OUR RING TO-NIGHT

Evening Post, Volume CVIII, Issue 138, 7 December 1929, Page 22

OUR RING TO-NIGHT

Princess Spring. Scatoun.—Nice of you. dear one. How did you guess that I have been looking. . „ and looking. . . inside all tlie envelopes and all the letters for just such things as you sent f Everybody wants to bo an author nowadays, and nobody a cook . . . butv:i know which Is needed most around Christmas-time—don't you? "Oranne Blossom." Potone.—So you need not bo disappointed after all, chlldie. It is your very-ilrst letter, Isn't it. . . or at any rate, it is'tho first ono from Orange Blossom. I don't wonder, you could not find it—there is nothing quite so unsettling as changing houses, is there? "Fleecy Clouds," Lowor Hutt.—And you feel so heart-sore .for the : \yec, shivering thing . . . and there is nothing' you can do for it. ;-Buf you- brought life .back to it, ■ clever one. -. ■•■, '.and .it isn't very often than they live, you Know. "Jonquil," Wellington.—Chlldie, if you can send those little things so carefully, why not something of your very own, next time? Those are good . . . but something made by. Jonquil would bo far, far better. Try, little one. "Queen Joyce," Petone.—The Queen commands 1 I loved your small letter, written for all tho royal family, Joyce child ... . and I shall bo looking for more from you.. "Princess June," Petone.—You, too, dear heart ami great bis welcomo to you. Can seven years old (but eight next July) write a letter too, I wonder? . .. King Raymond, Petone.—What a. tiny mushroom I shall have to find for you, young one!. Or do you think a very largo one with a step-ladder, in case we lose you altogether 1 . . . That would be terrible, wouldn't it? - • "Wendy," Wellington.—Aud now you will be able to read it from start to flnish ... if the exams ard over, 'Wendy. Such worrying things, aren't they . . . Poor, poor front garden 1 Is there a curce upon it, do you think? . . . or aro my lady flowers too particular? They can: be just spoilt children, sometimes. Eunice Haden, Lower Hurt.—Being - unknown : . . . there is a charm about it, isn't there, Kirlecn? To rub shoulders with people whoso faces are turned the other way. but who might be Fairy King, for all you know ...it is all tremendously- exciting I Carlien Cox, Goldie's Brae.—Yes, I do like the satin gold of buttercups . . . and they always give my secrets away I But I onco knew a ' man . . . and he ate pounds of butter ... but they wouldn't work on him because ho had a beard 1 Wasn't that unfair? June Wilson, Lower Hutt.—Nicely done, chtldie. But no letter?... . . I "looked in vain insido your small envelope. Dorothy Alexander, Kilbirnie.—But dear one the painting is one, isn't it?- I mean, you all do your :level best, and sometimes it is just a problem to decide which is really the loveliest. Did you want something harder? "Sunset Mist," Lower Hutt.—Of course you want to bo. first . . . everyone does But truly your poetry Is better than your painting yet, little one—far, far better. The ilrst verso is magical.; but the other two . . . just. '■'. . . tall . . . off! ' . Dorothy Jourdain, Kilbirnio.—l looked to see if I could see a letter from you, Dorothy Alas I The manuscript was barel There wasn't any letter there! "Hinoraoa." Khandallah.—l don't think I love you a little bit, llinemoa! I had your own (special story all ready to give to you in the King, and—you - know it already! Wasn't lhat unkind? I think I'll call you something really terrible, like Topocatapclyl, and then you'll have to ask me for tiie story I . Rippling Wfitcr. Lower Hutt.—Little one I'm so sorry . 1 .' if is just horrid to 'have to lie on .rour back all. day. And when there are cay noises outside, and tho sound of children playing—well, it's worse, isn't it? You will Just-have-to get-bettor quick! Bina- Charleswofth,' Lower Hutt Ye 3 - just lovely, isn't.it?. . . A-little, answer to a. very little-letter I-,, ... "Dorothy,", Weilington.^l think wo will have to wish our.mcnrfoik back into IS2O, child. It would be-so casy-to find something then— a periwig, or-laco;ru(Tle3,. or new buckles for his shoes! And ; .-.what fun choosing them tool-... . ...But why not your.pen-name? "Winnie-The-Pooh," v Roseneath.—"He sings Sould X g nk t.l iCe" 0V" "■ V: ; ICSt "°» ■y^'S'iS^' One-of the ones that "White Star," Lower Hutt—But we are Interested! Is It your ..own, or. one you have read? Tell me next-letter.

"Tiddleywink," Wellington.—l havo one, too. Its mother is tortoiseshell, but it is a grey, flulfy ball, tho loveliest thing ... Do tell mo what you havo christened yours. . small thing. ... Rosemary Wall, Pukerua . Bay.r-What strange places tho Fairy Bing crccp3 into, doesn't it, child? Are you one of us ." . . or is this your first appearance? ■■ "Eva," Petone.—Darling, I'm so very afraid that Earle must think another ono. That name is chosen already. But there • are heaps and heaps left in the insect lino, if he wants a creepy name! Tell him to try another. "Sprouter," Petone.—Welcome, young one! Is your name going to be in the First-Letter People next week?. '■ - .. •'Timmy Wiffle," Island Bay.—But it Is a lovely one, child of tiie strange name. :Were you on a table-top? . . .and did you Oy there with those wings of yours? i just wonder 1 .... "Sergeant Dan,". Lower Hutt .. . .. And just a little more. To answer those questions. Holidays? '. . . I'm not certain, but if I do. It will bo sea or river, dear one. Somewhere . . . anywhero ... to bathe! Joan Gcllatly, Brooklyn.—lsn't this your first visit to us. Jean child? I don't remember you before . . . no, I'm almost sure. Write and tell me about you. Eileen Parkinson, Wellington.—But yes ; . . all fairies love dancing, Eileen ... . even this one, when she has time.! Have you a snapshot" of yourself? . . . berauso I imagine that I know you—oh, quite well: Douglas Hcpworth, Petone Don't you want a King name, small scout? Six years old is big enough tv priut me a letter, I'm certain. Eileen Murray, Miramar Paints are better. doar heart. So many more colours, and more to look at when you have done Is this your first? "Tres Bon," Wellington The winds were not very kind to Father Christmas, were they? buffeting, rowdy tilings! But I do hope you pass . . . truly I do. It would bo dreadful to fall after choosing a namo like that 1 Joan Gay, Seatoun.—Clever, little one I Eight years can manage a paint-brush and pen so very well ... for eight years. Tell me more about you. "Redcap," Miramar.—Surely, you may—we are glad to see you. I think you will fit on a toadstool far better than a mushroom, with a name like that I Mushrooms for fairies; toadstools for elves and pixies, and little, long-capped gnomes, you know! "Rumple Stilt Skin," Wellington.—Black, with a white belt . . and a rod top to you! It does sound gay and bright and summery .. . but oh dearl I wish the weather would sound tho same, don't you? I think the bad-weather sprites must be in full control of affairs up above I ■ Audrey Whitelaw. Wellington.—Arc you new, small visitor? And do we hear moro of you? Your bee was au extra-special gentleman. I liked him. • : Gwcn Stickings, Petone.—Walk straight In, little new thing. You will find a special mushroom all ready for you. How big are you, and whereabouts is your home? More from you, please I - "Chic," Wellington.—Welcome, chickadee I They were all right. . . . Did you guess them by your own self? How old are you, and how big?., , ... .;' .■'.-. "Wild Rose," Lower Hutt—But I am glad you aro not changing, little' one. The tiny pink thins In the hedges. . . . sweet smelling and dew-covered' ... -. ■ what ■ could be dainlier? .And just think how gay you are In the autumn!. ... Edward Boosie. Soatoun.—lf your letter did not arrlvo each weeki young one, I ohould certainly think something had happened to you 1 Don't you love flre-cnglncs, with their clang and their clatter? They seem so ... .determined—don't- they? Ngairo Boyes, Johnsonville.—Once again darling— it won't do 1 Isn't It terrible? . . . nil these names that you want most. Would you like Woodland Child. . . . It sounds like some fairy creature from a fairy place. "Mrs. Tittlemouse;" Newtown.—Yes .. . I did . . but it was such n little thing dear heart. You could do it yourself,, if you 'tried-..' . . But don't you adore the one small flower-that, you grow yourself • far, far better than whole gardens belonging to other people? You see . . . it's yours! N.0.C., Lower Hutt.—Surely, we will love to have you, small one . . . It Is very good, but not quite tho best . . .■: this time. Better luck next

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