PETER THE WHALER

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 11, Issue 59, 28 July 1947, Page 6

PETER THE WHALER

What ho, what ho, ma hearties! Well here we are again. Well I spent a great deal of time trying to think out a competition for you as I promised you one last week. I finally decided on the one you will see below. I hope you like it. It is very nice to see the sun again after all the rain we have had but with the cold mornings I’m afraid we on Whale Island have been lying in rather long. The sea looks lovely after a cold morning though don’t you think? I often go down to have a look at the Good Endeavour as she lies in the green water looking so fresh as though she were ready for a long trip to a distant land. Well I’m afraid that I will have to close this letter and send it across to the Beacon Office or it will never get into Monday’s paper. Ch.eerio until next week, P.T.W. OUR COMPETITION

After a ’great deal of thinking I have come to the conclusion that this week I -tfdll give you a story competition as you seem to like them very much. Write a story about

anything you wish, not too long and not too short and send it in before the Thursday after next. That should give you plenty of time to put on your thinking caps. Here’s helping for lots of entries. P.T.W. OUR STORY PETER PARROT Billy Hawkins was very happy as he walked into the pet shop. Today his dreams were going to come true. Mother had given him permission to buy any pet he wanted. He had saved for a long time so that he would be able to buy one.

“Oh,” he whispered to himself, “I never knew there were so many pets in the shop. There are only puppies in the window.” He walked slowly past the pen where the puppies were kept, then past the place where the kittens nestled. Then he walked to the back of the shop where there was a cage with a monkey in it. “Flibbertigibbets,” he exclaimed. How would he ever be able to pick out one when they were all so wonderful.

“Flibbertigibbets!” came an answer. “Flibbertigibbets!” Billy looked up. There sat a saucy parrot in a red cage. The bird cocked his head to one side and sang out again, “Flibbertigibbets!” “That’s the pet I want,” Billy called out excitedly, “he even talks like I do. Oh, this is my lucky day!” Billy was very happy as he walked home. He could hardly wait to show his Mother his pet. “I guess I will have to give you a name,” he said. “The man called you Polly, but I like Peter much better. From now on your name is Peter. Peter Parrot.”

“Peter Parrot,” called the bird. “Peter Parrot.” He sounded very satisfied with his name.

This made Billy so proud that he decided to show him to Mrs Pennington, who lived close by. She was very old and spent most of her time sitting in the big chair by the window! Billy often ran errands for her. Sometimes he would sit and talk to her because she was so lonely. This ought to cheer her up he thought and was glad he stopped. “I’ve a surprise for you,” he shouted. Mrs Pennington was delighted. Her blue eyes twinkled when he held the cage before her. “Oh! You brought this lovely bird for me. Now I’ll never be lonely again!” she exclaimed. Billy was stunned. Mrs Pennington had misunderstood him. She thought the parrot was for her. She did not know it was his new pet. She looked so happy that he could not tell her. He dropped the cage into her lap and ran out the door as fast as he could run. He finally reached home, and ran up to his room. He knew it would be a long time before he could get another pet and it wouldn’t be the same. Peter and he understood each other. “Boys don’t cry,” he remembered and wiped his wet face.

He thought he could still hear Peter’s shrill call, but it could not be so, for the parrot was inside the house down the street. It was probably his, imagination. No! There it was again! He ran out on the porch and in front of his house, perched on the only tree in the block, he saw Peter. Mrs Pennington must have opened the cage and his pet had come back to him. He climbed the tree and brought the bird down. “You’ve come back to me,” he said. Then he remembered. He had given the bird to Mrs Pennington. It still belonged to her and he must return it. As he entered the room, she smiled at him.

■“I knew you’d bring him back, Billy, but he isn’t happy here. He wants to be with you. You keep him and bring him whenever you come to visit me. That way we can all be happy.’ “Thank you! Thank you very much!” he cried as he ran over and gave her a great big hug. Mrs Pennington smiled again. “Thank you,” echoed the bird. Billy looked at him and laughed. “My pal, Peter Parrot.” THE MULTI-TOOTHED SNAIL The snail may not be the swiftest of all creatures, nor the most beautiful but it is certainly one of the most versatile of all the thousands of living organisms on this earth. Perhaps the most amazing feat that the snail can perform is the trick of crawling over the cutting edge of a razor blade without injuring itself. It is able to do this because of a mucous excretion which envelops its body, and especially its gliding surface, at all times, and because of the softness of its body. This mucous acts as a lubrication over which the snail easily moves along. Snails are able to adapt themselves to many changes in temperatures, and have even been known to stay alive in temperatures of 120 degrees below zero.