Maori also at-' tributed unusual qualities to various birds, the New Zealand owl, or morepork, foretold disaster, as did the sound of a robin calling on the left, but to hear the note of a robin on the right hand side was fortunate in the extreme ‘and if the dainty miromiro, “the bird-of-love,” alighted close to a person it signified that someone was willing loving thoughts in his direction and wishing him well. A certain kind of lizard was the most ominous sight of all, for it was the sign of death and only the services of an expert maker of incantations could avert the catastrophe.

When a person asserts that he has never experienced a serious illness or had an accident while driving you will often hear him quickly add the phrase, “Touch wood.” This reluctance to tempt Fate has its parallel among the Natives, who dislike even mentioning the game they hope to secure in case it may overhear and escape. Likewise, when searching in the forest for edible roots they never refer to them by their proper' name lest their labours prove unsuccessful. (Golfing enthusiasts and fishermen ought to be thankful such a prohibition does not apply to their activities, while as for victory gardeners, what would the poor souls do if they couldn’t boast about the size of their carrots or their remarkable potato crop!) The Maoris held no brief, either, for would-be houseowners who changed their minds“to excavate a house-site and then abandon it is extremely unlucky: we have wounded the Earth Mother without just cause.” Housewives accustomed to doing the family knitting and mending during the evenings will doubtless be surprised to learn that no wahine would dare to continue her weaving after the sun had setno chance of staying up a bit later than usual to finish her new skirt in time to wear at the tribal gathering on the morrow!

i The vogue for tikis and other mascots, . including the wearing of tiny animal charms on fobs and bracelets, has its fashionable counterpart among dwellers in the East, amulets being the most popular bestowers of good luck, while tigers’ claws and figures of gourds and unicorns ward off sick-

ness. Nearly every householder insures his family against misfortune by adorning doorposts and walls with the characters for longevity and happiness or fire, wind, and thunder written in black or vermilion on thin strips of paper. Sprays of peachblossom arranged near a bed give added protection to the sleeper. But should ill health befall despite all these precautions, then the paper charms must be burned and the ashes mixed with tea or water and swallowed by the patient. A very effective preventive of malingering among the young, I imagine!

I have sometimes wondered why it should be deemed any more unfortunate to break a mirror than a piece of a cherished dinner service, and I recently discovered that according to Chinese ideas it predicts a separation between husband and wife. And as a mirror hung above a doorway is the best way of keeping ghosts out (the spectre being so frightened by its own reflection, apparently, that it turns and runs) it is quite feasible that the breakage thereof may have dire consequences.

We throw salt over the right shoulder when it has been spilt accidentally; the eastern seamstress sprinkles it intentionally not only once, but thrice, over the new garment she is making. One of the methods of determining whether a girl will be a good needlewoman or not is to set a bowl of water to collect the dew on the night preceding the seventh day of the seventh month. At noon of the following day the aspirant drops a straw in the dish, and if the straw looks like a needle in the water then she is sure of becoming accomplished in the domestic arts.

Sneezing betokens not only the likelihood of a chill, but the additional calamity of scandal being spoken about the person sneezing. All those graceful pagodas and dragonroofs and half-moon bridges that so delight the traveller’s eye were not built in this style merely to gratify people’s aesthetic tastes —curves hinder the advance of unfavourable influences which would otherwise be greatly assisted by straight lines both in architecture and landscape.

The Chinese have their share of weather prophets, too, as evidenced by the following proverbs: —“When the tiger roars the wind rises”; “A stone lion is not afraid of rain”; “Lightning in the east fine weather; lightning in the —shower after shower; lightning in the —continuous rain; lightning in the north a gale from the south.” The latter item is rather like the current forecast whenever I make plans for a picnic!

Life used to be a leisurely affair in China, for they set aside a number

of days each month as being unlucky for any undertakings. On these dates “you must not start on a journey, change your dwelling-place, plant or sow, repair your house, or purchase landed property”—what an opportunity to take a holiday with a perfectly clear conscience. As a special concession to housewives they were advised not to scrape their saucepans on the Ist and 15th days of the month. It was also regarded as ill-omened to sing in bed (no ban on vocal per-

formances in the bath-tub, you’ll notice!) So whether you are superstitious or not, may I invoke for you the Chinese wish —May a hundred joys come all at once and a thousand good omens gather like clouds. May your old age be like the evergreen pine and its fragrance like the flower of the red camellia.”

"The Laughing Ghost" I WONDER how many readers know that the author of “The Laughing Ghost” is a New Zealander. Tall, slim, and attractive as one of her own heroines, Dorothy Eden has always possessed a distinct flair for storytelling and her work appears frequently in overseas magazines. Her first novel —a romance— the early colonising days in our own country as a setting, but in her new book she has chosen . the green countryside around one of England’s historic mansions for the major part of the action. Link together a jewel theft; the crafty machinations of a pair of criminals; smugglers and secret passages; an eccentric will involving the manorial estate; and last, but not least, a ghost that laughs, and you have some idea of the diversity of events encompassed by the plot.

Miss Eden is particularly skilful in conveying a sense of atmosphere. She depicts with rare charm the beauty of the vast, centuries-old home of Carstairs, with its lawns and fountains and quiet shrubberies, and her description of the dark, bat-haunted caverns leading from the cellars to the sea is so realistic that one can almost smell the mustiness of the dungeon where the lovely mistress of the manor was imprisoned nearly 200 years before, only to vanish mysteriously and become lost in the maze of winding passages. The macabre scene in the cave where the rising tide puts finis to the thieves and their plottings is most dramatic. A discovery concerning the lost Lady of Carstairs whose laughter echoes through the house beneath • which she perished, and the escape of the two principal characters from the same fate as befell the laughing Ghost make such exciting reading that the average person cannot bear to put the book down until the last page has been reached.

SUPERSTITION. Danger is the very basis of superstition. It produces a searching after help supernaturally when human means are no longer supposed to be available. R. Haydon.

"Straw® Dreams" DREAMS of disaster, of prophecy and warning; dreams of strange planets and peoples, and peculiar powers bestowed on the dreamershow I wish I could devote twice as much space to your accounts of the extraordinary experiences you have undergone while asleep. Many of these dreams foreshadowed actual happenings in real life, giving rise to all kinds of theories concerning the interpretation and significance of dreams. First prize goes to “Alix,” Wairoa, for her excellent treatment of the subject, and “M”, Feilding, and “Mrs. R. V. Winkle”, Oxford, tied for second place. Highly commended: “Golden Kowhai”, Katikati, and “Anon,” Dunedin.. '

First Prize THROUGHOUT the ages theories concerning the nature and origin of dreams have been advanced, from prophetic significance to a secret code as set forth in “dream books.” It was not until this century that a scientific method of interpretation . was set forth, based on psychological analysis of the mind of the dreamer, by Professor Sigmund Freud, of Vienna. This theory, now generally accepted, is that dreams represent in a distorted or disguised form the fulfilment , of wishes, desires, and urges that. are not acceptable to the conscious personality and are therefore buried in the subconscious. Some dreams appear in a distorted manner and are full of horror, some are pleasant, some vague and difficult to recall to memory on awakening. Others recur at frequent intervals over a period of years and it is this type of dream which I recall. There are three dreams which stand out vividly in my memory, not . because they are spectacular, but because they recur at frequent intervals -— always the same dream, the same setting and ending. For many years, at long intervals, I have had this dream. I am enclosed in a locked room with a spider, a huge, hideous spider the size of a bird, and like a bird, it can fly. Terrified, I try to escape it, and when the horrible thing has me almost paralysed with fright and has at last pounced upon me I always awake shaking with terror and glad to realise it was only a dream. A fright with a katipo spider as a child is probably the subconscious reason for this dream. The second is a pleasant dream, occurring every week or two. It has persisted since the wool shortage when I had vainly tried to procure some blue wool. Always in this dream I see fascinating window displays of coloured wools, shops and shops of them, and I flit from one to the other trying to decide which, shade I : shall

have, as there is never any blue to be seen. The purchase completed I wake —to reality and disappointment. Since actually purchasing some blue wool recently I have had no further dreams of wool displays. Number three is a dream I cannot fathom. The years roll back to 1930 and I have said good-bye to my sweetheart, who has gone back to his home town after having made the final arrangements for our marriage two weeks hence. I look in vain for a letter from him; days and weeks -go by— weeks turn into months and the months into years, and like Miss Ainslie in “Lavender and Old Lace,” I begin to realise that my lover is never coming back to me, and I put away my ring and prepare to face life as a disappointed old maid. Then I waken to the blessed realisation that he who seemed so fickle is quietly sleeping nearby, whilst under the same roof sleep the children born of our love. Probably a psycho-analyst could fathom the why and wherefore of this dream. I cannot. — Wairoa. Second Prize (equal) THIS account of a strange dream was told me by a friend. Her mother was the dreamer. It proved more than a mere dreamrather, a warning with the given answer. It happened in the early days of pioneering in bush country, when bush fires were more frequent and a very great danger. Mrs. B’s home was a tiny cottage in a clearing on a hill-top. One night she dreamed that the bush was afire and they were trapped in their frail house by the flames. She saw herself hopeless: the way of escape closed in too quickly to allow them to pass through. And then she thought of their precious tank brought in so carefully through the bush and not yet placed on its stand. She called her husband; they rolled their blankets round themselves and their baby, crawled into the tank, and pushed it

going. They had a hectic tossing till they reached the bottom of the hill, and safety. Mrs. B. awoke to the smell of smoke, and found the dream was a reality. For a moment she was helpless, then she remembered her dream —and the tank! “Well,” said my friend, “you know that the dream came true, because I was that baby!” “M”, Feilding. Second Prize (equal) NO, I had not read myself to sleep with the entertaining pages of H. G. Wells or Jules Verne, nor had I spent the day worrying about wartime shortages. Nevertheless, this is what I dreamed: our local branch of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union was having an excursion and a bus had been hired for the purpose. This marvellous vehicle travelled through time instead of space, so my temperate comrades and I paid flying visits to 1840 and 1900 and 1918, then dashed on to 1960 and 1999 a most exciting journey! But the most amusing part of the dream concerns our actions on arrival at each of our various stopping places. We dashed from the bus, rushed to the nearest house, made for a bedroom and rapidly proceeded to rifle the chest of drawers — for gold or jewels or even souvenirs; the prize was more valuable than that to us poor females of 1944. Have you guessed it? Yes! ELASTIC!— R. V. Winkle,” Oxford. Highly Commended DREAMS hold a special interest for me, for they have a remarkable way in our family of coming true at unexpected moments. I think this is the most interesting. It has really been a series of dreams, occurring before we receive news of a special friend with whom we have always kept in touch even when circumstances regulated us to mere correspondence. The dreams have happened only since the war began. Jack left for overseas in 1940. After receiving his farewell letter we had no news of him for some months, when his name appeared among the missing in the Greece and Crete campaign. It was then I dreamt we had a long letter from him written in green ink. Shortly afterwards he turned up, having escaped from Greece to Crete, where he was badly wounded. His long letter telling us of his safe return to Egypt duly arrived; it was written in pencil, but the censor’s name was scrawled in green ink. : He was in Syria when I next dreamt about him. I thought he’d been ill and with several other boys was coming out of an old concrete building with high windows. They seemed shabbily dressed but were going out into the sun to laze. After the N.Z,

Division joined the Eighth Army again in Egypt Jack was soon reported missing once more, and when news eventually came of him he was a prisoner of war in Italy. His first

lettercard stated that he had been ill, but was glad summer had come and was enjoying the sun. (Recently in the paper there appeared a picture of a p.o.w. camp the exact replica of the

concrete structure of my dreams.) The next dream was just a short flash of Jack silhouetted against the skyline, waving a mute farewell before he disappeared. After the collapse of Italy there was no trace of him and his name was not included in the list of prisoners transferred. Much later he turned up in Germany. For a long time I had no news from him—no dreams. This week the dream has come again: a clear picture of Jack home once more in New Zealand, very thin and weary looking but quite safe. Will you believe me when I add that since beginning this entry word has come from a most surprising and unexpected quarter that Jack was well and thrilled at receiving a letter from us, but he had been unable to

write. In this strange way dreams have revealed to us his safety.— “Golden Kowhai,” Katikati. THIS is one of the most beautiful dreams I have ever had. I seemed to be on a hillside, where I saw some beautiful blue flowers. And then I heard an orchestra playing wonderful music thought in the dream that it was Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, but I could not remember it when I was awake —and gradually I began to float through the air as though carried on the music. , I saw below me a wide, smooth, shining river, and I drifted along this into an inlet which widened into a big harbour and then the music faded away.“ Psyche,” Eastbourne. Highly Commended WHILE holidaying in my youth I met a young farmer, who became my constant attendant. When I was

going home he asked if he could call in a few weeks’ time, as he had something particular to ask me. However, weeks went by, and I heard nothing. I was worried, but decided, as the matter had been left to him, the best thing I could do was to try and forget. Then one night I had a very vivid dream. I dreamt I picked up the newspaper, and read his death —everything was there before my eyes, his full name, his age, his parents’ name and address. I wakened, crying bitterly. The dream seemed so strange that I told the girls with whom I worked about it. Later, from a mutual friend, I learned that my farmer friend was lying seriously ill in a country hospital. He had been taken away suddenly, soon after I had gone home. I thought I would write, but when going into work the next morning I found the other girls gathered in a heap reading the newspaper. They looked at me strangely, and one handed over the paper. There before my eyes with the print jumping up to meet me, was that death notice, word for word, as I had dreamed it. There is no explanation I can offer.— “Anon,” Dunedin. I AM one of those people who have “recurring dreams.” Mine are not exactly identical, but are always about stones lonely hut on a mountain, an exploration trip to the Arctic, a walk up the river, piles and piles of stones, the tranquillity of a great effort over and quiet peace. I always feel happy after one of my “stone” dreams. Not only superstitious people are interested in the meaning of dreams, but eminent scientists as well. —“Bee,” Timaru. STRANGE dreams are fearsome things. In my student days our psychology professor gave us a lecture on the study he had made of dreams. There is always a reason- for a strange dream. It may be something we have been thinking about or a passing scene that made little impression on the conscious mind, but a far greater impression on the subconscious. Inhibitions, frustrated hopes, frights, even those caused many years ago may all cause strange dreams. Recently I dreamed of people standing in a ring and throwing a ball to one another. Each of those to whom the ball was thrown was a friend or relative who had died within the last few years. A school friend who had lost her little son under tragic circumstances had been in my thoughts, a lot, and that accounted for the dream. “Haruru,” Kaukapakapa. I HAVE proved that if I dream of a lost engagement or wedding ring it always heralds a sudden bereavement in our family circle.— “ Pal,” Motukarara.

1 DREAMED I was standing on a stone platform and as I gazed about I saw dozens of winding stairways leading up into the mountains which I could see only dimly because of the mists. Presently I heard the sound of weird music and as the mists began to vanish I looked up towards the mountains. I longed to run away, but when I tried to move I found my legs had turned to stone. Strange shapes now began to descend the staircases and now I saw that they were hundreds of little dwarfs dressed in long, flowing robes. They had no hair at all and most of them carried large sunshades and sang loudly. At length the first little man on each staircase reached the bottom and seemingly from nowhere came hundreds of turtles. The dwarfs climbed on to their backs and were carried away to an opening in the mountains. I longed to reach that hole to find out where the turtles and their riders vanished to, and by some miracle my legs suddenly changed back from stone. I entered the mountain and saw a large crater in front of me. Unable to stop I went hurtling forward into it. Then with a bump I awoke and found myself lying on the floor beside my bed! “Land Girl,” Invercargill. IONCE had a brief, startling dream which was connected with a tragic happening. It was after a picnic on a perfect summer’s day. Among the group, was a young fellow full of

gaiety and quite the life of the party. We all called him “Andy.” That night I went to bed and dreamed I was out on the hills again, but alone. I seemed to be searching so desperately for someone, and then I found “Andy,” the happy boy of our picnic party, lying strangely still. I called, but he wouldn’t answer and as I looked down I saw I was holding bright red flowers in my hands. I laid these beside him —and then I woke up. I could not put that dream out of my mind, much as I tried. Several days later “Andy” was drowned. In my grief I went into the garden for flowers to make a wreath: the only flowers I could find in sufficient quantity were small red — “Anne,” Christchurch. WHEN I was a schoolgirl I had a rather uncanny gift for painfully real dreams. I was at boarding-school in Melbourne at the time and my younger sisters had a governess at home. We lived on the border of New South Wales, where my father had a big sheep and cattle station. One night at school I dreamed that the children and the governess were about to begin morning lessons in the schoolroom when for some reason they elected to study in the diningroom. In my dream I saw them change rooms. They had barely commenced lessons when there was a tremendous crash and they found, that the schoolroom chimney had suddenly collapsed. and fallen through the old roof on to the very spot where they had been sitting near the fireplace. Two or three days later I had a letter from home describing this catastrophe in detail and the narrow escape of the children and the governess, exactly as I had seen it in my dream. Did I, perhaps, play an unconscious part in their escape? Was I really there in. my dream, the unseen agent who made them move in time?— “Sue,” Auckland.

Oat in th© dark Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee; And the Elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. No Will-o’-the-Wisp mis-light thee; Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee: But on, on thy way Nor making a stay, Since ghost there’s none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber; What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear without number.

PAINS and PILLS

Sometimes a pill is a mighty good thing for stopping a pain. At other times it’s anything but the right thing. And that goes also for any other form of medicine or drugs. One of the time-honoured remedies for pains and aches and upsets in the abdomen is the taking of a laxative. This may be all right, but on the other hand it may easily be all wrong. Risks with Laxatives What is the most important thing from the patient’s point of view is -the real cause of the trouble. Unless the cause is quite. obvious, no one but a doctor can detect the reason for the complaint. Appendicitis is a case in point. People who give laxatives to relieve suspicious pain in the abdomen are asking for trouble for the patient, no matter how well-intentioned they may be. Experience has shown that laxatives given at the onset of a case of appendicitis enormously increase the risk of this disease. Let’s look at some figures in this connection. Among a certain group of 1394 patients whose histories were complete it was found that 402 took ho laxatives prior to surgical treatment, while 992 took one or more doses of laxatives prior to surgical treatment. Of those who took no laxatives only one in 80 died as a result of illness; of those who did take laxatives one in 13 died; and for those who took multiple doses the death-rate was one in 7. These are actual facts and figures recorded in England, and, more than any amount of talking could do, they bring home the danger of using laxatives when appendicitis bains are suspected. Guesswork Won’t Do The experience gives tragic emphasis to the danger of self-diagnosis and self-prescribing. And it doesn’t apply only to appendicitis. The layman has to remember that doctors are far more skilful and qualified than ever before to diagnose and prescribe treatment for human ailments. Non-medical persons lack both the training , and the experience a diagnosis or a prescription by a non-medically trained person is merely guesswork. And when it comes to looking after the health of our people guesswork simply won’t do. Some diseases lend themselves too readily to self-diagnosis and delay in proper treatment. Diphtheria is one of them. A sore throat— of the symptoms of diphtheria—is easy to neglect and dismiss as insignificant. If. the guess happens to be right, the whole thing is forgotten. But mistakes are costly. Very few patients fail to recover from diphtheria if anti-toxin is given on the first or second day after

Contributed by the Department of Health

onset. Studies have shown that in two-thirds of the fatal cases of diphtheria the doctor has not been called until the third day or later. Delays Dangerous Another disease that goes from, bad to worse because of false diagnosis and improper treatment is tuberculosis. Early symptoms of tuberculosis have been well publicised in this country in the last few years, and people who ignore them have only themselves to blame for whatever consequences may develop. Again, syphilis may be cured by prompt diagnosis and adequate treatment, but delay makes complete recovery doubtful and reduces the value of any treatment. These illustrations could be multiplied, but enough have, been quoted to emphasise the importance of skilled medical attention when health problems crop up. Through vaccination, immunisation, proper dietary habits, proper sanitation, and hygiene a whole host of diseases can be prevented. Call the Doctor In spite of these things, however, acute illnesses arise from time to time. When they do get a skilled medical man in. If you don’t you’re taking chances with a very valuable life. The same thing applies whenever a person’s health gives any cause for sus-picion-call the doctor. Don’t try and do his job yourself.

Thoughts for ' the Quiet Hour Is your cruse of comfort waning? Rise and: share it with another. . . . Seldom need the heart be lonely, If it seek a lonelier still. Self forgetting, seeking always Some more empty cup to fill. From “DEB”, OXFORD. “Do to-day’s duty, fight to-day’s temptation; do not weaken and distract yourself by looking forward to things which you cannot see and could not understand if you saw — Charles Kingsley. —From “KAHIKATEA,” MARTON. When you are blue, Find something to do For somebody else Who is bluer than you. (Motto on a Wayside Pulpit.) —From “HOMESPUN,” OROUA. Sing a little, work a little, Whistle and be gay, Read a little, laugh a little, Busy all the day. Talk a little, play a little, Don’t forget to pray, Bea bit of merry sunshine All the blessed day. —From “EFFIE,” MURCHISON. “Meanwhile if these hours be dark at least do not let us sit . . . beaten by the muddle; but rather let us work like good fellows trying by some dim candlelight to set our workshops ready against tomorrow’s daylight.” William Morris. —From “ROUNDABOUT,” K.C. “When a bit of sunshine hits you, After passing of a cloud, And a fit of laughter gets you And your soul is feeling proud, Don’t forget to up and sling it At a soul who's feeling blue, For the minute that you fling it, It's a boomerang to you.” —“M”, FEILDING. : Rainbow at night .. ' Is the sailor’s delight; Rainbow in the morning, Sailors, take: warning. Rhyme for a Fireplace >, Stranger, now no more unknown, Let my comfort be your own. Friend, for whom my dwelling stands, Take your joy from both my hands. Love, for whom my hearth logs shine, Fill your heart with peace from mine. God, to Whom we make our prayer Keep us warm within Thy care. —DOROTHY KISSLING.

Notions for Nutcrack Night

NUTS and vegetables play a prominent part in the Welsh celebrations of Nutcrack Night, as Hallowe’en is often called. Yorkshire folk give seed cake pride of place on their tea tables, and in other parts oi England apples form the main ingredients of so many dishes that the eve of. October 31 is referred to as Snap-apple Night. So if you wish to follow the old customs, be sure io feature some of these items on your menu—tarts filled with mincemeat or orange, apple cake, pumpkin pie, nutsprinkled sponges, and apples and carrots dipped in toffee. Use your ingenuity to conjure up new ways of presenting your favourite biscuit recipes: cheese straws can be cut to resemble broomsticks, for instance; horse-shoe shapes made of chocolate shortbread would bring any one good luck, as would marshmallow squares topped with -leaf clovers. Fill a black bowl with fruit and nuts for a centre-piece and dress your small daughter’s doll as a witch to . preside over it. Set out your gayest china, and mark each guest’s place with initials of apple peel and the scene is all set for the j oiliest Hallowe’en supper ever! APPLE CAKE. 2 cups flour, 1 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, J teaspoon nutmeg, Ij teaspoons baking soda, -J cup sultanas, loz. chopped lemon peel, lj cups stewed apple, 2oz. butter. Sift the flour and baking soda,. and add the sugar, spices, and fruit, except the apples. Heat the apples and melt the butter with them, then mix well with the other ingredients. Pour into a . cake tin lined with greased paper. Bake in a moderate oven for Is hours. This cake is better kept for a few days before cutting. MINCE PIES. Boz. pastry. Jib. . apples (net weight when peeled and minced), Jib. brown sugar, Jib. sultanas, . lib. currants, . J lemon (rind and juice), J teaspoon cinnamon, J teaspoon ground ginger. Cut the pastry into rounds and line patty tins. Mix the fruit, sugar, and spices well together, and fill each patty tin, then cover with a round of pastry. Bake in a hot oven 10-15 minutes. ORANGE TART. 6oz. short pastry. loz. butter, 2oz. sugar, loz. custard powder, 1 egg, 2 teaspoons orange crystals, J teaspoon essence of lemon. . ,

Roll out three-quarters of the pastry and line a pie-plate. Melt the butter, add the sugar and custard powder mixed with a little water, and bring to the boil, stirring all the while. Then add the egg lightly beaten and let the mixture cook for . one minute without boiling. Finally add the orange crystals and lemon flavouring. Pour this into the tart and decorate with strips of the remaining pastry rolled out thinly and placed latticewise over the orange filling. Bake in a moderate oven for 20 minutes. DOUGHNUTS. 1 egg, 3 tablespoons sugar, 3 tablespoons milk, 1 tablespoon butter, 1 cup

flour,. 1| teaspoons baking powder, | teaspoon salt, fat for frying, a little grated lemon or orange rind. Beat the egg well, then add the sugar and grated lemon or orange rind and continue beating till thick and spongey. Stir in the butter (melted) and the milk, then sift the flour, baking powder, and salt into the mixture and beat lightly. . Drop teaspoonfuls into hot, deep fat and cook till nicely brown. Drain well and dip in icing sugar. (This recipe makes a dozen doughnuts). ARROWROOT SPONGE. 3 eggs, i cup sugar, J cup arrowroot, J teaspoon baking powder, pinch salt. Sift the arrowroot, baking powder, and salt three times. Beat the eggs and sugar till stiff, then add the arrow-

root, etc., and beat for 10 minutes. Pour into two Bin. sandwich tins (ungreased). Bake in a moderate oven for 20 minutes. When cool ice and fill as desired. To convert this recipe into a coffee sponge add 1 dessertspoon of coffee essence to the mixture before baking, and use a butter icing flavoured with vanilla for a filling, and coffee icing and walnuts on top. To make a jam roll cook the sponge in a shallow, oblong-shaped tin or a meat-dish. A cinnamon sponge requires these additional ingredients: 2 tablespoons flour, 1 teaspoon ground ginger, 1 teaspoon cinnamon, and 1 teaspoon cocoa. Lastly, fold in 1 tablespoon golden syrup. Grease the sandwich tins before pouring in the mixture. When cooked decorate with chocolate icing and raisins. (Sent in by “Biddi-Jan.”) SEED CAKE. 9oz. flour, 7oz. sugar, lj teaspoons baking powder, 3oz. butter, 3oz. beef dripping, 4 eggs (or 3 eggs and 1 tablespoon milk), 1 tablespoon caraway seeds (or caraway essence if preferred). Cream the butter, dripping, and sugar together, then add the eggs, beating in one by one. Lastly add the flour and baking powder sifted together, then the caraway seeds or essence. Bake in a moderate oven for an hour. BROOMSTICKS. 2 cups flour, i teaspoon baking powder, j teaspoon salt (use J teaspoon salt and J teaspoon celery salt if you have it), 2oz. butter, loz. lard, 3oz. grated cheese, cayenne pepper sufficient to cover 3d. Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt. Rub in the lard and butter, then add the cheese and cayenne. Mix to a stiff dough with water and roll out on a floured board. Cut into broomstick shapes and bake in a moderate oven for 15 minutes. FOUR-LEAF CLOVERS. , 3oz. butter, 4oz. sugar, 1 egg, 1-j cups flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder. Marshmallow: 2 dessertspoons gelatine, 1 cup water, 1 cup sugar. Green jubes. Cream the butter and sugar, add the egg and the dry ' ingredients sifted. Roll out to a Jin. in thickness, cut into several sections, and bake 15-20 minutes. To make the marshmallow boil the gelatine, sugar, and water together for 8 minutes. Allow to cool and then beat with a rotary beater till white and thick. Spread over the shortbread. Then cut the shortbread into squares and on each one make a pattern of four-leaf clovers with thin slices of green jubes.

PUMPKIN PIE. 1£ cups cooked mashed pumpkin, j cup sugar, ’1 . teaspoon cinnamon, J teaspoon ground ginger, eggs, 2 cups milk, pie shell (short pastry). : Line a pie plate with short pastry and crinkle the edges. Now mix the sugar, cinnamon, ginger, and pumpkin together, and stir in the eggs lightly beaten and the milk. Pour into the pie shell and bake in a hot oven for a quarter of an hour till the crust edges brown and then reduce the heat to a moderate temperature and continue baking for J hour.

TOFFEE APPLES. 2 cups sugar, 2 tablespoons vinegar, 2 tablespoons water, apples. Bring sugar, vinegar and water to the boil and boil fast for i hour. Do not stir while boiling. A little dropped in cold water should set hard. Dip the apples (which have previously been mounted on sticks) into the toffee and place on a buttered plate to set. Do not let the apples touch each other, as the toffee will crack when you separate them. This recipe is sufficient to cover 6 medium-sized apples.

JOURNEY BY NIGHT. The Great Bear points to the north-east; How white the fields stretch and how vast, Lying a foot deep in crisp snow! It’s cold and I have no cloak; In the night the candle dies; Ghost-fires flicker in the dark; Sprites show a foot, And then jump, groaning, to my side. Though not afraid, I loathe their malformed ugliness, And when the dawn breeze comes to help I’ll yoke my horse and make for home. —Sung Li-shang.

[€Jhost| Story HERE is a Ghost Story guaranteed to create a really spooky atmossphere at any Hallowe’en party. The audience should sit on the floor in a semi-circle, and when the lights have been dimmed the Ghost (suitably hooded and attired in flowing white draperies) recites his tale in a hollow voice and hands the various relics to the person on his left who, in turn, passes them to the next player, and so on, till everyone has touched the departed one’s remains. The narrative runs thus:

Two Poems from the Chinese Up and up winds the mountain road— Where does it end? Down and down runs a chattering brook As I ascend. Through leaves’ crisp rustle in the wind A dog barks loud; I see the smoke of a pine-wood fire Against a cloud. I rise and dress and wait to greet the moon, A waning moon, that rises late to-night. Slowly she creeps above the rugged hill, And touches first the tree-tops with her light; The golden wavelets shiver in their sleep; Faint and more tenuous flows heaven’s silver stream. I linger till Orion’s stars have set, Then sleep again, and see it still, in dream.

Competitions NOVEMBER. The closing date for descriptions of “A Memorable Christmas” is November 15. DECEMBER. New Year’s Evethe time when we review the year that has passed and look forward to the new one now approaching. There are few of us who do not feel some measure of regret for the opportunities we have wasted, our foolish mistakes and inadequacies, and as our thoughts turn to the days ahead the desire for a worthier future is resurgent in every heart like a phoenix rising from the ashes. • How are we planning to equip ourselves for the tasks to come? “RESOLUTIONS FOR THE NEW YEAR.” First prize, 10/-, second prize, 5/-. Last day for entries, December 15. “MARY,” C/o “Journal of Agriculture,” P.O. Box 3004, Wellington. ItltlHtHlllltltllllltillHllinillllllllllHlllllllllllllltlllllllHHllltl

LIGHT . : So many of us fear the dark; Yet one small candle in a room . . . Alters things so that it . appears \ Relieved; of gloom. . ? Life’s darkness alters when we find . . The light of friendship, and for me All fears were gone when your love lit My world for me. GOOD FORTUNE. Diligence is the mother of good fortune. — in “Don Quixote.” FATE. ' j Fate is character. ■ —Winter.

Weight Spoon Measure Cocoa 1 oz. - 2 2 level tablespoons Custard powder 1 oz. - 2 2 level tablespoons Dried beans 1 oz. = 1 1 level tablespoon Dried milk 1 oz. - 2J level tablespoons 2j level tablespoons Flour 1 oz. =2 2 level tablespoons Lentils 1 oz. = 1 1 level tablespoon Mashed potato .. 1 oz. -- 1 1 level tablespoon Oatmeal 1 oz. -- 2 2 level tablespoons , Rolled oats 1 oz. = 4 4 level tablespoons 1 Syrup and treacle 1 oz. - 2 2 level tablespoons / Sugar ... 1 oz. = 1 i level tablespoons I 1J level tablespoons 1