STRANGE USE OF STAMPS

Manawatu Times, Volume LIV, Issue 7287, 14 October 1933, Page 11

STRANGE USE OF STAMPS

(Sent in by Uncle Phil).

“I think the strangest way of using stamps that I have ever known, was shown to me a year or two ago,” states a writer to a philatelic magazine. “It was a walking stick formed of thousands of stamps with a small hole punched through tlio centre and threaded on a small steel rod, and pressed tightly together. It had been planed and sandpapered down to about three-quarters of an inch in diameter, and varnished. It looked almost like a wooden stick, but was rathor heavy. Many years ago I saw a very pretty map of Australia formed of used postage stamps. Each Stato was formed by using the old Sta.to stamps in use before Federation.” , Makino Dear Hub, —I like my badge very much. I hope I shall see my letter in the paper. I like reading the Cogs’ letters. We are going to have a day in Palmerston very soon. I hope it will bo a nice, lino day. The wind is still blowing today. I like the spring days, the flowers are coming out now. The rfost is making the grass black and the lambs and cows have not much food left now. I will close now and I hope you and all the Cogs are well. I remain, your loving Cog, Ivybell I love the happy spring days, too, Ivybell. I am glad you like your badge. Makino. Dear Hub,—Hero I am again with the Skilltest worked out. What a glorious day it is, with not a cloud in the azure sky and the bright sun shining down on mother earth looking like a big ball of Are. There is a cool broezo blowing, and the petals of the peach tree fall to the ground, making a pink mat upon the green grass. When I awoke early one morning I could hear the sweet songs of the birds carolled forth from the hedge of maerocarpa trees. As I sat by my window the sweet breeze blew the perfumes of the flowers into my room making it nice and fresh. As nerve is scarce I must, close with love to you and all the Gogs, from Granny Bonnet. Thank you for the poem, my dear, it will be just the thing for our Animal Page. The days of spring are lovely, aren’t they? Oringi Dear Hub,—l am veTy sorry I have not written before. Thank-you very much for my prize money, which I received. We have nearly a hundred cows in now. Dad has only lost two cows in three years, but we hope not to lose any more. I have just come back from the bush, whore I found some ferns and young trees. This is only a short note as I have no more to tell. With love from Skipper I was very glad to hear from you again, Skipper. I love the bush, don't you? Dad is very uucky to have lost only two cows in throe years. SPRING MORNING Now the misty wood discloses Wrinkled leaves of wee prlmrosos, While the birds, they flute aud sing: < ‘Build your nest, for here is spring! ” All about the open hills Daisies show their pleasant frills, Washed and white and newly spun For a festival of sun. Like a blossom from the sky, Drops a yellow butterfly, Dancing down tho hedges grey, Snow-beateu till yesterday. Squirrels skipping up the trees, Smell how spring is in tho breeze, While the birds, they flute and sing: "Build your nests, for hero is spring! ” —Original—Precious Diamond NOISES I love to hear the patter of busy, hurrying feet; I love to hear the clatter of horses’ shodden feet; I love to hear the chatter of children in the street; I love to hear tho bandsman who on his drum does beat. I love to hear the rain come pouring, pouring down; I love to hear the rustle of a flimsy, silken gown; I love to hear an omnibus come rattling into town; But most of all I love the call of birds that flutter down. Original—Lobelia Apiti Dear Hub, —May I join your happy family? I am 14 years old and my birthday is on September 16. May I have "Simshnio Susie” for my penname? I will enclose three penny stamps for a badge. lam very interested in the Cogs’ Page. Love to yon nd all tho fellow Cogs, Peggy Swift You are very welcome, Sunshine Susie, You will have received your badge by now. Write to us again soon. THE FAIRIES One night when the moon was shining, And all the world was bright, I strolled into the garden, Where the fairies dance and sprite. Thero they were in a circle, Dancing with happy glee. And as I watched the party, A passing thought came to me. Here was I, so lonely, With nothing at all to do, And they were dancing happily, While the golden hours flew. So I approached tho circle, But alas! the deed was done, — Into the darkness of tho trees Every one had run. The tears were standing in my eyes, There is nothing more to be said. I sorrowfully went back to the house, And thence I went to bed. Original—by Fey. “Mummy, how do horses manage to climb trees?” “They don’t dear.” ‘‘Well, I heard Aunt Jane sav you were always finding mares’ nests! ”

One© there w* a little boy whose name was Robert Reece, And every Friday afternoon lie had to speak a piece. So many poems thus ho learned that soon he had a store Of recitations in his head, and still kept learning more. And now this is what happened: Ho was called upon one week, And totally forgot the piece he was about to speak. His brains he culgelled, not a word re* inained within his head. And so he spoke at random, and this is what he said: My Beautiful, my Beautiful, who stand est proudly by, It was the schooner “Hesperus"—the breaking waves dashes high 1 Why is the Forum crowded? What means this stir in Rome? Under tho spreading chestnut tree, there is no place like home. When Freedom from her mountain height cried, Twinkle, little star, Shoot, if you must, this old grey head, King Henry of Navarre. Roll on thou deep and dark-blue castled crags of Drachenfels, My name is Norval of the Grampian Hills, ring out wild bells. If you’re walking, call me early to be or not to be, Tho curfew shall not ring to-night! Oh woodman spare that tree! Charge, Chester, charge! On Stanley on! and let who will be clover, Tho boy stood on tho burning deck, but I go on for ever. By Caroline Wells in Saint Nicholas FUN CORNER Q. What happened to the man who swallowed a spoon? A, Ho couldn’t stir. Q. Where did Noah strike the first nail in the ark? A. On the head, —Sent in by Roverw “I say, Fred, wouldn’t it be a lark if a sfallow flew down a chimney?’’ “No, old man, it would be a swallow!’’ Q. What has a nose and no mouth! A. A boat. Q. What has a face and no nose! A. A clock. Q. What has no legs but runs very fast? A. A river. —Sent in by Bobs.