—“E putiputi koe.” He liked it but couldn't quite remember it—a long time since those days—and now he was half asleep and half awake—dreaming and thinking at the same time. Boy was a bit tired the next morning—hadn't slept too well. When Charlie woke up he told him all about a funny dream he had. “I was standing on a hill. Had a real flash outfit on—orange coat and black pants—looked deadly too. Some fullas were in a paddock below weeding mangols. I recognised one of the kids—a cousin of mine—and waved out. He waved back and yelled out, the others looked up and waved; one was Aunty Katie and she called out for me to go down. While I was running towards them, them all started laughing and pointing at me. I stopped but they kept laughing and moving back as if something was wrong with me. When I moved towards them again they laughed even louder and went further away. “Shut up!” I yelled—no use—they couldn't hear me. Then I got kind of panicky and ran down to the beach while they followed me like dogs after a pig. I threw sand at them but they still laughed. I took off my shoes and threw them, then my socks and coat and short till I had nothing on. They stopped laughing now and just looked. Next minute someone threw me an old pair of trousers—no knees in them and all ripped at the cuffs but I put them on. You know, as soon as I had them on I was okay. I felt like a kid again and laughed as I ran towards them. They slapped me on the back and kissed me and made a real fuss. We all laughed now and walked down to the sea trampling my new clothes into the sand. Must have woken up then. Real queer dream but sorta' real all the same. “Sounds like a bit of a nightmare to me. Dreams are strange. I have some silly ones some nights, especially when I'm not too well. Best to forget them.” That morning Charlie was due for his operation—gallstones or something—he didn't seem to be too sure himself what was going to happen but he was cheerful when he had gone down the corridor to the theatre. Boy said he would have been scared stiff but maybe he just didn't have as much confidence in doctors and nurses as an old veteran like Charlie did. Boy spent the rest of the day trying to write a letter home but was having a bit of trouble. Seemed to be no news. He told them he was going back as soon as he was out of hospital. He had almost forgotten his mates in town, the big rock n' roll jamboree he had wanted to see was in the background and he had one desire—to go home.

Makee te weka i te mahanga e hoki ano? (Once a weka has escaped a snare, would it go back to it again?) It's very easy to fritter your money away—you can't think where it's gone to—but like the escaped weka—you can be sure you won't see it again. It's never easy to save—but there is ONE SURE WAY. JOIN A THRIFT CLUB WHERE YOU WORK … and the saving is done for you. Any amount you decide you can afford is then painlessly subtracted from your weekly wage. It soon mounts up—and earns interest too—and you'll find that when you want money for larger expenses such as holidays, clothes, sports, etc…. the money is there when you most need it—you can withdraw it whenever you want to. Just arrange with your employer to deduct a fixed amount from your pay each week. Join the Post Office Thrift Club where you work AND WATCH YOUR SAVINGS GROW! Issued by the New Zealand Savings Committee