FOR THE CHILDREN.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2461, 27 March 1909, Page 9 (Supplement)

FOR THE CHILDREN.

JOE. “Thore’s a stranger in the paddock, Miss.” “A stranger, Margaret? Of what kind, man or beast?” “Oh, it’s just a little black horse J”

“A strange horse, Maggie?” said I, and was in the paddock in a few minutes, and saw a fine* young cob. “Come, boy,” I called in my blandest tones. In return he tossed his head, showed me his heels, and scampered off to the furthest corner.

I followed so that I might talk to him," which I did for about ten minutes, at tlie end of which he allowed me to approach, but not touch him. I left him for an hour, then returned with a bucket of water and some maize. He enjoyed'a drink, but he sniffed at my offer of corn, so I just talked to him again. Later I made a third visit, when he came up to me, smelt me, and allowed me to stroke his nose. “We are getting on,” I said. “Soon we’ll the best of friends, won't we?” Other hoi«*.,> ver© brought into the paddock later on, the cd i once showing the greatest aversion to the; man who brought thorn. He would not let a man come anywhere near him. They drove him up to the stables with the other horses, and served him with chaff, which he' scon:ed. Next morning we had another interview, followed at intervals by other visits, each time we became better acquainted. Then I captured him and led him out on to the lawn, and kept him about the grounds. Soon he followed me like a dog, wherever I went he came, but if a man came along he would tremble and decline all invitations to closer friendship. He had to be advertised as a foundling. Several came "to claim him , but as they did not describe his color and points correctly they were told that he was not their horse. After eight days his rightful owner arrived, and I learnt that he went by the name of “Joe.”

'“And why is he so timid?” I asked, ‘and why does he dread every man he ;ees?”

“I have not had him long,” replied Mr Gand, “but lie certainly trembles whenever my groom approaches him. It is not the groom that’s to blame, but a wild drover who used to ride him, and who mu.t lnre given him a rough time.”

“And what are you going to do with him?” I queHoned. “Oh,” he replied, “FU send him round to K s gtables. and let them drive him until he learns the ways of the road, then I’ll sell him.” “Poor Joe,” I protested, “those are tho worst stables in the city: he ll find he’ll have much more to learn than the ways of the road.” Two days later a young man came for him.. He objected to his presence and I had to go and put the halter round •his neck. “Poor little Joe,” I said, giving him a pat, “I am sorry indeed to have to let you go. .You’ll have to be a brave fellow and make the best of the ills of life. Now, Joe,” I continued, “give me a kiss!” Joe put up his black nose and rubbed my face, oh, so gently. The man saw, and was touched, and said: “Oh, poor chap, it is a shame to take you from the shade of these lovely trees, and this sweet grass!” J® “Aye,” I added, “he has had a taste of horses’ paradise, but you will not spoil my work, you will be good to him, and he will love you?" “I will, indeed,” replied the man, as lie led Joe away, and I have written this for our young friends who may have to do with what seems an obstreperous horse, that they may try patience and perseverance, with much gentle talking and so change him into a quiet, affectionate creature, such as Joe became . few days with AROHA.

littue queen constancy. It was tile night on which the fairies gathered yearly for their Iviug to choose the Queen for the flowers, Die fairies themselves had a new monarch this year, and great wonder was felt by all as to wliat blossom bo would choose for Queen of Flower Land. The sun was near its setting, lne skv was a sea- of amber overhead, while the real sea rolled in golden folds below. Every flower was smihug. the creamy • roses held up piou hices. One of their number had always been made Queen before ; they waited in haughty silence for to-night’s choice. The Fairy King came up along the line of blossoms. He passed slowly on, looking at all with kind, keen eyes. No; tho roses did not gam his favor. It was not one of their number be cliose as Queen. A pink poppy blossomed near tho roses, but tho Fairy King di no choose her, for he knew she was not a ladylike flower, but quite able to flu t and be rude to those of her neighbors who were more shrinking and shy than Sh Tho flower the .King chose was not a. beautiful one compared with many that he saw; but he chose it for a reason of his own, this new young Fan. V King. It was just a wee, modest bluebell, with its little face drooping slight!v from the sun. - ‘ “The meaning of your name is constancy,” he said. “Tone cxin^uvt through all things is one of life s greatest jewels, constant through lmai - break, distance, even shame. Lit e Constancy, you shall be Queen of the Flowers.”