OUR OWN PUZZLE

Southland Times, Issue 21091, 24 May 1930, Page 23

OUR OWN PUZZLE

When Cousin Bruce Godward came up to see me during the week quite a number of Little Southlanders who met him in my room informed him that his Little Southlandcr cross-word puzzle was much too hard for them. He explained, of course, that it was much more difficult to make a puzzle round a given pattern than to be able to fill in spaces as one goes along—and of course I agree with him. It is. ' Nevertheless, I can agree with those other cousins, too, who said it was difficult. I am only glad I didn’t have to solve it; because it would be very bad for Cousin Betty’s reputation amongst Little Southlanders if she had. to admit defeat in a matter of this sort. Cousin June Perry’s was not only the first solution I received —it was the second last—and her solution was quite correct except for the pardonable substitution of “myth” for “lore.” Well done, June. I have sent the prize of 2/6, therefore, to Cousin June Perry (13), 101 George Street, North Invercargill.

Having each vainly protested that he had a sore throat, they had recourse to the time-honoured method and "tossed up.” Pat lost and commenced abruptly. “Do you see that star there that seems to wink at us?” “That’s a twinkling star,” interposed Charles knowingly. Freezing the interrupter with a stare, Pat continued. “That is really an eye of God through which He can watch for thieves and strike them dead with a thunderbolt when stealing.” “I suppose it is true?” asked Charles. - “Of course,” said Pat, and proceeded to tell them entirely fictitious tales which he had heard of thieves being found killed by thunderbolts. “I’m going to return this water-melon,” said Charles and immediately set about doing so. After the water-melon had been returned, they set off on the quest for fruit. Stealthily they crept down the road and cautiously essayed to get through the barbed wire which surrounded the orchard. Charles sacrificed the greater part of his trousers and a portion of his shirt for the sake of his stomach, but still crept on, the thought of the apples looming before him. Overhead the twinkling star looked down with a knowing smile. At last they reached the trees and commenced to enjoy themselves. ' For a while nought was heard but the crunching of apples, then suddenly there came a strangled gasp from Ginger. “What’s the matter?” asked Charles gently kicking him. “Don’t make all that fuss over eating a grub or the owner will hear us.” “It’s not that,” said Pat, "but that star is just shooting a thunderbolt straight at us. We’re thieves, you know,” and fled wildly, the others close on his heels. Some say it was a falling star, but the orchard raiders ever afterwards congratulated themselves on successfully escaping from the wrath of the twinkling star. —2/6 and 3 marks to Cousin Graham Witt (15), 159 Lindisfarne Road, Invercargill.

—Highly Commended.—

him suitable instructions, Plavimo went on his way, flying through the sky to the region of twinkling stars. How great was the astonishment of the onlookers as they saw, to their amazement, Plavimo, fitted with a pair of wings, fly high above their heads. But they knew that Platissamo always had some mysterious plan, and they waited with anxiety for the consequences of the scene.

The little fairy princess, Peggiano, was very, very ill. Her royal parents had called in the assistance of the best and most experienced doctors and physicians in Fairy-land, but, even they were unable, to render any help. ’ Now, as this little Princess was very pretty, she was also, as would be expected, very popular with all her small subjects. Peggiano had beautiful golden locks, large and alluring sea-blue eyes, and a pale, fair, complexion. Her teeth were, as her favourite servant Plugo, kept continually saying, “as pearls taken from her mother’s beautifully studded crown.”

Princess Peggiano lay tossing and- moaning on her pretty bed. The King and Queen were weeping at the bed-side, while all the attendants were trying to comfort their little Princess by softening her pillow and smoothing the bed. The blinds were drawn aside and the window was open for the night was 'very. warm. The gentle breeze blew round the room, soft, soothing, and fragrant, and shook the leaves of the trees outside, making them shiver, as though they were afraid of some great giant or some event which was shortly going to happen. The sky looked like a great, black, wicked blanket covering the W’orld with its darkness, while here and there little stars peeped out through the gloom. One little star was laughing and twinkling more than the rest... .fine, majestic.... Princess Peggiano turned slightly, opened her eyes, and faced the window. For a moment she did not move, but, as she gazed awe-stricken at the sky, or, more especially at the twinkling star, she suddenly laughed outright. Everyone, as would be expected, was greatly amazed and all quickly hurried to the bedside. The Princess sat up, laughed again, and said, “Oh! look at the twinkling star! It seems to be laughing at me 1 Look how it twinkles!” Then, as her friends gazed, they understood how they bad been too solemn, and that it was things bright and happy that the Princess wanted, and, even to look at the little twinkliny, laughing star had cured her. Thus it was that Princess Peggiano was cured by the dream of that wise young fairy, Platissamo who sent his son to the twinkling star, telling it to twinkle as brightly as it could on a certain night. The fairies were so pleased that they held a great ball in honour of the recovery of their Princess. Since the great event, every fairy now wears a “Twinkling Star” badge, which means, “Always be bright and cheerful.” —2 marks to Cousin Jean Nichol (14), 166 Clyde Street, Invercargill. v —Highly Commended.— (2.) “Laddie!” said the ancient mariner grasping me by the coat-tails as I sought to pass. “Let me tell you the yarn of the Twinkling Star.” “Just a minute” I said “this yarn has nothing to do with the time when you saved the Shah of Persia’s life by swimming 10 miles with him between your teeth from a sinking ship, is it?” “No laddie’’ said the mariner lovingly massaging one of my coat buttons, “this tale has to do with the time when I was but a lad like you. “It was in —B7 when the Saucy Jane with a full cargo sailed out of Plymouth harbour, it was in —99 that, she returned. What took place in those twelve years I will now tell you. “I was the cabin boy on the Saucy Jane but the captain realizing my exceptional merits used to'take me into his confidence. “ ‘Jim’ he used to say, ‘I think I will never see Plymouth again, for the curse of the star is upon me, and this ship.’ “ ‘What is this curse?’ I asked with boyish wonder. “ ‘Sonnie’ he said, ‘it’s like this. In the days of King Alfred my ancestor was first mate on a privateer. One night while on duty he saw a whale following the ship. Being a reckless fellow he thoughtlessly fired at it, and killed it. A splash of blood shot high into the air and formed a bloodred star, which over, afterwards followed my ancestor. “My ancestor told the crew of his rash act, and they shunned him as one accursed, for the whale was a sacred animal to those simple Scottish seamen, and my ancestor had killed one! “Ever after that the red twinkling star seemed to grow more sinister tp my poor ancester. Finally he was found dead with a splash of blood shaped like' a twinkling star on his forehead. From then onwards every ancestor of mine has been found dead with the sign of the star on his forehead. “I am the last of the clan, and the star has at last found me out; it is even now

As she lay in great pain in her dainty bed, her pretty head tossing 'to and fro, and her golden locks becoming quite tangled, ail her little visitors decided that it was a dreadful thing to see their devoted Princess lying in such ijgony, and they decided that something must be done in order to restore the little Princess to her usual health and strength; but, as even the greatest physicians in the land -had failed, there did not seem to be much hope. However, one and all said that surely something could save her so they all thought their hardest to invent some cure which would restore their little beloved friend to good health again.

Th'e market-place is the field of discussion with very excited and talkative people

shouting and laughing with fervour and excitement as the great news spreads. “Have you heard the latest?” shouts someone, as a new-comer joins the merry throng. “No, no, but whatever is thp matter? Why all this excitement ? Surely Peggiano is not cured?” “Not yet, friend, not yet, but it won’t be long before she is, I tell you. Just a few minutes ago, Platissamo ran up to me, as I was the first at the market-place this morning, and said, ‘Plugo, I have had a dream, by which I believe I have obtained an inspiration to cure our fairy Peggiano,’ Now, do you wonder that we are excited?” “No, no, my dear Plugo. How absolutely wonderful.” and with this exclamation she caught hold of Plugo, and swung him round and round the market-place, until she became too giddy to stand up, whereupon she sat down and cheered, “Hurrtfh. hurrah!” while the rest of the crowd joined in the last cheer. Now, all this time, while the little inhabitants were thus making merry Platissamo was in his study racking his. brains as to how to carry out his intentions. He had dreamed that he was soaring through the air so very much absorbed in the surroundings, that he did not notice how high be was flying. He woke with a start when he saw, not very far from him, the stars. Now, as he advanced, be noticed that one little star, more than the rest, winked and twinkled at him. He was so dazed by its grandeur that he was hurriedly in the act of descending, when the little star seemed to beckon to him, and say, “Now my dear friend, I see that your cherished Princess is very ill, and that nobody can save her-. I know what is wrong. Everybody is ,too solemn. There is no brightness about her, and that is the very thing she needs. Now, it would not be very appropriate for you to go into her room and laugh and be joyful, but I tell you that....” The rest was their secret and Platissamo was planning very hard to try and make his dream come true. He called his little son, Plavimo, and, after giving

watching me.” With that the captain broke down and wept. I I comforted him in my simple way by pouring a bucket of water-over him, and then went on deck to see the star.

Sure enough there it was twinkling like a blood-red eye, directly above the captain s cabin. . \ Next morning the captain had aged visibly, and at breakfast refused a second helping of porridge. One could see he was hard-hit. Then the star which was still shining even in the day time became brighter and brighter, while the ship seemingly affected by it shuddered and stopped. The captain sat sullenly in his cabin eating little and doing nothing but mumble curses at the picture of his ancestor which hung before him. For three years we lay becalmed doing no work, only playing quoits and listening to the curses of the captain. The star still twinkled at us in a sinister manner, while the captain gradually wasted away. This life soon palled on me and I induced the captain who had aged so much that he was now in his second childhood to take the crew on a neighbouring island while I who seemed immune from the curse of the star sailed back to England to get help for my comrades. Three years later I arrived in England and to-day am still raising money to fit out a ship to go and rescue my comrades. Could you spare me 5/- sir? It’s for a good cause.” It had been a good story so I paid the ancient mariner his price and sauntered off thinking— On the way home I bought an evening paper and saw two interesting items of news. The first was that twenty, men with stars cut in their foreheads had been found dead on a lonely island. The second item was that a new blood red comet had been found, directly above the island on which were the dead bodies. —Cousin Graham Witt (15). —Highly Commended.— The inside of the tent was dark and damp while the faint strumming of banjos and the echo of dusky voices singing crept in at the opening. Beyond lay the cotton fields with their moisture laden atmosphere and their swarms of mischievous mosquitoes. At the end of the field a camp fire glowed red through the dusk showing up the shadowy forms of the swaying darkies. Chako. lay on the straw in the corner of the tent and thought over his past life. He was a queer blend of humanity, and although he had already caught a hasty vision of the swiftly flowing river of immortality he could yet call up a smile as he pictured his changing life of old from a poverty stricken wanderer to a busy merchant, from a busy merchant to a scholar, from a scholar to an astronomer, from an astronomer back to a wanderer again and lastly to the life of a slave. He had reached the end of his line of remembrances and was beginning to ponder. vaguely on the promises of the heavenly future when the strumming of the old banjos was softened until only a silvery quiver floated from the camp fire and a voice, clear as the crystal spring, rang out the dear old melody “If I were a beautiful Twinkling Star.” Chako’s eyes moistened and a- look of rapture suffused the sunken cheek. “Father, what is it?” asked little Taimi in puzzled excitement. “It is the Twinkling Star my boy! Remember, as long as you live, remember, and be guided by The Twinkling Star.” “I will father,” answered Taimi. Thus ended the life story of Chako and thus began the real life of his little son Taimi. Taimi sat beside the camp fire with his banjo on his knees and listened to his comrades singing of the Kentucky dreamland. No longer could he make his voice roll out as in days of yore when his youthful life had been filled with hope and with the mysterious message of Chako. The years had brought no joys to Taimi who was forced to rise at daybreak and toil all day in the hot, moist cotton fields under the glare of the bright red Indian sun and under the lash of the merciless whipdriver, and the wonder of the Twinkling Star had ceased to be. When the glorious yellow moon slid silently across a blood red sky and tipped the land with crimson where was a twinkling star ? Only a. few dull stars like old three-penny pieces dotted the path for the wonderful lady moon, and no one of them could be said to be even a little brighter than the rest.

Taimi w - as about to retire to his rough shelter when someone suggested singing a little song of cheer and a bright dusky maiden straight away started to sing the song that daily rang in Taimi’s ears and as he joined her in singing the last few lines all his griefs seemed to roll away and the magic of his father’s words came back and throbbed through his head with unearthly power. Instinctively he gazed upwards, and there, right above his little hut, a tiny star twinkled brightly as if it would cover the whole grey world with its feeble light. As the yellow rays of the moon shed a peaceful light over those scenes of cruelty and death a fine mist started to fall and before long it was impossible for one to see even a yard ahead. Taimi crept out in glee and raised his eyes once again to heaven. There, far up in the heights the little star still twinkled through the gloom! Taimi grasped his small bundle of goods tightly and moved stealthily onwards.

The brilliant foot lights dazzled the eyes of the audience while the very air was alive with melody and gaiety. Taimi sat in the front seat and stared stupidly. So this was New York! Was it for this he had left his brothers and outwitted the crafty guards? Was it for this he had left the dear old camp fire? The eyes of Taimi became blurred. He did not know that the footlights had been dimmed and the proceedings changed. He did not even know that a funny old man dressed up as a March Hare was bowing to the audience and holding up a long stick with a brilliant silver star on the end of it, but when a high sharp voice piped up “Twinkle, Twinkle little Star ” he gripped the seat hard. A month later Taimi was back toiling in the fevered cotton lands and receiving more than his fair share of lashes from the blood bringing stock whip. He who could have been a free man was just a slave once more! But Taimi cared not for freedom. He had never been free excepting when he had stolen a short taste of liberty, and he had no desire for more. He was content with his lot, for, after the day of toil and trials there came the night time when the camp fire illumined all the ground where darkie voices were singing and dear old banjos strumming while high in the heavens Taimi could watch and be guided by “The Twinkling Star.”

—2 marks to Cousin Beatrice Wilsey (16) Riverton.