Dots Little Folk

Otago Witness, Issue 4031, 16 June 1931, Page 69

Dots Little Folk

THE WEEK’S POEM.

The snow we had during Winter Show Week was a reminder that winter is here, children, and let me think that you might like me to print the following two poems for you. The first refers to the little English robin, which looks so beautiful against a snow-covered bough, and is written by Maire nic Pilip, in an American paper called the Commonweal. The second tells of the fascination of a snow-laden willow tree for a little girl, and is written by Marna Service, in our own New Zealand magazine—Art in New Zealand. DOT. FIRST ROBIN. Strange, in the hush of snow to see A crimson-breasted robin sit Upon the silver frozen tree. He springs and flies from branch to branch, And every time his dark wings flit, Down comes a tiny avalanche. He voices no astonishment At such a cold and glittering world, No. cry of protest or dissent. Is there no turmoil in his breast, Remembering the green leaves curled About his rocking, springtime nest? Remembering a fragrant storm, Half springtime rain, half cherry flowers, That drenched the earth, yet left it warm? Remembering suns like daffodils That gleamed through the allotted hours, And withered on the evening hills? But easily and unconcerned, He moves within the silver tree As though his breast were flame and burned,

A rumour of untided springs; And all the dark air suddenly . Throngs with innumerable wings. * * * FORBIDDEN SNOW. The willow’s back is bent with snow, And underneath her arms I go. She tweaks my hair, and places cold A crown of ice inlaid with gold Over my forehead—and the thirds She gives me: pearls, and snowflake

wings, Raindrops that burn and hurt my eyes, And silver pears of pigmy size! But, oh! against my strongest will She numbs me, makes me cold and ill. When her thin hands reach out to me I long to sleep against the tree, And snuggle to her icy breast . . . I cannot wait, I dare not rest, For Nanna says she’ll always know My tell-tale footmarks in the snow.

FAIRY LACE.

"Dear me, dear me!” groaned the Brown Elf, “ we’ll never do it.” “Well,” said the Green Elf with a careless shrug of his shoulders, “you’ve got yourself to blame.” “ Oh, have I? ” retorted the Brown Elf, with a dangerous gleam in his eye “ and pray how do you make that out? ” “ Well,” continued the Green Elf, “ you couldn’t tell the Spider King how many yards of lace you’d require, and he said he wouldn’t take your order until you did know just exactly how much he’d have to weave.” “Then tell me, please,” asked%the Brown Elf, very proud and distant, “ why have the spiders started to weave now, although I haven’t told them how much I want? ” “ Because,” replied the Green Elf, " I’ve given them instructions myself.” “ How clever of you! ” said the Brown Elf disdainfully, and strutted away towards the spiders’ factory. He would not for worlds let the green Elf know that he was only too glad of his interference, for what would the Fairy Queen say if the lace was not ready by dawn? What she would say was really beyond thinking about. He would hope for the best.

The spiders’ factory was on the outskirts of Fairyland. The moon was still hiding behind the clouds, so the glowworms had been ordered out to light up the road which led in and out between the trees until it came to a great open

(July 16,1886.

Dot invites short letters from her young friends throughout the Dominion on matters of Interest to themselves, the result of their observations in the animal world, descriptions of anything they are interested in, of the district tn which they live, of their school and home life, holiday trips, etc. The letters are' to be written by the little folk themselves, and addressed, “ Dot, care of Editor Otago Witness.” Dot’s Little Folk’s Badge, with pin, for use as a brooch, obtainable on application to Dot. Price, 2s 6d in stamps or postal notes. • _ Auto. Cards are obtainable from Dot, Otago Witness Office, Dunedin. Price, 9d for 25.

space. Here, between two oak trees, was spread a wide expanse of millions of delicate silvery threads, so fine that it seemed almost impossible that they should hang there without breaking. Hundreds of little spiders were busily racing to and fro, up and down, and in and out on this silver network, weaving the most wonderful patterns on its surface. An excited group of elves, some in brown and some in green, were gathered together watching the spiders at work. “ They’ll never manage it,” cried one. “ Yes, they will,” squeaked another. “ No, they won’t,” contradicted a third. A fourth turned to No. 3 and shouted angrily—“ They will, they will! I bet you ten acorn cups full of the best dew they will.” ■> . “ Done! ” yelled No. 3, jumping up and down with excitement. Up and down, in and out, toiled the spiders. The threads grew into wonderful designs—a star here, a wild rose there, a water lily at one corner, a slender-fronded fern at another—and the whole pattern was joined together by the frailest silver strands. Suddenly the moon sailed out from behind the clouds ,and the busy scene was lit up by her pale light. Then, down the road, where the glow-worms stood at attention, came the Fairy Queen. Her golden hair shone in the moonlight, and she was wrapped in a long cloak of white rose petals to protect her from the cold. She had come to see how the lace-mak-ing was getting on, and the little elves made way for her as she came forward. The Spider King bowed low, and then stood at attention. “My dear King,” said the Fairy Queen, “ I trust the lace will be ready in time. My fairy carriers will be here any moment now, and you know that the lace must be hung on the trees in the West Wood before dawn.”

“ Your Majesty,” replied the Spider King, “the last thread is fastened this very moment. The lace is ready for your carriers.” As he finished speaking a hundred tiny fairies alighted before the Fairy Queen. They had gossamer wings and silver dresses, and their little feet were pink and white like sea-shells. At a sign from the Fairy Queen they flew to their positions round the lace. The Brown Elf and Green Elf took a corner each. Then off they flew through the moonlight, the beautiful lace shimmering and gleaming against the deepblue night sky. At last they reached the West Wood, and the fairies and the two little elves went from tree to tree hanging the lovely lace on their branches. There were hundreds of trees to decorate, but at last they were all finished. The Brown Elf mopped his brow with a violet leaf handkerchief, and the Green Elf sat down on a toadstool to rest. Just then a rose-coloured light came slowly gliding up the sky. “ It’s the dawn,” said the fairies. “ We’ve managed it after all,” sighed the Brown Elf happily. And if you would like to see the fairy lace get up some morning at dawn, before the sun is up too high, for, although the lovely delicate thread-work can stand the moon’s pale rays and the touch of fairy fingers, the sun’s bright light is too strong for it.—B. E. S., in the Glasgow Weekly Herald.

THE ENVIOUS CROW.

Mr Peacock strutted in the sun, spreading his tail proudly for all to note its beautiful markings. People who came into the park looked at him through the railings and said, “ What a beautiful bird! ” Mr Crow sat on the lowest branch of a tree just above Mr Peacock and preened his feathers; but no one noticed him at all, so that every day he became more and more envious. He flew up to the top most branches of the tree and brooded with his head hunched down between his wings. He watched Mr Peacock, who had folded up his tail because there was no one near just then to admire if, and he told himself: “I’m a fine fellow. Only think of my fine glossy plumage and my delightful voice. Peacock could not sing a note, I do believe, but I—why, I am a very tuneful fellow.” Then he thought of Miss Crow, whom he admired so much, and who always

teased him, refusing to tell whether she liked him at all. If only he had feathers like Mr Peacock’s, of course she would fall in love with him at once! Looking down, he saw several bright tail feathers lying on the ground, and immediately he got the great idea. Darting down, he collected all he could find and stuck them in amongst his own tail feathers. He knew that if he were to fly they would soon fall out, so he stood there at the top of the tree and began to sing a love-song to Miss Crow. Soon she fluttered into sight, and sat listening. Then she came a little nearer, and then —she saw the tail feathers! Mr Crow looked so funny that she laughed until the tears came into her eyes. Some other crows who were passing joined in the laughter, until the poor bird wished that the earth would open and swallow him. Sadly he pulled out the feathers and flung them from him. Seeing his distress, Miss Crow felt sorry for her cruelty to him, and flew on to the same branch. “ Why did you do it? ” she asked. “ Because,” said Mr Crow, rather stiffly, “ I was always taught that ‘ fine feathers make fine birds,’ and it seemed to me that you could not help admiring Mr Peacock.” “ I don’t like him,” said Miss Crow, decidedly. “He is too conceited for words, and personally I prefer black feathers like my own.” So Mr Crow suddenly stopped. envying Mr Peacock, and they started discussing which tree would be most suitable for the nest they were going to build. An exchange.

TO ALL. Dear Little Folk,—When I was at the pictures the other evening I saw a Dogville Comedy,” which caused many people much amusement, but which left me feeling more like crying. Now, most anima s can be trained to do various things. But of all animals, none, probably, is so ready to comply with the wishes of man, or can be developed so quickly, as the dog. Its natural intelligence is a noteworthy point in its favour, of course, and its keenness to please is another important factor The horse has been frequently described as “man’s noblest friend.” The dog is unquestionably his most loyal friend. Even when thev are subjected to persistent illtreatment, dogs often continue to display loyalty to their masters, and more than that, marked affection. Let danger menace a man or his children, and his dog will instantly seek to defend them. In such circumstances —as a rule he fears .nothing. One of the outstanding faculties of the dog is that which enables him to differentiate between different scents. Everybody is familiar with the stories of the work of bloodhounds, in following the trails of criminals and others. Some breeds, of course, are more intelligent than others, and they are more amenable to training. Take sheep dogs, for example. Nature has endowed them with qualities which may be said to place them in a class by themselves. As a result of careful breeding over a long period, together with systematic training, many sheep dogs exhibit a cleverness quite equal to that of an average person. But the dogs I saw performing were doing unnatural tricks which, I am confident in saying, could not be taught by kindness. Hence I was greatly interested in reading the following paragraph taken from the Australasian, and dealing w’ith the very dogs I saw: — “ There is not one single point of view from which the picture ‘ All Quiet on the Canine Front,’ a ‘ Dogville Comic,’ is defensible. Putting dogs into the trenches to burlesque the soldiers is, at the best, in odious taste. But the whole principle involved in training these unhappy and unfortunate animals to carry out unnatural acting must be repulsive to anyone with humane instincts. The spectacle may appeal to primitive and subnormal intelligences, but the training involved puts the exhibition on the same plane as bear baiting, cock fighting, and other barbarous pastimes which the law’ has wisely suppressed, as it should also suppress thia brutal exploitation of animals for profit. Certainly some dogs are better actors than some of the Hollywood humans, but still that does not excuse the producers or in any way lighten their offence. A belated recognition of the superior acting ability of the canine race may be just, but it is no reason for the toleration of their exploitation.” I hope you will keep this in mind, children, and not encourage people to make such “ comics ” by showing that you like them and approve of them. Your letters this week are again good, and again I am extremely pleased with you all. Te Alatai, Va, Westcliff-on-Sea, and Lady Burstall are among those w’ho have tried to observe our motto best.— Your loving DOT.

LETTERS FROM LITTLE FOLK

Motto.—We write for the benefit of others, not for ourselves. ( THE BEAUTY OF NATURE. Dear Dot, —We have started high school again, and are back into the usual routine of work. The weather has been very bad here. I read in one of the Little Folk’s letters that they had been having hard frosts and fine days. Well, we have had the frosts, but I am sorry to say that somehow or other the fine days have nearly always failed to come! Still, I do not think anyone should grumble, as things can always be worse, can they not? A friend came out to our place recently, and, of course, had a very good time. I am going out to her place soon if it is fine. I am looking forward to it. On the day my friend came out we went along the river on my uncle’s property. We went from the protection works along the river, and sat on a log to look in the water and see if we could see any fish, but we were unsuccessful. We went further along the edge, watching for uncommon stones. Looking across the river

I saw one of the most beautiful sights I I have ever seen. On the other side of > the river have been planted some young willow saplings and among the saplings were some young light brown calves. As a background there were the beautiful old graceful weeping willow trees. They stretched away at the back and along the sides of the young saplings, and were graceful as the breeze swayed them, dipping their slender branches in the ripling waters. The river was almost as blue as the sky overhead, and the sun was pouring its warmth down, and everything was still when, suddenly, almost too quick for the eye to follow, a huge red-gold fish leaped into the air, only to disappear once more into the water, leaving only the rings on the surface to tell of its appearance. My friend and I gradually moved away, and continued our walk down the bank. We walked, following the curious bends and curves of the Manawatu River, until we came to where the river was running beneath a straight bank, where, tucked away in a most subtle manner, were the most lovely little kinds of caves one could possibly imagine. We passed on and crossed the paddocks to home. When it is not too cold, I love getting up and watching the sun rise. I did this all during the holidays, and there really were some beautiful sunrises. One morning there was a thick fog all over everything. It was so thick that when the door was opened one could not see the end of the veranda. Just a little while after we were up the sun came over the horizon, and through the mist it appeared like a-most wonderful red ball which was hovering just a little way from us. One morning when I got up the ground and trees were as white as if the whole place had been painted by the “ snow queen.” The cat had had a drink of milk in an old plate at the door, but had not finished it, and the remaining milk had been frozen so hard by the frost that it had to be half melted before we could do anything with it. Outside in the grass there are many spider webs, and they look very pretty when they are encased in their white armour of frost. I particularly remember one morning when I -went down the paddock to watch the sunrise. Everywhere was covered with white hoar frost. Every little puddle was converted into ice. and above the hills a faint rosy glow began to show. The hills were gradually made pinker and pinker, and Mount. Ruapehu with its snow-capped peaks, showed pink and gold in the distance. As the sun neared the horizon, the lights and colours

grew deeper. The hills passed the colour from one to the other, making a most beautiful picture. At last the rays of the sun showed over the hills, and the frost looked wonderful in its reflected pink and gold. Then very quickly the sun rose well above the horizon, making the frost gradually thaw. One night we were having supper when mum came and asked us to have a look outside. Over the fields a mist could be seen gradually coming towards us. High above us, like some aureoled saint, tne moon cast its beams downwards, and still the mist rolled on, like some white, hungry thing, grasping and enveloping everything it came to. Then, before we knew it, we were completely surrounded by fog. But it did not stay for long, going as soon as it came. I must close this letter now, as I am tired, and I am sure if I do not stop I shall go to sleep. Kind regards to yourself and all the Little Folk. —Yours truly, TE MATAI (Palmerston North).

[I like your descriptions of natural beauty so much, Te Matai, that I am giving your letter a heading this week, and making it the first in the page. Do not lose your ability to see loveliness in lovely things, and some day you may. grow to see loveliness in unlovely things; for there is loveliness in everything. You have painted a number of effective pictures with words instead of colours. I should have liked to see the mist coming up. It must have been very eerie.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —We are having very cold weather at present. It was snowing here one week, and it was lovely riding to school in the snow. I have just finished a book called “ Impossible. Peggy,” and it was very, good. Now I am reading one called “ The Girls of St. _ Augustine’s.” We are back at school again, and I did not like going back. I hate jumping out of my cosy bed these mornings. We have a fire and a heater going both at once on the frosty mornings. Love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.— / Yours truly, ./ BLUE EYES BEAUTY (Gore-Waikaka Rural Delivery). [I heard of a dog who also liked the snow, Blue Eyes Beauty. He put his nose in it and ran along while it sprayed up all round him* just as if he were a plough. He was accompanying his little master to school. You seem to like schoolgirl stories, even though you did not like returning to school. You are lucky to have both a fire and a heater in your home.— DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I last wrote to you, and I now take up my pen to write a few lines to the dear old l page. The weather on the coast is very cold and bleak at present. But we required some rain, as the tanks were growing empty My birthday was on May 16, and I received a number of useful presents, some of them being, a bla'zer, a handbag with 7s 6d in it, a writing set and pen, a pair of stockings, a bottle of scent, a. cushion cover and the cottons to work it with, a calendar, a book entitled “ Nancy No-good at School,” by May Gervaise, two handkerchiefs, and a birthday card. Moonland Fairy’s birthday is the same day as mine. Steele Rudd wrote a very interesting letter to the page about the whaling industry. Recently an outboard motor boat went along past here. We could hear the roar ot the engine quite plainly even though it was about two miles out. I am reading a book at present called “The Three-cornered House,” by Evelyn Everett-Green. It is very interesting;. Have you read it? We had our little nephew staying with us for the last week of the school holidays. He did not w-ant to go home except to see his little brother creeping. We do not take the Otago Witness, and I miss reading the Little Folk’s letters. I go to a neighbour’s house to read it. Our flower garden is not very pretty just now, as all the flowers are dying. The chief flowers are chrysanthemums and dahlias. We have some lovely chrysanthemums. Tangle Pate’s letter in the Otago Witness gave Jis some idea of the immensity of the earthquake in Napier and Hawke’s Bay. Well. I must close now, with best regards to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.—Yours truly,

QUEEN OF DAUNT (Kuri Bush). [lt is indeed a long time since I heard from you, Queen of Daunt, so I was glad to receive your letter this ■week. Many happy returns of your birthday. You had a most delightful assortment of presents, did you not? I have heard outboard motor boats, and know how noisy they can be on a still day. I have not read that book. Is it as adventurous as several others of that author? Our dahlias have been over for several weeks, but we have some chrysanthemums.'— DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a few weeks since last I wrote to you. I have now changed my residence, and I am working about 55 miles from Waikaia and eight miles from Mataura, in a very quiet place. My position is to assist with housework. There are six children, three of whom go to school. The name of the school is Waikana. I have been nearly a fortnight at this place, and I like it well. When I have saved enough of my money, I am thinking of going to the Taieri to work, so when I come to Dunedin I shall come and see you. Well, you asked what a royal head was. I do not know much about it, but I have heard people say that it is the best head to have, because it is even on each side. The time to shoot deer to have good heads is when they are in velvet. The duck shooting season opened on May 1, and my father shot a number of grey ducks. The season lasts two months. It is not very long. Two of my corerspondents wrote to me, but I have not answered them yet, as I have been packing my clothes, so they must excuse me this time. I think this is all the news, so I will close now, with kind regards to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly, YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER (Mataura). [I am delighted to know that you have such a pleasant occupation, Young Highland Rover. I always think that housework is one of the best of all kinds of work, and some day I hope to have time to do a great deal of it. It is pleasing, too, that you are at a place with a large family. I must thank you for your news about deer. Perhaps some other Little Folk may know more about them and write further on the subject. Could you not answer your correspondents’ letters now? See “ Notes.” —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —Please may I join your happy band of Little Folk. I am fifteen and a-balf years of age, and I have left school. I have often wanted to write to your page, but I have always been too lazy to write. I always read the Little Folk’s letters, as some of them are very interesting. Did you go to the Winter Show? I did not. -but I hope to be able to go next year. Some of my friends told me that it was very enjoyable. The country in which I live is very pretty. We have pine tree plantations all around us. In the winter the trees are very beautiful with the snow on their branches. I will have to close now, with love to yourself and all the Little Folk.—Yours truly,

BONNIE BESSIE BUNTER (Whare Flat).

[Two other Little Folk—one from Heriot and one from Glenorchy—had chosen the name you wanted, dear, so I altered it slightly. I am very glad to •welcome you to the page. .1 hope you Will not be too lazy now that you have joined, for I shall like receiving your letters. The Winter Show was a great success this year. I know how beautiful a pine plantation looks after a snowstorm. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I have not written for a long time, so I thought I would start again. I was in Dunedin for my term holidays, and had great fun while I was there. I used to go with nay cart and a sugar bag and collect some sand for uncle to make concrete. Sometimes ‘ I used to go messages for auntie. I was staying at St. Kilda. Big Brother Bill called our names over the air one evening. My mother is the secretary of the school committee here. We have -a good little school. Our teacher comes from Dunedin. He teaches us gardening on Fridays. The garden is finished now until spring. We are making table napkin rings out of cardboard and raffia at school. I like handwork best. We have a new calf. It is black and white, and so pretty. What do you think I should call it? We had snow on the ground recently. It was very deep in places. It is melting away now. With best wishes to all the Little Folk and yourself.—Yours truly, MARMITE (Balfour).

[I am glad you have made that decision, Marmite, for I am very fond of your

namesake. You seemed to have splendid fun at St. Kilda. What a help you would be to your uncle and aunt! They would not want you to go home again. What did Big Brother Bill say when he called to you over the wireless? I think Nonnie would be a pretty name for your pretty calf. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I spent my term holidays in Dunedin. A friend of my auntie’s at Caversham took me to the aerodrome to see the aeroplanes. They are huge things to look at. I also went to see my uncle at Milton. When we reached there, we had a look round the farm. I saw his coal mine. It was not so deep as Gore coal mine. When we were going back again he gave us three bags of apples, two bags of coal, a box* of carrots, and some beetroot for grandma. I went to grandmother’s three times during my stay with my auntie. One of my aunties has a new baby. I came first in my examination when • I was in Standard I, and I am first in Standard II examination so far. I will be eight years on June 19. My baby brother is walking now, and can say “ dog.” He also tries to sing. I will close with love to yourself and the Little Folk. —Yours tru'y, MAGNESIA (Balfour).

[Would you like to be an aviator and go up in the air some day. Magnesia, or would you rather be a miner and go under the ground? You seem to have spent a very happy holiday. What numbers of interesting things you did! I congratulate you on coming top of the class, and on writing so good a letter when you are only seven. I wish I could hear your baby brother trying to sing. —DOT.]

¥ ¥ ¥ Dear Dot, —Here I am writing to the page again after such a long, spell. I am so sorry that I did not write to you before. It is very cold these nights, and I think the best place is bed. Our hens have started to lay. We receive about six eggs, and sometimes not as many as that. Our cows are not giving very much milk these days, but they have been milking a long time. I was at home about a fortnight ago, and it was pleasant for a change. I shall be going to Invercargill this month for a holiday. I am working a pair of pillowshams, but I have not had much time lately to do any fancywork, as I had other darning to do, but I have it nearly all finished now. I will soon be another year older, as my birthday is this month. Our vegetable garden still looks lovely, but we have no flower garden here. There were a few people out shooting ducks last month, and I think it is a shame to kill the poor ducks. I went out into the orchard .one day this week to gather the apples the wind had blown from the trees, and I gathered about seven bucketsful of apples. I hope this finds you well. Love to the Little Folk and your own dear self.—Yours truly. RED GERANIUM (Southland).

[Never mind. Red Geranium, you have written now, and that makes up for lost time. I agree with you about bed on a cold night. Do you like sitting up x.ith a dressing-gown on and reading till “ lights out ”? I hope you enjoy yourself in Invercargill. You must tell me how you spend your time. What a large orchard' you must have when you could gather so many windfalls!—DOT.]

Dear Dot.—l am a disgrace to the page, as this is the first time in 1931 that I have wakened to the fact that there is a page entitled “ Dot’s Little Folk.” I am ever so sorry that I did not write a letter to you and the page, but never mind, here I am. Well, I am at last settled in a new school, which I find very hard. It is the Dunedin Technical High School, the place I wanted to be in, but which I am now wishing. I was out of. I am nearly right in saying I hate it, and often I sit and wish I was back at dear old High Street. In my form, Dla, I have no old chum for a companion, and I think it is very hard to make new friends. We have four different teachers a day, but on Mondays we have only three, as one takes us all the afternoon for English and music. There are a few things .1 love, and these are cooking, art needlework, dressmaking, drawing, arts and grafts, and games. I had a very good term holiday at Stirling. Our journey there was very tiring, for we went on the slow train, which stops at every little station on the line. We had to take the slow train, as the express did not stop at Stirling. Stirling is a very pretty place, but the island is delightful. The place where I stayed was on the island. The house was situated right on the bank of the Clutha River. In one flood the water was three feet deep in this house, so you see it is very near the river. All good times come to an end, so now I am back at school and working hard. At the end of this month we have our examination, also the inspectors. You see, we only have two examinations a year, one in June or July and one in December. A real taste of winter was felt on June 5, and I thought the place was really beautiful in its snowy gown. Well, as I cannot go on and on for ever. I will close, with fond love to you and the Little Folk. —Yours truly,

WILL O’ THE WOODS (Dunedin). [Now that you have remembered the page again. Will o’ the Woods, you will find it easier to write. I was very glad to receive your letter. What a pity you do not like school! But I think you will change your mind next year, when you are no longer a new girl, but one of the intermediates. Do not lose heart, and you will make good friends by and by. And you will always be glad of your school training. I am glad you think Dunedin is beautiful. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —As it is ages since I last wrote to you, I thought I would write to-night. There is. snow on the hills round the town, so we can see the winter is here. One lovely day my friend and I went for a walk in the afternoon. We walked over four miles, so by bed time I was rather tired. In the morning I went to see a wedding, and I took some snaps. I do not know whether they will be any good or not. however. Recently my cousin, Pansy White, and I spent a few days’ holiday in Oamaru, and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. While we were there we went to see the films entitled “The Last of the Duanes v and “ Soup to Nuts.” They were very good pictures, too. Zonophone is doing his lessons. He

has more than he used to, as he is in Standard VI. I do not know what has happened to all of my correspondents. The only ones who write to me now are Mountain Lily and A Tui’s Mate. I have not heard from Nanetta for months. Perhaps if she sees this letter she will write again. I received a very nice letter from Laughing Australian Lass some time ago I love receiving letters from overseas. Some time ago I received a pretty handkerchief from Irish Shamrock, and I was so pleased. He also sent me the address of a girl in Malta to correspond with. I wrote to her, but have not received an answer yet. I do hope she writes. Pansy Vhite lias been ill ever since we returned from Oamaru. She has not been able to return to school yet. During the raspberry season my friend and I went picking. ‘ We had a good time, too. I am not very fond of picking, but when one haS a friend picking also it is not so bad. The crops were not extra good this year, and they were hard to pick, as the wind had dried them up. Not very long ago dad bought a wee pig. He brought it home and put it in the sty. It stayed there all right for the first day, but the next day it got out, without our knowing, and went to a neighbour’s place down the road. One of them came up and said it was there, so dad went and got it and put it in the sty. He made the sty higher too, so that it wouldn’t jump out again when he was not at home. The next day mum went outside, and here was our pig coming over the paddock. Mum and I were the only ones at home, so we went to chase it. It ran through the fence to our neighbour’s place, and they helped us. We were chasing it for over half an hour. In the end, our neighbours caught it, and put it in our sty and put a frame over it. It has not jumped out again, and we do not want it to. Love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly, FAIR FORGET-ME-NOT (Waimate). [A good w’alk is excellent these cold days, Fair Forget-me-not. It makes one warmer than the warmest fire, for it causes the blood to circulate more quickly. I hope your correspondents will write soon. What can have happened to them? I have heard that fruit picking is great fun, especially, as you say, when one has a friend to help one. The story of your pig interested me greatly. It. was a very adventurous piggy, was it not?—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I am really and truly ashamed of myself for not writing before this, but somehow I do not seem to have had time. I have not written any letters since Easter. But, as the good old saying goes, “better late than never.” I must now tell you about a trip I took when up at Kinloch. One bright, warm Saturday morning a friend and I packed the lunch basket with sardines, salmon, eggs, tea, etc., and, after saddling the horses, set out on a ten-mile journey, our destination being the Routeburn huts. This pretty spot is situated about halfway between the head of Lake Wakatipu and Lake Te Anau. The trip was extraordinarily beautiful, being through expansive native bush. We crossed the Routeburn River two or three times, climbed up steep, rocky faces, on horseback of course, and then crossed a large plain covered with dried-up grass and docks. Going through ’ the bush was simply glorious. Every time we came to a fuchsia tree we stopped the horses and ate some fuchsia berries. Then underfoot the ferns were gorgeous. They came right across the track, and it really seemed a pity to spoil their peaceful tranquillity by taking the horses through them, but, on looking back, behold! not a trace was left for us to mourn over. Not a fern was out of place. After arriving at the huts, we went inside one of them and lit the fire. We then boiled the kettle. After lunch we went outside and lay on the grass in the sun. At 4.30 p.m., or thereabouts, we made tea. About 6 p.m. we closed the hut door behind us and made tracks for home. We arrived at Kinloch at dusk, two tired but very happy girls. We took a number of snaps on the way to the huts, and if you are' at all interested in collecting Nature snaps, I will be only too pleased to send you some. You see, I would send them now, only I am in hospital, and the snaps are at home. I will not start and tell you why I am here, because I am sure other people do not want to be bothered with my little troubles. This much only will I tell you. I have had my operation, and the stitches are out, so I hope to be able to go home in about a week. Now I think I have gone over the' allotted space, so I do sincerely beg forgiveness. And also, before I close, I must apologise for writing in ink pencil, but I have no fountain pen and we are not allowed ink, so, of course, I had to use the next best thing. Now I really must close, as I see nurse bringing round the knives and forks, so that heralds tea time. Hoping you are in the best of health, I send love to all the

Little Folk and also your own dear self. Yours truly, - BLUE BELLE (Dunedin). [As soon as I saw the address on your letter I feared that you were ill, Blue Belle. Hence it was very reassuring news to read later that you are slowly recovering, and will soon be home. I hope you have not had too painful a time in hospital, and that you will quickly recuperate. To read about your trip to the Routeburn huts gave me extreme pleasure, as I know the district very well, and have , spent some days camping there. I should be delighted to receive the snaps you mention. —DOT.] ¥ ¥ ¥ Dear Dot, —I feel ashamed of myself for not writing before this. I have not the gift of letter-writing that some people have, so that is the reason why I do not write often. Since last writing to you my eldest brother has been married. The Forest King was his nom de plume. Perhaps some of the Little Folk have heard of him. He was married in St. Paul’s Church, Timaru, to a Dunedin girl. My sister was bridesmaid and I was best man. It was a fairly quiet wedding, but all the same we enjoyed ourselves. They now have a farm out at Maungati. We are having very hard frosts about here, so I have been down on the beach to catch frost fish, but I have not had any luck. I have been picking up potatoes behind a digger at the Washdyke. We have finished ‘ now. I was glad that we finished, because it was very cold going to work in the mornings on the motor cycle. I had about 12 miles to go, and I was frozen when I reached my work. One week-end I went for a trip on my motor up to Gape’s Valley, where my auntie lives, and where I had a very enjoyable time shooting rabbits. Work is very scarce at present. Crowds of people are out of work. I do not know what it will be like in another month’s time. Nearly everyone will be unemployed, I am thinking. I, however, have been very fortunate, as I have been in -work up to a month ago. I was off work for a week, then I found another job ’for a few weeks. Dancing is in full swing now. I was at a dance last Tuesday for a while. It happened to be Rifle Club night for me, so after the Rifle Club was over I went along to the dance for the rest of the evening. It was a presentation and dance to a gentleman who is to be married shortly, and who has been M.C. 300 times for one orchestra. I think that is a record for one orchestra, don’t you? The potato crops are very

poor about here this year. They are not as good as last year. My mother has been very ill lately. She is out of bed now, so I hope she will soon be better. On May 1 everybody around here was out duck shooting. I managed to shoot six ducks, so I think I caught my share. Back in the summer time we used to go down to the lagoon netting herrings and spearing flounders. My mate and I used to catch as many as 100 herrings and 50 flounders some nights. The water is too cold for us to go out these frosty nights. I would sooner go to bed. MTell, I must close now, with kind regards to all and yourself. —Yours truly, JACK-A-LANTERN (Canterbury).

[lf nobody wrote because he thought he could not write well there would be no letters at all for my page. Jack-a-Lantern. Yours is a considerably interesting letter, and I am pleased to have it. I was delighted to read about The Forest King’s wedding, and hope he and his bride will have a happy future. Let us hope you will long have work to do, for 1 should not like to think you were unemploved. Please give your mother my best wishes. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —As it is a good while since I last wrote to you, I think it is about time to send a few words to the page. We have been having pretty rough weather lately, although occasionally we have had frosty nights and one or two fine days. I have played in three football matches this season, but our local team (that is, Ida Valley) has been beaten each match. Ranfurly is the leading team so far, having won four matches, which is all there are in the first round. There are three rounds, also five first grade teams and seven second grade teams. Oturehua also has a hockey team. I was at a send-off the other night to one of the sons of our local storekeeper, and there was a fairly large crowd there. By the time you receive this letter I shall have shifted my abode again, as I am going down home to Milton for three months, but I do not think the weather will be any better down there. —Yours truly, COOK’S COBBER (Milton).

[Everybody seems to be complaining of cold weather, Cook’s Cobber. Yet. unless a winter is really cold it is" not nearly so healthful as it should be.. Football matches in the country are very exciting. I hope you will like your new work and that, despite your fears, the Milton weather will be good.—DOT.]

j Dear Dot, —I am back home again from ! j our crib at Taieri Mouth. The top boy i and I had ten out of ten sums right out of a class of 50. My birthday is on June 21, and I will be eleven years old. One day I saw four swans when I was at Taieri Mouth. They have white under their wings. One day we were away up the river, and it was a beautiful morning. ' The river was very low. When we were coming back from our walk we saw two . fantails and two kingfishers. The kingfishers have beautiful feathers. One day we saw two large steamers out at sea. One was going south and the other north. They were close in near Quoin Point. We could see the funnels on the one going to Port Chalmers. It was called the Norfolk. There was much excitement among the people down there on account of a big red deer with-horns, the first that had been seen in the district. It must have travelled a long distance. On Show Day we-went to the show. There were not as many sheep and cows there this time. The champion calf had a red band round his head. He was fed on whey paste, and came from Southland. One calf put his head out and started to chew a boy’s coat when he was not looking. The prize sheep had black faces. There were some little goldfish swimming in a little pond, the top of which was covered with wire netting. There were some cakes, fanevwork. and a great deal of butter. We bought a very quaint doll, which' was a]l hand knitted. It has pale pink wool knitted for its face, hands, and knees, a blue and tan jumper and tammy, and socks to match, brown knickers, boots, and hair, blue eyes, and a red mouth. . He is a great novelty. I think that he , is meant to be. a Scotch golfer. Our canary Richard is singing, although there , is snow on the ground. Love to all the ■ Little Folk and your own dear self. 1 —Yours truly, PRETTY FANTAIL (Dunedin). ; [Clever child to have ten sums right out b of ten, Pretty Fantail You saw some ; very pretty birds at Taieri Mouth. Did ' you notice how quickly the kingfishers moved? And fancy there being a red deer there. No wonder the people were excited. I see that you used your eyes to advantage while you were at the show. [ and saw all there was to see. What a * curious little fellow your doll must be! ’ I hope you have given him a good Scotch 3 name—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I am in Standard II at school. We have four dogs, five horess,

two cows, six calves, and 18 hens. I shall be eight on July 21, and I hope I have a cake. I went for a ten-mile ride on a horse. On the way my father and I got wet. I like animals, so I went up the hill with my father and another man to round up a mob of sheep. I have a little brother called Andrew. He is two and a-half years old, and is away in town for a holiday with mum and dad, so I mind the animals. Now I must close. —Yours truly, THE LITTLE SHEPHERDESS (Hyde) [Yours is a full farmyard, Little Shepherdess. I too hope that you have cake on your birthday. Somehow, I think you will. You must be a good, little horsewoman to ride for ten miles, especially when it was raining. I am glad you like animals, and hope that you will teach Andrew' to like them too. —DOT.] ¥ ¥ ¥

Dear Dot, —On the King’s Birthday we had a big basket ball tournament at school. There were about 90 girls there, and we had a great time. We were playing for a cup, which the High School Old Girls w’on. None of us had had much practice this year, but we had some splendid games. We are trying to form a hockey team at school. I hope we succeed. The other day I went out to Stafford, a place about ten miles from here. My father used to live there as a boy, and it was interesting to see all the old places again, though everything seemed to have changed since I was small. Stafford was once a mining town, with about 13,000 inhabitants, but now there are about three families there. A few' old huts are still standing, but everything else is overgrown. It sesmed so sad to see the few old places remaining, and they too will-soon be gone, I expect. In the old mining days Hokitika used to be one of the biggest towns in New Zealand, but now there are only about 4000 inhabitants’ I have seen photographs of the harbour with over 120 ships in it, while now there are one or two little steamers. It is a pity they cannot fix the harbour up a little, for it w'ould mean such an advantage to Hokitika. I received a letter the other day from my best friend, who is in England at present, and she said may be coming back to New Zealand soon. I hope they are, for I miss her. The grand stand of our racecourse was recently burnt down, and as this is the second time in two years, the club did not have enough money to rebuild it. Greymouth and Hokitika had a combined meeting at Greymouth to try to raise enough money to rebuild. I They did not do very well, but perhaps

they will do better later. Times are too hard for people to waste their money that w’ay now, yet, w’hen Captain MacGregor was here with his aeroplane it-was astonishing to see the number of people who went up with him. Well, I must close now, as I have a good bit of home work waiting to be done. I send my best wishes to the page. —Yours truly, L’INCONNUE (Westland).

[Tournaments are exciting events, L’lnconnue, especially when they have a large number of people taking part in them. You would have great fun in yours, even if you did not win. I wish you success with your hockey team. Your information about the old gold mining times is very interesting, and will be sure to appeal to all my readers. I had not realised that the towns had dwindled so much. I hope your friend does come back to New Zealand, for I know how pleasing such an event will be to you.-—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —Here I am once again. It seems ages since I last penned you ‘a letter, and I feel ashamed of myself, and do not deserve to be forgiven. Nevertheless, I always read the Little Folk’s letters and enjoy them very much. In fact, I hink they are more interesting since the Government has put a tax on postage. Some of your band are very faithful writers, and stand loyal to' the page despite the increase in postage. From now on I shall try to write more regularly to help swell your list of letters. The Gore Competitions finished up about three weeks 'go, and I must say I enjoyed them very much indeed. To add to my enjoyment, we had mild weather all the week, somewhat like summer. The vocal champion was a wonderful singer, and being very msical myself. I was fairly’ lost in his ;ongs. I would simply love to learn singing. I used to sing in the concerts held at the break-up of the school, and possessing a very' strong voice, I was always put at the back. Sometimes wg sang nigger ongs. and had to have our faces blackened and our lips painted red. We did look funny objects, I can assure you. Unemooyment is very bad in New Zealand just now In some places people are practically starving, whilst others are tramping the streets night and day. We can only hope and pray that the dark clouds will be turned inside out to show the silver lining before long. Winter is now fully upon us, with its usual hard frosts, cold, bleak wind, and snow’. The days are drawing in too, and it is dark almost at 5 o’clock. As I am writing this letter it is snowing slightly outside, and the hills are • already beginning to look white. It is very cold. too. I would rather wake up in the morning and find the hills snow-capped and everything all around covered with a thick mantle of snow, because I always think it is warmer when the snow is lying on the ground than w’hen it is actually snowing. I have read a number of books lately, the last one I finished being called “The Lamp of the Desert.” Have you read it? It is a very good story, but the characters in it are very daring, and in some parts it makes one’s blood creep. I have also read “ David Copperfield,” which. I think. I have read three times, although I never become tired of it, it is such a good book. My birthday was on Saturday, June 6, when I was 19, the last age of the ’teens, so I am getting up in years. I received a white and lilac toothbrush, a record with “ In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree ” on one side and “ Sweet Rosie O’Grady- ” on the other side, and a necklace of pink and black beads, which shine very brightly at night. I shall tell you in the next letter if I receive any. additional presents. I like reading about the Chums and Peter, Patty, and Mr Pip. Teddy and Golly have some fearsome adventures, such as when they encountered .the scout and the baby dragon, who chased them. I also read “The Forest Ranger.” which I enjoyed immensely, although there were some gruesome parts in it. What has happened to you, Apia? I have not heard from you for ages. My sister is playing basket ball at school now, and is one of ihe goalies in the A team. Well, I think 1 have taken up quite enough space on your page, so I shal close with love to ill. —Yours truly, GOLDEN SUNBEAM (Gore).

[lf your voice is so strong, and you are naturally musical. Golden Sunbeam, I think you should save all the money you can with the aim of learning singing as soon as possible. You are old enough now’, and should not let the chance pass you. Be sure to choose a reliable teacher. I have not read “ The Lamp of the Desert.” although I know “ David Copperfield ” very well. You received some very acceptable presents. Congratulate your sister for me on her position in the team. — DOT.]

Dear Dot. —At last here comes my epistle for the page, and I dearly hope it finds you all in the best of health. I should like to thank you very much for enlisting me as a member of the band. I observe that I have not obeyed the Little Folk’s motto —“ We write for the benefit of others, not for ourselves ” —so, from now on I shall try to write for the benefit of~ others at least once a month, which, I think, should not be hard for ethers to do. The weather has been very beautiful up in Hawke’s Bay district for the past fortnight, although there have been fairly heavy frosts and exceedingly cold nights. When it is too cold to leave my nice warm bed at 6.30 a.m., I lie back and go off to dreamland again, only to have the blankets pulled off and be told that I must make ready for my daily cold bath. I can tell you it is not very pleasant. Nevertheless, this sort of thing has to be put up with, whether one likes it or not, but we all take our cold baths in the best of spirits. I have been very busy lately mowing the lawns, and I am now’ trimming the hedges, which will take close on three weeks to do, as there are so many of them. On the King’s Birthday some friends and I travelled to Napier to W'itness the first Rugby representative fixture of the season between Hawke’s Bay and Wairarapa, which resulted in a win to our district by 27 points to 13. The weather was perfect, and there was a good attendance of about 3000. The match was very fast and interesting to W'ateh, and the way the Hawke’s Bay team played when defeating Wairarapa reminded me of the days when they held the shield; A. E. Cooke, the well-known All Black, gave a sterling display, saving many dangerous situations by his splendid line kicking,

and Hawke’s Bay were superior in both backs and forwards. I am also interested in the New Zealand cricketers who are touring England, and they seem to be far better this season as compared with two or three seasons ago. I notice that Roger Blunt is doing very well with bat and ball, and not forgetting the centuries. This is all for this month, so I will bring my epistle to its conclusion. Love to all the Little Folk and yourself. Aloha ka ko. -—Yours truly, MALAHINI (Waipukurau).

[I personally am in very good health, thank you, Malahini, and think that most of my Little Folk are likewise. I am interested to hear- that you have a cold bath every morning. It must be very good indeed for you. You seem to have derived great enjoyment from the football match, and followed every move of the game with interest. Your place will look very spick and span with its tidy lawns and hedges. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a while since I have written to you. I have just finished writing a letter to my auntie in Dunedin. We had snow recently, and it was very cold. W’hen the teacher was up at his house, we took some snow and packed it on his gate till it was up to the top. Then when he came he could not go through. My little brother has seven teeth, and was a whole year old on Friday. My father was at my uncle’s crutching some sheep, and when he came home he brought some lovely flowers. Betty Bright and Farmer Jack do not write to .your page, as they do not take the Otago W’itness. I spent my holidays with Betty Bright, and my’ brother spent his with Farmer Jack. We had a good time in the bush. Love to all your Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly. ROW’DY’S RUTH (Gore). [What did the teacher say when he found that the snow had packed itself so firmly against his gate, Rowdy's Ruth? I suppose he was very much surprised. You must wish your little brother manyhappy returns of Friday, and give him a kiss for''me, because it was his birthday. You would be pleased to see the pretty flowers. What kind were they? I have posted your badge.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I have not written to you for. a long time. I went down to Dunedin for my holidays. Dad took me down and also brought me back in the car. I went to the Museum, and to the pictures to see “ Tom Sawyer.” Did you see it? Dad brought home a dog from Roxburgh. Its name is Spec. Allan goes to school now. Dad went up to Central Otago shooting. He brought home some ducks and quail and blue pigeons*—-Yours truly, PETER PAN BOY (Timaru).

[You are one of the lucky ones to be able to go to and-from the scene of your holidays in a car, Peter Pan Boy. Did you stroke the seals in the Museum, No, I did not see that picture, but I heard a great deal about it. I should like to see Spec, if he is a lively dog.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I have just been reading the letters in the Otago Witness, so I thought I would pen a few lines. We had a heavy fall of snow recently, and between four and five inches lay on the ground. One morning there were four deer out on the turnips, and when they were going off two of them, a stag and a hind, started racing around in a ring after each other. They would then run down the hill a bit, turn, and run together again. Twice or three times they were down on their fore knees rubbing their heads in the snow. I stood for nearly half an hour watching them, as they could be seen quite plainly against the snow. Whooping cough is prevalent in these parts, and the six youngest of us have it. I have had a cold for two months, and in spite of what I have taken for it, it does not seem to be any better. I see that Bunty has written his retiring letter to the page. I met him once, but I did not know at the time that he was a Little Folk, as I did not see him with a badge on. The Girl Guides here are holding a euchre tournament every fortnight to raise money for uniforms. I have just finished reading a very interesting book entitled “ Deerfoot on the Prairies,” and I am now going to read “ Beau Geste.”—Yours truly, NETA LY’ALL (Glenaray).

[How pretty it must have been to see the deer playing together, Neta Lyall! I suppose they’ had no idea you were watching them or they would have been off like the wind. Do deer often pay a visit to your turnip field? I am sorry’ to hear about the whooping cough, and hope you will soon all be rid of it. I used to delight in the “ Deerfoot ” books when I was young.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is a long time since I penned those two words. Bunty’s letter in the last Otago Witness made me think that it is about time I wrote once or twice again, as I am nearing the retiring age. My little sister has lately joined the page. She wrote the other day, and has been reminding me ever since that I had to write too and post her letter. I have been home only about a fortnight, after a long holiday in Dunedin. At Easter six of us motored up to Pembroke. We left Dunedin at mid-day on Thursday. It was drizzling with rain, but when we reached Roxburgh it was beautiful. We stayed there the night. After dinner it was so mild that we were able to go for a walk by the river without hats or coats. The next morning we left Roxburgh, and passed through miles of orchards. Wo arrived at Cromwell for lunch. We went on and on through the hiils. when ai. i.f a sudden we caught a glimpse of the lake. We came from between two hills, through the village, and right down to the hotel before we really’ saw the lake. It was a beautiful afternoon, so we went for a stroll round the lakeside till dinner time. Lake Hawea is only about an hour’s run from Lake Wanaka, so the next morning we went up there. Instead of turning to the left and going to the hotel, we motored up the right hand side of the lake. The track was very narrow and very’ bumpy-, and went only up as far as Timaru Creek Lake Hawea is not nearly as pretty as Lake Wanaka. It is surrounded by bare hills,' -while Wanaka has many more trees round it. One afternoon we went up Lake Wanaka in the launch to Pigeon Island, and followed the track round the island. It seemed to go round and round the island till we reached Paradise Lake at the top. It really was

beautiful looking down the wooded slopes of the island and seeing the lake away down below, and away beyond the high mountains. I took one or two photographs that turned out very well. Another morning we motored round to Glendhu Bay. It was very pretty down there with all the willows almost down to the water’s edge. On Monday morning we left Wanaka, and went over the Crown Range, down the zig-zag, and into Queenstown, where we had lunch. It was very pretty there, and the gardens were beautiful, but I did not like it as much as Wanaka. We went back to Cromwell for the night, and then back to Dunedin the next day. I have just taken up golf lately. I had several lessons from the coach at Balmacewen while I was in Dunedin. What has happened to Till We Meet Again? Has she joined the ranks of the Old Writers? I have not seen a letter from her for some time.—Yours truly,

CURLY TOP (Timaru).

[“ Time and tide wait for no man,” *’Curly Top, so you are wise to write to me now, if you are gradually nearing the retiring age. Yes. Till )\e Meet Again is an Old Writer. She will be sending a letter for Old Writers’ Week. I hope. I have to thank you for the interesting description of your trip to Pembroke, which must have been so pleasant that I cannot help envying you it. You chose one of the most colourful seasons of the year for your journey. Have you good golf links in Timaru?—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —Here I am once more. It is ages since I penned a few lines to you, but although I am not a regular writer, I always read our Little Folk’s page every week. Some of your band are very faithful to the page, and still continue to write frequently, despite the rise in postage. Unemployment is very bad in New Zealand just now, but things will not come to the level till everything comes down in price and wages are reduced. It was rather wonderful how people in the olden days used to work for 5s a week" and thought they were well off at that. It is not the small farmers who feel the bad times as much as the station owners. If the people had. foreseen the bad times before they started to buy so many American cars, New Zealand would not have been in the state it is in to-day. The Government likes to tax the people and cut wages down, but . does not think of cutting its own wages down. Well it is bedtime now, and is growing late, so I will close, with love to all tlie Little Folk and your own dear self.—Yours truly, PROFESSIONAL RUNNER (Otautau).

[I see that you have the welfare of your country at heart, Professional Runner, and are fully aware of the bad economic conditions now prevailing. Of course, New Zealand is not the only sufferer. The whole world is affected. Your statement regarding the Government is hardly correct, for the Ministers’ salaries have been cut, just as have those of the people. Where the Government could help the country, perhaps, would be in cutting down public expenditure and setting an example of economy.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I suppose you have been waging to receive a letter from me. I must try to write more regularly. It was dad’s birthday on June 1. He went up to Upcot, near Blenheim, for a holiday, and stayed there three weeks. Your page is growing larger, is it not? Queen of Hearts is reading a book called “ The Hundredth Chance.” Have you read it? The weather changes all the time. It is wet for a while and then it is fine, and it keeps going like that. I wish it would stay wet or fine all the day. It was fine all the holidays, and then it became wet. My brother came home from my uncle’s place the other day, but he is away back again. He is working up there. Mum is knitting a pair of stockings for my brother. She has made one pair. Queen of Hearts is making me a new dress. Steele Rudd’s letter was very interesting, was it not? He must have had an enjoyable trip. I was first in Standard IV. The schoolgirls play hockey, and I like it better than basket ball. -It is a shame that the twopenny postage has come out, as fewer letters are sent to the page, but still there is a large number of members. I have not sent many letters away. Some of my correspondents have not written to me either. I will have to close now’, as I might be taking too much space.—Yours truly, DADDY’S EARLY RISER (Southland). [Yes, I have been waiting for your letter, and now it has come, Daddy’s Early Riser. I am pleased to have it. I think the page is growing larger, and certainly the letters are of an interesting nature. Would you not rather have had it fine during your holidays than now? I think I would have. Congratulations on coming first in your class. You are another clever Little Folk.—DOT.]

Dear Dot,—Please may I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am 11 years old, and am in Standard VI at school. I hope you and all the Little Folk are keeping-well. Is it not bitter weather we are having just now? I was un in Christchurch for my holidays, and liked it better than in Dunedin, as it is more “ countryfied.” I know Fairy Fan and Fairy Fan’s Playmate, as they go to the school I go to. We have six cows, three lambs, two dogs, two kittens and some fowls. I like school better than holidays. I have three brothers and one sister. I will clpse now, -with kind regards to all. —Yours truly, * COWBOY 808 (Berwick).

[You may join. Cowboy Bob, but you cannot be enrolled until you send me your private name and address. So please send it next time you write, dear. Yes, the weather is very cold, but so it should be at this time of the year. Remember we are in mid-winter. I am delighted to know that you like school so much, and hope you will always do so.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —Winter is here again, and it has been snowing. It is very cold, and we need to have big fires at nights. I was at the pictures one Saturday, and it was a very good one. I go very often, but I do not suppose I shall be able to keep it up for the winter, as it is much too cold. There is a gallery being put up in the hall now. I wonder what has happened to Punchinello and Pam the Lavender Girl.

I have not heard from them this year. I have just finished working a tablecentre, and it is very pretty. I am very fond of fancywork. We are just milking one cow now, and I have to bring her in and milk her. We are expecting two or three in soon, and they are good milkers. [ did not go anywhere for the holidays this term. Did you? Well, as this is all tbe news, I will close, with kindest regards to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.—Yours truly,’ BLOSSOMING CHERRY (Otautau).

[Some of the joys of winter are the big fires we are able to have-on cold evenings, Blossoming Cherry. You seem very fond of the pictures. I should not care to go as often as you go, however. Perhaps your correspondents will write to you if they see" this letter.* No, I did not go away for the term holidays. 1 did not have holidays then, you sec, so I was not so fortunate as you who go to school. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —All the farmers around here are wanting rain. We have had some fierce winds and hard frosts lately, and the frosts do not help to pull one out of bed in the morning. A recent Otago Witness had photographs in it of men harvesting and threshing on our farm. A photographer came about February and took them, and we have been lookv n-i to their being in the Otago Witness. I have just returned from a month’s holiday at mv uncle’s up at Fairlie, and during my stay I went to a euchre party and won the prize. I received a very pretty cup, saucer, and plate, and I was greatly pleased at winning it. as it is very usvful. I have not heard from Jolly Glad for nearly two months or more, so 1 really do not know what has become of her. I hope she writes soon. I received a letter the other day from Sundown Slim and A Mysterious Trespasser, and I do look forward to their letters, as they are so interesting. Our Anglican minister has left here and taken up a position in the Chatham Islands, but I do not know who is coming here. I am still learning music, and my latest piece is “Napoleon’s Last Charge.” It is a very pretty piece. Have you heard it? I ran a needle through my finger one Sunday, and for many days was unable to do anything with it, as it was so badly swollen and festered. It is late now. so I must close, with love to all the Little Folk and your own dear self. —Yours truly, THE MAID OF THE MORN (Waihao Downs).

[The harvesting pictures were very interesting, Maid of the Morn, but they are more so to me now that I know they were taken on your farm. Y’ou must live in beautiful surroundings. Y’ou did very well when you were on holiday, and I congratulate you on winning the prize. I have not beard that piece, which sounds as if it would be very stirring. Do not let any dirt go into your hurt finger or it may become poisoned.—DOT.]

Dear Dot, —The last time I wrote I told you we were going to hold our Guide company’s fifth birthday. We held it on May 5, and it was a huge success. We had over 300 people present. The first half hour was taken up with the inspection of the assembled Guide companies (Greymouth, Kumara, Runanga. and Dobson Guides, and Kumara and Greymouth. Rangers) by the provincial commissioner. After that there was the enrolment of new recruits and the presentation of badges. My patrol was fortunate in winning the silver>fcup for the patrol which gained the most points during the year. My mate and I received the guests, and acted as hostesses. After the presentation of badges we entertained the people present with a short programme. We gave displays of drill and folk dancing. Several Guides gave single items. Then followed supper, after which our captain cut the cake. This was divided so that everyone had a small piece each. We concluded our programme with “ Taps ” and the National Anthem. During the term holidays our commissioner took us for a tramp over the Sevcn-mile Bluff. We left town at 9.30 a.m., and walked to the end of the road on Cobden Beach. Then we started a climb over the point. After we crossed the point we sat down and rested. Te enable us to go on to the beach safely, we had to walk half a mile further to a track, but we decided that to walk half a mile to the track, then go down, and then walk another half mile back to our selected “ possy ” was a mile too far away, so we climbed down a hard dry clay surface, which crumbled as we went down, and really we slid down the greater part of the way. However, we saved walking a mile. We lit a fire, boiled the billy, had dinner, sang songs, paddled in the sea. and ’then walked over the edge of the bluff to have a look at d pink blow-hole. When we returned my two chums and I walked three miles to the Rapahoe coal mine. We saw some of the miners enter to go on duty, and we also saw the endless chain of trucks. The full trucks come nut of G’n • •■!•■■■ -m one set of rails, while the empty ones enter the mine by another set. As the full trucks come out thev empty th.:. ■ > >< into the bin. In the bins we saw men filling up trucks for a waiting train. One of the miners coming off duty told us nil about the history of coal, and he was even so good as to walk on to the beach and find a piece of coafi-ike substance which is not completely formed into coal. We returned to our company, and once more

set oil on our travels for home, via Runanga. We arrived in Runanga at 4 p.m„ so instead of waiting for the train we decided to wn’k—only three of us. We were at the i-mile peg when the others in lhe train passed, us. On the King s Birthday we went for a walk around the old Marsden. The scenery around this track is beautiful. There are some beautiful sights around there. Well, I owe such a number of my correspondents letters that I think I had better finish this.—Yours truly,

VA (Greymouth). [What a busy and eventful time you had at the birthday party, VA! I can imagine how successful it was, and I congratulate you on winning the silver cup. The description of your walk in the holidays is also very interesting. Tbe slide down to the beach would add greatly to tbe joy of the day, I am sure. Adventures like that always do. Thank you for telling us about the coal mining, a subject of great interest to all. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —At last I pick up my pen to write to you. I am so sorry I have not written sooner, but you know I never seem to have any time to spare. The weather here has been fair for these last few weeks. I am in Standard VI this year, and I came first in the examination. We have been back at school for a few'weeks now. I was at home from school one day, because I was not feeling very well. I am reading a book called “ Sylvia’s Victory,” and it is very interesting. Have you read it? We have two little white kittens. They are so playful. I wonder if you would mind giving me names fot them. News is scarce just now, so I will close with kind regards to all the Little Folk and your own dear self.—Yours truly. THISTLE FLUFF (Herbert). .

[lf you come first all the year you Will be dux of the school, Thistle Fluff. That would be splendid. I have not read “ Sylvia’s Victory.” What is it about? I think Bobbin and Cuddles would be good names for your playful little kittens. Do you? —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —We have been having son e very hard frosts lately, and they will continue for a while yet. I am sorry to say the high school hockey team came nowhere in the tournament, as they won four games, lost one and drew one, but as a consolation they beat Columba College three points to nil. I would not like to be the raceman on a day like'this. Dad is a raceman, and his round starts at Mutton Town. Mutton Town is the name of the plijee where most of the men camped during the time of the Dunstan ,rush. It obtained its name from the fact that mutton was the first thing sold to the men cumped there. The races which >:lad look after cover a large area, and lie lias to walk over most of this, as it is too hiliy to ride the motor bicycle. At the top of Mutton Town Hill, before, you enter Mutton Town, a weir is erected, and from this weir dad has to gauge the Water into each of the separate races. From the top of the hill to the bottom are concrete steps, over which the water runs. The water runs over these steps at an even rate, no matter whether there is a large or small volume. At the entrance to each man’s property is a box, and from this the amount of water the man requires is gauged. During the water season the raceman has to go round his races every day (Sunday included).. but once the season is over he goes only occasionally. The water required for these races is obtained from the Manuherikia River, which flows past our place, and in which we swim in summer. I wrote to A Young Highland Rover, who wished to correspond with me, but she has not answered my letter yet. Well, I will draw this to a close and leave room for someone else. Kindest regards to all Little Folk and yourself.—Yours truly. WESTCLIFF-ON-SEA (Alexandra). [Never mind, Westcliff-on-Sea. Even if your team did not win it played well, aud that is all that matters. I also shou: 1 not like to be a raceman in this weather. It must be very cold indeed. your father in good health? What you ten me of his work interests me very much, as I knew nothing about it before. Thank you for your description. I hope A Y’oung Highland Rover will write to you as soon as she sees this, as she asked t' correspond with you. —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —I thought I would, pen you a few lines and tell you about my rather unusual experience the other week. Our cat, of which we are very' fond, was missing one day. We did not take much notice of this, as he usually stays away awhile when he goes hunting. The next day, however, we were growing anxious, and, strangely, that night I dreamt he was caught in a trap near the river. The following day I resolved to look for him. I went to -the bottom of our paddock, but seeing nothing of him I decided to look at the place which was shown in my' dream. To get to this place I had to cross a swamp, and in doing so lost one of my shoes. This, however, did not hinder me. I then had to work my way in and out of gorse bushes, calling the cat by its name as I went. At last I received an answei, and made my way to where the sour.l came from, and much to my' joy saw him sitting beside a trap on a bank at the entrance' to a rabbit burrow. As I was minus a shoe I could not free him from the trap, so picked them both up, and when I arrived home I took him and the trap over to our neighbour, and he freed him from it. I have finished working a supper cloth, so have been spending these last few nights reading, as I have run out of fancywork. I read “ Red Ashes.” “ Yesterday’s TFhrvest,” both by Margaret Pedler, and “ The Man Under Authority,’’ by' Ethel M. Dell. They were all very* interesting, but I like Margaret Pedler’s books best. I went to the dance here on the King’s Birthday, and had a good time. They' do most of the latest dances here. 1 would sooner have a few more sets these cold nights. Well, as time is passing, I shall draw this to a close, with love to the Little Folk and vourself.—Yours truly, LADY BURSTALL (Alexandra).

[I consider that a most interesting experience, Lady Burstall, and one you should try' to remember all your life. If you had not had your dream your poor puss would have died. It was splend.d that you could go and find him like that. Did he not try to bite you when you carried him with the trap on his paw? I have not read any of the books you mention, so cannot say if I agree with you in liking them. —DOT.]

_ Dear > Dot, —As it is such a long time since I ■wrote a letter to your page 1 thought I should like to write a few lines now. I always enjoy reading the Little Folk’s letters, as they' are very interesting. I have had a bad attack of whooping cough, which kept me absent from school for two weeks. So I will have to settle down to some hard study now that I have recovered enough to go to school again. One of my schoolmates recently bought a little pony to ride to school on. It is black in colour, and has a. long tail and mane. There were seven inches of snow up here recently. I close with kindest regards—Yours truly, ,

HIGH MOUNTAIN LADDIE (Arrowtown). [I am pleased io hear from you again, High Mountain Laddie, and hope your whooping cough is quite better now. Have you a pony? I have not, but I should dearly like a little black, one with

a long tail and mane. Did you make a snowman with the snow? —DOT.]

Dear Dot, —It is such a long time since I wrote to you last, but I have not forgotten your page. The weather has been very changeable here lately, the mornings being very cold. I do not care to get up early. I was 17 years old on the fifteenth of this month. I have a little black and brown pup, and would like a name for it, please. Well, as I have not much to say, I will close now with love to you aud all the Little Folk. —Yours truly, PEACH PIE (Herbert).

[I am glad you have not forgotten me, Peach Pie, for I have not forgotten you. Y r es, it is hard to rise on some of these cold mornings. I think Bobolink would suit the pup —or “ Link ” for short. — DOT.] ¥ ¥ ¥

Dear Dot, —Please may I join your happy band of Little Folk? I am in Standard 111 at school. We have ajiew school, and it is a very comfortable "one. It is about half a mile nearer our home than the old one. I am reading a book called “The Wind in the Willows.” Have you read it? We have four cows milking. I help to give them hay at night. There was a light fall of snow here the other day, and I played snowballs next day. My father and the men were sawing wood one Saturday for-the winter. I like reading the Little Folk’s letters. I am eight years old, and I shall be nine on August 24. Love to yourself and all the Little Folk. —Yours truly, DREAMY DIMPLES (Kurow).

[You may certainly join, Dreamy Dimples. Have you dimples and are you dreamy? I should think so from your name. Yes, I have read “ The Wind in the Willows.” Do you like Mole? He is a dear, is he not? Snowballing is great fun if played with dry loose snow. Sawing wood makes one warm on a cold day.—DOl.]

Dear Dot, —Once again I take up my pen to write to you. Time is flying past on wings, and the shortest day is drawing -hear. There have been some white frosts these last few mornings, but they are followed by beautiful sunny days. One frost nipped all my cinerarias, so since then I have covered them at nights and hope that they will live. As they were in a very sheltered place, I did not think the frost could harm them. It is a shame, for they w’ere just coming into flower. Flowers are becoming scarcer now, but so far the chrysanthemums have . not been affected by the frost. They are making a bright show. There are also primroses, violets, antirrhinums, and other scattered blooming. One day a friend .and I spent the afternoon scrambling through the bush. We set off with the intention of climbing down through a pretty gully of tree-ferns, only stopping to gather a few ferns. The first part of the bush was all manuka scrub, too high for us to see over, and somehow we missed the tree-ferns and wandered on too far. We did not notice our mistake until we arrived on the beach and looked round us. We found we had some distance extra to walk home, so we had to hurry. All ended well, as we arrived in time for tea. We had a great time, but I am afraid we managed to get rather dirty and dis-hevelled-looking. In the school holidays two* young friends stayed here, and we had some fine fun. It seemed quiet after they left. Had it been fine one Saturday recently, we were going to spend the day in Havelock. However, it became very stormy, so all our plans fell fiat. I have.just finished reading a book by Allen Raine entitled “ The Welsh Singer,” and I liked it very well. With such long evenings there is plenty of time for reading and fancywork. I am' working a New Zealand greeting cushion cover now.. It is a black one, and is difficult to do, as the design rubs off. There is a good deal of working in it, so it will keep me busy for a while. I have not heard from some of my Little Folk correspondents for a long while, but Early Riser, A Popular Schoolgirl, and Black-eyed Susan write regularly. I took some snapshots a few days ago, and have sent them away to be developed. I am eager to see how they turn out, as they are the first I have taken for a long time. The birds seem to be coming closer to the house now that their food is becoming scarcer. There seems to be hundreds of sparrows about, and they take all the seeds I put in and neglect to cover. I will say “Au revoir ” for the present. Best wishes to the page. —Yours truly, PELORUS JACK (Picton). [l'm sorry that the frost hurt your cinerarias, Pelorus Jack, for cinerarias are such rich-looking flowers that they make a great difference to the appearance of a garden in winter time. You seem to have plenty of other flowers, however. I am very fond of primroses. These long winter nights are indeed for fancyworkers, and lure one to sit by the fire and make all kinds of pretty things. You seem to have had a jolly time in the bush. I was amused to read that “ All ended well, as we arrived in time for tea.”—DOT.] OUR NEW MEMBERS. Dot extends a special -welcome to the following Little Folk who have written to the page for the first time this week:— Bonnie Bessie Bunter (Whare Flat). Cowboy Bob (Berwick). Dreamy Dimples (Kurow). MANY HAPPY RETURNS. Dot wishes many happy returns of the day to — Golden Sunbeam, who was nineteen on 1 June 6. Peach Pie, who was seventeen on June 15. Magnesia, who will be eight on June 19. Pretty Fantail, who will be eleven on ' June 21. i NOTES. j Young Highland Rover. —I submitted ’ your photograph to the editor. Thank . you for sending it.—DOT. Queen of Hearts.—The address you ask ; for is Care of Box 20, Garston.—l)OT.

Violet Thompson—Would you please send me your nom de plume and address? I have a letter to be forwarded to you as soon as I know where you are to be found. —DOT.

Lady Carew. —Thank you for your address and for the “Little Bit of Cam' bridge.” The former I have sent to “ Mountain Maid the latter lam keeping for myself. It is delightful.—DOT.] 1 AUTOS. As the Little Folk inserting the following autos do not know the addresses of the companions with whom they wish to correspond, it is necessary that those whose names are mentioned in the autos should send the first letter.—DOT. ¥ ¥ ¥ Cook’s Cobber (M. Carnegie, Riverside, Milton) wishes to correspond with Golden Star of Westland and L’lnconnue. ¥ ¥ ¥ The Maid of the Morn (Florence Turner, Waihao Downs) wishes Jolly Glad to write to her again. ¥ ¥ ¥ Professional Runner (Ron Hope, Box 30, Otautau) wishes to correspond with any Little Folk between the ages of 16 and 21 years. ¥ ¥ ¥ Thistle Fluff. (Carrie Anderson, Herbert) would like to correspond with Italian, Irish Shamrock, and A Lass Frae Auld Ayr. She also wishes Dad’s Daisy to write again. ¥ ¥ ¥ Blossoming Cherry (Ena Thompson, Ringway Ridges, Otautau) would like to correspond with Golden Leaves, Nigella, and any other Little Folk between the ages of 15J and 17. She will answer all letters.