THE JUMBLE

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 340, 28 April 1928, Page 31

THE JUMBLE

The Jumble lived in a little house in a big wood. He was old and cross and lazy, and all the woodland creatures feared him because he always wanted his own way. The wood goblins were his slaves, and they had to stand under his window all day long waiting for orders. The Jumble had a curious way of giving orders. Instead of saying them as other people do, he would just put a notice out of the window. Sometimes it would read: “I am hungry; bring me something to eat,” or, again. “The squirrels annoy me; drive them out of the wood.” His servants never quite knew what their next duty was going to be, and their lives w r ere lived in constant uncertainty. As he grew older, the Jumble grew bolder. “Tell the sea to stop roaring,” his notices would read, or “Order the sun to stop shining; I find it too hot to sleep,” or, “Command the wind to remain silent; he is rattling my windows.” The little wood goblins were worried and perplexed. They knew that the forces of Nature would not listen even to the Jumble’s demands, and the sea went on roaring, the sun went on shining, and the wind went on rattling the windows. At last, knowing that they could do nothing more, the wood goblins went away. The next morning the Jumble held a notice out of the window: “I am hungry; bring me something to eat.” Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing happened. Then he looked out of the window, and found that his slaves had deserted him. In a rage, he drove his fist through the door, knocked down the walls, and shook himself free of his home. Then he began running about the wood looking for the goblins, but as Jumbles cannot live out of doors, he grew smaller and smaller every moment. Suddenly he vanished altogether, and a prickly thistle sprang up in his place. If ever you happen to see any goblins in a wood, you will notice that they give the thistles a wide berth, and always tiptoe past them, and now you know the reason. W.S.T.

but I hope the fairy Good Fortune will stand at your elbow. What splendid mushrooms. You are lucky to have so many. We call them “mushies” in Happy Town. They deserve a more dignified name, don’t you think?

Jean Farquhar, Auckland: I am delighted to find that you have heard the merry music of the Competition Bell, Jean. Many thanks for your drawing and letter. It is splendid that Sunbeam Betty Menzies is your friend. All the Happy Town people thank you for your kind messages, and send their best love in return. Audrey Seddon, Hamilton: If I am unable to find a copy of “Just So Stories,” Audrey, I shall look round the shops and make up a list as you suggest. There are some splendid annuals to be had just now, so perhaps you may decide on one of those. That is a charming little poem. You and Rosalie are clever young Sunbeams, and I hope to see much more of your work. My best love to you both. Nancy Waller, Manurewa: When the Woodpecker saw that long row of kisses all for him, he flew down and pecked them up in a trice. He is thinking of putting up a sign: “Under Sunbeams’ Patronage” above .his home in the Hollow Tree. Your picture of the Competition Bell, swinging among the green leaves of the Happiness Tree, is very pretty, and the Joyshop man is going to frame it and hang it in his window. Jean Mclndoe, her mother, Margaret Anderson, Jean Buckley a.nd Joyce Thomson will find that you have been thinking of them. Norman Lydster, Takapuna: The lit-.le spider is busy spinning a web across the doorway of the Place -of - You-Never-Can-Tell, Norman, but I don’t know what will happen to his home when the Doorkeeper comes out with his feather duster. Many thanks for the poem. My best love to this little Sunbeam. John Jamison, Mount Eden: Your beautiful dra.wing has just been delivered by a Pixie Postman, John, and everyone is admiring it. Yours is very dainty work. The Dawn Lady loves your letters, too, and is looking forward to receiving the next one. Bridget Hutt, Birkenhead: I was pleased to see this little girl coming down Tiptoe Street with a competition drawing for the Dawn Lady. How is brother Mick, and is he attending an art school? Yes, the Dawn Lady likes gardening, too. It is fine fun rooting out the cheeky weeds that think all the plots belong to them. They simply don't dare to grow in Happy Town. The Little Thought is very pleased with his portrait, and the “Moon Horse” is now tied up outside the Place-of-You-Never-Can-Tell. Patrick Woods, Edendale: I am glad to hear that you are going to become a Scout, Pat, and also that you are thinking of joining the ’Wigwam. No, one does not have to leave Happy Town to belong to the other club. You have

several years to spend yet in our little world for little people. Thank you very much for the riddles, Master Edendale. Jean Mclndoe, Hamilton: I have searched through all the letters for the weekly one from Jean, and I can’t find it. I think it is held up somewhere, and I have sent the Pixie Postmen hot-haste to look for it. The Little Thought reminds me that Jean has not missed a message in the Hollow Tree ever since she came down Tiptoe Street, so here is one for her all the same. Our best love, little lady. Nola Craig, Mount Albert: Examinations are a bother, aren’t they, N da? I heard from Norma Waller this week, and I expect your letter will arrive soon. How important Buz must be feeling. I think he should treasure that letter. Alban Tohill, Grey Lynn: Many thanks for your interesting letter, Alban. I love watching those baby monkeys at the Zoo. Aren’t they cunning little fellows? That is a quaint little poem. Are you fond of puppies, too? Jean Buckley. Mount Roskill: Patricia Sheridan and Frances McKenzie are ten, Betty Gardiner and June Price are nine, Leila Jacobson is eleven, and Zena Mills is thirteen. I do not know the age of Joy Danes. Jean Mclndoe, Nancy Waller, and Gay du Faur will find your greetings.