GOODBYE

Dominion, Volume 28, Issue 98, 19 January 1935, Page 23

GOODBYE

This new year of ours is bringing lots of happiness, lots of new experiences. Another year of “growing up. Ihe Junior Dominion” is growing up too, or at least, part of it; and so this week we arc saying good-bye to “Excelsior Elf" who has helped so tremendously with thc page during her long membership You all know her delightful poems—their winsomeness, their fresh charm and, above all, their originality. She has that great gift of expression that I am always wishing into all of you hard. . * ~ _ Here is her farewell letter to the “League.” Let's send off an enormous wish of good luck to her, and slip in another wish that she will not be too busy to write to us sometimes.

Dear Kiwi, I’ve been so happy m my share in the “Junior Dominion.” I can stJi remember the thrilling time when my first little essay was printed, winning a competition; and my first letter. Iye saved up ever so many “Junior Dominions,” nearly all the ones that had anything of mine in them and severa that didn’t. One day I decided I had far too many of them, so I started to sort them out, too see which ones I could burn, but they were all so dear, with their “original” stories and poems and their pretty, quaint drawings, taut I had to keep them all. We've had some splendidly enthusiastic people in the “League," haven’t we? Lots of those I remember have passed the age-limit now, but there are always new enthusiasts, and just lately there have been several new names connected witn splendid work. This year I shall be going away to Christchurch probably and I don’t expect I’ll see the page, but when I come home I shall still look for it always on Saturday. I’m afraid I haven’t done as much for the page this year as I should have done, Kiwi, so I’m sending you some last verses. I meant to send a story too, but I’m afraid it’s too late. The “Junior Dominion” has meant more to me than just the joy of contributing to the page; it has made friends for me—penfriends whose letters I treasure. All the League members area friendly crew, and I feel that I know many more of them than those who write to me—stories and verses and fragments of letters published have shown me many people I should like to meet. Perhaps I shall meet some of them one day! What fun to discover that anyone I meet Is an old League member. Wouldn t there be a wagging of tongues! . , Kiwi, it’s quite late now, but its not quite dark outside, and I can see a crooked post in the next-door neighbour’s house that looks just like the long neck dnd head of a moa, with an open beak; and just below the beak is a large lump that looks like an Adam’s apple! It should really have been a kiwi, shouldn’t it? Beyond it is a little stretch of pale green sky, dusked with grey cloud. And now, good-bye, Kiwi—officially at least, though I shall probably send an unexpected letter sometimes! I m ory to say good-bye, but it needs must be; and so I wish you and the League the very best of New Years —for 1935 and all other years. May our' page have loyal supporters always and continue to be one of the best of children s pages in New Zealand.—Your very sincere League member. “EXCELSIOR ELF,” Hawera.

A POET’S TOYS The town of St. Louis in /Missouri (U.S.A.) woke up a short time ago to find that the house tyhere Eugene Field was born in 1850 was in danger of destruction. A fund was started, and all the people of St. Louis subscribed till enough was collected to buy the house; and now the children of America are giving their pennies to have the house repaired and make to look as it did when this children’s poet was a child himself, when he sailed in his cot with Wynken, Blynken and Nod, and set out his toys on the nursery chair. • There are going to be toys in his nursery again, and they will stand as did the toy dog and soldier of his Little Boy Blue, when he kissed them Goodnight and toddled off to bed and never woke from his dreams if them. Aye, faithful io Little Boy Blue they stand, Each in the selfsame place, Awaiting the touch of a little hand, The smile of a little face; And they wonder, as waiting the long years through Tn the dust of that tiny chair, What has become of our Little Boy Blue Since he hissed them and put them there.