THE POSTIE'S BAG

Evening Star, Issue 20132, 23 March 1929, Page 20

THE POSTIE'S BAG

Factory road, IMosgic). Dear Big Brother Hill, —Just a note to say I will be twelve years of age on the 14th of this mouth, and hope you will send the radio postman to mo. I may say the radio postman has'been a frequent visitor to onr house, as several of your radio family conic here to hear their birthday greetings, and also Aunt Sheila’s and your own interesting stories from time to time. I did not get to your radio pieuie, but I beard the description of the event over the air, and I made up my mind to be present next year, if ail goes well. On Sunday evenings, while the children's session is in progress, wo [ml the loud speaker at the front door to enable the neighbours’ children to hear the service, which they appreciate very much. Every Sunday afternoon of late we have heard the American short-wave stations sending out messages to the members of the Hyrd Expedition from their friends in America. We also hear England every morning and Holland on certain days of the week. These stations are now corning in at good loud-speaker strength. Well, this is all 'I have to say at present, so f will close, with host wishes from— Your loving brother, Jim M‘Leod. | I think your letter should go in the honour square this week, Jim M'Leod. It scores the live marks for greatest interest. It is a. capital little letter, too, and shows that vou’rc a jollvgood fellow: 1 mean about that loud speaker being put outside so that other bairns can join in the Sunday service. It ought to be a- stunning idea among the family folk to arrange radio parties this winter. Lots ot bairns have neither the excitement nor the fun that radio gives, and sharing your mercies isn’t a had idea at all. Jlat yonrs must be a powerful set, Jim. Don’t yon got quite a thrill when you Jioar the voices coming across the world? What a wonderful help it is to the poor chaps among the ico and snow, thousands of miles from home, but able to hoar messages from the home folk. You must certainly come to next year’s picnic, Jim. The last will bo hard to beat, of course, hut Brother Bill wouldn’t ho surprised if is was done. Thank yon lor your letter, and a hundred tjianks for your kindness in allowing others to share your radio.]

Kairna taiia i, X uggefs. Dear Big Brother Bill ami Aunt Sheila,—l was so pleased you and your family bad such a lovely time at the picnic. It was too far for me to come, so wo just sat and listened in. You must have had a royal time. I am sending you a photo of Joe and myself. The little boy Douglas I gave my seagull to is very kind to him. My darkly supplies a shop in Balclutlia with (ish. and mother arranged for Douglas to go and get scraps of fish for Joe, as we were afraid lie would miss his fish: but be is doing fine, and loves his new master just as much as lie loved me. Will you please say “How do you do?” to my Auntie Flo, who is going to listen in. She is in Dunedin. Tell Mr Announcer be must sing on Friday night. One day my daddy is going to send you a parcel of nice fresh fish. Well, f will listen to see if you get the'photo on Friday night. —Love to Aunt Sheila. Mr Announcer, and yourself from Hazel Rein. [Thank you very much for your letter, Hazel Hein, and for the charming little pictures of yourself'bolding Joey, the pet seagull. Brother Rill lias beard of many kinds of pets, and sees many , of which be has board, hut it is really the first time bo has beard of and seen a pet seagull. He always thought they were such fierce, untameable fellows. Yours looks to be one of the big white chaps, too. I expect that it aIP points ' to your great kindness to birds and I animals, and I do think that yon should rereive a little pat on the Ijack. Con-

sidcr vourself patted gently between tiie shoulder blades, Hazel Rein. I don’t quite know how you feel about the matter-. Hazel, but it would make Brother. Bill a teeny weeny hit jealous to see one of his pets love another personas well as it did himself. If yon c ii 11 see Douglas and Joey so happy and not feel bad about it, then Brother Bill thinks that you must, be a very , nice person to know, and lie is very glad you’re in the family. Daddy Rein is very kind indeed to think of Brother Bill and a nice parcel of fresh fish, please thank him. 1 shall certainly write him a letter when it arrives.]

21 Queen’s drive. Musselburgh, Dear Big Brother Bill, —Hero I am. again, trying once more for the prize. I'have tried your very interesting competitions many times, but have never been successful in winning anything. Never mind, I will try, try, try again, like King Bruce and the spider. Yon will remembei that he succeeded, so I might yet, too. t liked that recitation about Jim very much. It cheered me up after I had thought of all the competitions 1 had lost. I still read •your columns in the paper, and enjoy them very much. Well, Big Brother Bill, I will have to stop now. With lots of love from Betty Esplin. [Well, Betty, dear, Brother Bill thinks that you are a courageous little sister about those competitions- It is too bad that you don’t win, but the competition wouldn’t be worth bothering about at all if it was too easy. If your failure fills you with determination to keep on until yon win, then you are gaining something even more valuable than the prize. Let Brother Bill whisper a secret into your car, Betty Esplin. It is the people who give up too easily who stay at the bottom of life’s ladder; the people who determine to imitate King Robert Bruce climb slowly and surely to the top. All sorts of good wishes to you, Betty, for a soon-to-be victory. And another thing, Brother Bill sends bushels of love in return for your own.]

Aiiderson’s Bay. Dear Big Brother Bill, —I am sending my answers to your ccSSJpctition. I have not written to you before, but I usually read your column, and very often I try your competitions. 1 wisli you many happy returns of your birthday, Brother Bill. I know it is next week. So is my father's, and that helped me to remember yours. I will bo nine years old on July 26. I was at my grandmother's during the Christmas holidays, and I had a lovely time playing most of the time with_ Snip and the cat. One day the cat climbed to tho top of a tall tree, like those at your place, and stayed there for days eating young birds. I. thought he would never come down, and when he did he was very thirsty. We could not go near the bee hives on those very hob days without being stung. The horses raced round and round the paddocks if any of them were stung, and Snip would run like a lire engine, yelping and squealing. We used to catch a lot of lobsters, and ono day wo cooked some at tho creek, and my brother ate them, and made everyone ill to seo him. Tho turkey has wee chickens, and she looks alter them, just the same as she would wee turkeys. We used to gather the eggs sometimes, and Tom used to give us each a cup of milk while he was milking. 1 must close now.—With love from Betty Beatson.

. LY ours is certainly a dandy little letter, Betty Beatson, and I have been saving it so that the family might read your happy adventures. Our tom-kitten—Nigger, we call him—is growing up ever so quickly. He sits purring on a chair at the side of my typewriter as 1 write this letter to yon in the very early morning. He is growing a most handsome coal-black coat of fur. One reason why he is growing so bonny is because he climbs those trees you talk about. ,1. seriously suspect that he is a murderer ol little birds, just as yours seems to be, and I don’t like the scamp any the better for it. Bn .1. try to forget that nasty pint of Nigger's nature; you must try to forget also. Bees do get bad tempered in hot weather: the best thing to do is to treat them as you do badtempered people—let them severely alone. Personally, Betty, I think the lobsters found in creeks—crayfish yon call them, don’t you P—are nasty little things, f don’t wonder that you all felt "sick wljyn yon saw your brother eating themV But lots ol people do oat them," Betty, and think them to he very nice. You saw a turkey, too. There seems to Sieve been no end to your adventures, little sister, and Brother Bill is glad you had such a stunning time. Write again soon. ] 5 Grove street, Musselburgh. Dear Big Brother Bill.—Please may 1 become a member of your family? L will be ten years of age on March 16. and am in Standard IV. at Forbury School. . I go io South Dunedin Presbyterian Sunday School, and was present the day you told us about the elephants._ I. enjoy listening-in to the children's hour yery much, and .1. liice the children's column on Saturday night.—l remain, yours sincerely, Clarissa Emslic. [Thank you lor your letter, Clarissa F.mslie. Certainly you can be a member of the family. The radio postie came to your birthday and left something very nice behind him. Thank yon for the kind things you say about the bairns’ column; T hope that yon will enjoy it for many, many days. Write Brother Bill lots of stunning letters.J