THE CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 42, 7 January 1921, Page 12

THE CHILDREN'S COLUMN.

(By La Comtesse de Armil).

MATER'S LETTER BOX. Mater invites children to send in stories for this column, or correspondence which will be replied to through these columns. All matter to be clearly written in ink, on one side of the paper only. Name, age, and addres3, must be alwaj'-s given, and correspondence directed to "Mater," care of Editor, "The Digger," Box 310, Invercargill. "PILOT."

Sandy Dicks' dog was nothing to look at. It was once called a cross between a garden rake and a door mat; but the man who said it went down on his back and stayed there quite a time. No; he' was nothing to look at. Sandy didn't pretend that he was. But there was more in Pilot, as Sandy would say than common men could see. There was a time when Sandy himself would kick any dog across the street that got in his way — a time when he lived for himself, and reckoned every other creature in the universe his natural enemy. But that was not his fault. It was his bring. ing up. He had never had a friend in ffis life until he churnmed up with Pilot. "Aye, and I tell yer that there dog's done more for me," he would say, "than all the human beings put together. When first I see him I used to kick him aside. I once threw him two bits of red meat and then the red end of a cigar. Jie didn't seem to hear no ill feeling, either. He just took me as if I was the noblest man he had ever &et eyes on. I tell yer, there wasn't a low-down trick I didn't play on him. I hurt him till the game wasn't worth playing— till I got plumb tired of it — whilst he guarded me day and night. "At last, one day I took his head between my hands — I was sitting on the side of my camp'bed — and I says to him, 'Are you a fool?' I was looking straight into his eyes. He wagged his tail and licked my wrists. Then it came to me all of a Sudden. "God," I says, "he loves me!" and rolled on to the bed. What I saw in those eyes just made me feel the lowest cur on God's earth when I remembered all that I had done to him. No one had ever loved me before, you see, so I couldn't understand it at first. But I couldn't sleep a wink that night — kept looking over at the little patch curled up against the door. Once I called him. I had not given him a name then — just said, 'Here!' I put my hand out to feel for him, and he licked the back of it, and sort of waited for orders — to see if I wanted anything; then "he threw himself down again over against the door with a big sigh as if he was happy. "Do you know what it feels like when you begin for the first time to love anything? I didn't till then. I had never loved anything before — I thought love all rot. But it is a strange feeling, and the next day I felt a bit ashamed lest the other fellows in the diggin's might find it out. But I don't care now who knows it. Old Pilot has steered me to the right port. And he's done for me what never a sky pilot could have done; 'cos I would'h't listen to them — he has taught me that without love the world isn't much of a place any way." THE LITTLE SILVER RING. A certain wise man had a beautiful little daughter. When the little girl was about to have a birthday which would bring her age for the first time into two figures, he sent for her and said, "My daughter, I have a gift for you to-day, and with it go three wishes. The gift is a silver ring. Cut on the inside are thrae circles to remind you of the three wishes. To everyone else the circles will look empty, but to you they will always contain my three wishes. The first wish is this., that your mind may be like a river ; the second wish is that your whole life may be like the flowers ; and the third is that your body may grow like the oak-tr,ee." Her father then kissed her and added, "\vhat the wishes mean you must find out for yourself." The little girl was rather puzzled, but the morning was bright and sunny, so, with her new ring on her finger, she trotted off for a ram'ble in the woods. On the way she passed over a bridge across the river. She stopped a moment to look down at the water, and the little wavelets splashed together gently and whispered, "Don't you see that the stream never ceases to move onwards?" "Yes," replied the little girl, "I know but why do you tell me that?" "Don't you see," the little wavelets replied, "that is why your father wants your mind to be like a river? If it stood still

it would become stagnant and unlovely." The little wavelets dashed away, and the little girl ran along through a field of wav. ing flowers. She bent down to smell them as she passed, and they rustled their blooms together and sang, "We are beautiful. We are beautiful. We are beautiful." "But why do you tell me that?" asked the little girl. "Don't you see," replied the flowers, "that your father wants your whole life to be the same." She sped on to the woods and soon spied a tall oak-tree. She climbed up into its friendly branches. The leaves whispered round her, and as the breeze shook them together she heard them say, "An oaktree grows upright and is very strong." "I know," said the little girl, "but why do you tell me that?" "Don't you see," replied the leaves, "that is what your father wants your body to be." So she wore the ring all her life, and whenever she saw the three circles she ra membered the three wishes and tried to make them come true.