STORY TIME
RUSTLE, rustic, rustle—the sound of many pages being- turned, and the crisp spring -wind calls unheeded outside the Wigtvam. On the topmost bough of the birch tree a bird pays its homage to the morning, the green trail that leads past the Totem I’ole into the outer -world is in itself an invitation, but insde the Wigwam it is story time and the young spring day must wait. Yet here is spring entering unawares. How wise of Harvest Moon to take the quaintly decked pussy-willow tree as a subject for her story. ... So the first grey kitten sharpened its claws on the Golden Gatepost before beginning its journey into the world? And now it basks in the sun and pushes its little grey paws further and further out each day? Yes, of course, that exactly explains the pussy-willow tree. . . . Plying Cloud has been dealing in moon-rainbows. Tonight I shall look for that silver arch in the sky. Perhaps I shall even hear the voice of the speckled guinea-fowl calling from the shadows. Who knows? Rustle, rustle, rustle. . . . Oh, yes, it is story time. EEDPBATIIER.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19290821.2.166.2
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 747, 21 August 1929, Page 16
Word Count
186STORY TIME Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 747, 21 August 1929, Page 16
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