A Little World for Little People

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 738, 10 August 1929, Page 35

A Little World for Little People

FRIENDSHIP IS A STEADY LIGHT SHINING IN DARK PLACES

HOP-SCOTCH

“nLEASE,” said the Little Thought, “I want a music box for 1 my next birthday, and please, Dawn Lady, when is my next birthday 3” ‘‘You have a birthday every day of the week,” answered the Dawn Lady, “but you never seem to grow auy older. Why do you want a music box i” “Because they are full of strange little tunes, and I know what they say. A Sunbeam has written a poem about one. Here it is. . . . I’m sorry I opened it, but I knew you wouldn’t mind. My fingers began to prickle when I touched the envelope and, anyway, I like to help as much as I can.” “That is very good of you,” answered the Dawn Lady, reading the poem with a pleased smile. “And you shall have a music box full of tunes exactly like this.” “Goody, goody,” laughed the Little Thought, happily. “Mister Doorkeeper, I’m going to have a music box!” “But,” said the Doorkeeper sternly, shaking his feather duster at the entrance of the Place-of-You-Xever-Can-Tell, “how can you have what you are?” “I don’t understand you,” murmured the Little Thought. “This is no time to ask questions. You should have made a statement. Oh, do be careful! A poor little riddle was clinging with both hands to the end feather in your duster, and you have shaken him off. He has run back squealing into the Plaee-of-You-Never-Can-Tell.” “Well he shouldn’t have been bird-nesting in my feather duster,” laughed the Doorkeeper. “I shall keep him under lock and key for ten yfears, and by that time he will have forgotten his own answer.” “How cruel.” protested the Little Thought. “I can hear him crying with fright. Please let him come out and play hop-seoteh with me.” “Oh, very well,” sighed the Doorkeeper. “You always do get your own way. Little Thought. Bring him back at half-past five, and take good care of him.” “When I have helped the Dawn Lady to read some stories I shall be able to play with you,” said the Little Thought, taking the trembling riddle gently by the hand. “Can you play hop-scotch ?” “What is it different from?” asked the riddle. “Oh, it’s different from everything else. You’re sure to like it.” “Do you know the difference between a liorse-chestnut and a r apple dumpling?” asked the riddle, urgently. “Xn,” answered the Little Thought, sadly. “Well,” confessed the riddle, bursting into tears, “I’m that conundrum, and I was trying to escape from the Place-of-You-Never-Can-Tell because I have been living there under false / -P , r etences. Please, please, H J ouaHv never ask me. Never mention ■ ■ me to a soul. . . . You see. . . . i ——" I have no answer 1”