and a rosy future was predicted as, one by one, parents of all potential pupils were duly contacted, with usually the same response: “Oh yes! It's a jolly good idea, but I'm sure my Petsy and Swanee will be far too shy to attend.” But “teacher” not to be easily daunted, contrived a way of overcoming this difficulty. Had she not nine children of her own? Had she not noticed, when passing in her dilapidated old truck— “Bluebird” —how the tiny tots waved and screeched with glee? To be sure! Here was the solution to all the shyness! Here was adventure, as she sallied forth in “Bluebird” with her own lusty five-year old son and his two sturdy pals from neighbours on either side of her, who were given leave to sing and yell as much as they wished, as they rattled down the road to the first port of call. There, two little ones were all combed and ready, as mother had been warned by phone. The three little leaders do their part gallantly as they issue loud invitations to “Come for a ride!” whereat the newcomers are promptly deposited onto “Bluebird” with “teacher” taking no apparent notice. So they rattle on to the next port of call, to repeat the process, then the return journey, and a call at the school for isn't the head teacher always helpful? A quick explanation and request for help and guidance gladly given, an appeal for any “discarded blackboards” and odd coloured chalks for a start, and on the way again. Home reached, happy games of ball, ring-a-ring-a-rosy, etc., then hand-washing drill, then sitting up around the table to sing “grace” and enjoy lunch with lots of happy chatter. Then a huge pile of old “Exporters” and “Agriculture” magazines were produced, and three pairs of scissors, and so followed a happy hour of cutting out, with now and again loud demands of “this is my chooky” or “this is my tractor”. Then the books were packed up and all cuttings put into a box for later use, and out they ran for a game of ball and races. Then the coloured chalk is produced and the pieces of blackboard, and “teacher” draws a lovely fat cat, and little eyes goggle at such a clever “teacher”. Then all are encoureged to “try their hand,” and incidentally, many cats were to find their way onto doors and walls at home, as mother was confronted with a decisive “I can make a cat”. Then a walk down to the calf-pen to see the young ‘mooloos” and a sing-song round the piano until the arrival of the “primaries” announced that it was “home time”. And so a quick face and hand wash and scrambling onto “Bluebird” with the group increased by all the nearby “primaries” screeching and yelling as the “school bus” delivers its cargo, after which “teacher” dashes home to prepare a late tea and gather up all the bits and pieces, smiling happily at the success of her first “kindy” day. There have been many such happy days, all much alike. With a roll of ten, our little “Kindy” has a bright future. They are all a bright little band and how they love “kindy”. It's well worth all the effort, and our league members are very keen on the projector. When crutching time came along the men's smoko and dinner were delivered to the shed by “teacher” on “Bluebird”, all complete with “Kindy”. This is enough fun to make any little heart flutter. Trips to the creek to see the frogs go “plock plock” and to be allowed to drop pebbles into the water are such fun. Everyone is made to feel “wanted” and kept occupied at the usual routine, with a rest period, which was kindly advised by an ex-kindergarten teacher who was visiting our head master and came along to visit us. Three of our group have come of age, and gone off to primary school and there are still some more to join in and there are lots of difficulties, but we are not going to worry—we have a “kindy” and we did it all ourselves and we're happy! Little lives can be moulded and prepared for their part in the great game of life. When the time comes, we may apply for departmental aid, but we will have the satisfaction of knowing that we helped ourselves, and we did all the spade work on our own initiative. We are treating each child according to its own nature; some are bright, others gentle, sensitive reticent or shy. There is also Sammy, the saddest case of all—for he is deaf and dumb. But he is not unhappy—far from it. He claims “teacher's” special attention, and gets it, too, and the others are taught to love and consider him always. His only remark is “goo goo!” for everything, but does he love “kindy”? I'll say he does! So come along you league women! Open up your hearts and say “Let's have a kindergarten!”