page 46

Leading New Zealand Newspapers.

page 47

page 48

“Because,” said Johnny Black, “anybody who did see it had something nasty happen to them. Let me see,” he went on, “there was Mr. Wattle, the Turkey. He saw it a few days before Christmas and he disappeared on Christmas Eve and was never seen any more. There was Mrs. Mallard, the Duck. She saw it one night in April and was never seen again after the first of May. Then there was a cousin of mine, William Black, he was very friendly with a man who had some fruit trees, oh, and a lot of other birds, it really is most unlucky to see a white bird with fiery eyes after dark —it might be the Honourable Hoot's ghost!”

The Sparrowdenes were all very quiet after Johnny Black had finished his story; they listened to the little creepy sounds that trees make at nightfall and shut their eyes tight—even Harold.

“Oh, well,” said Johnny Black presently, “it's nearly bedtime. Let's go down to the drying-green and see if there is a snack for supper.” But the Sparrowdenes thought they would stay where they were, and Johnny Black flew off by himself.

When he got to the drying-green he ate a few crumbs which he found lying about, and was about to set off home again when he spied a tin standing by the wall of the cottage. It was an interesting looking tin, and being by nature very inquisitive he wanted to know what was inside. It was too dark to see by flying over the top of it, so he settled on the edge, and the next thing he knew it had overbalanced and he was floundering in a big puddle of whitewash.

‘There's a trick to play on a poor innocent bird!” he cried in disgust. “Now I'll have to go to bed all wet.” He shook himself and flapped his wings and took a turn or two round the drying green, but it being so dark he bumped into the clothes prop, which made him very angry.

It was while he was flying up and down trying to get himself dry, that young Harold Sparrowdene up in the Macrocarpa Tree decided it was silly to sit there with his eyes shut just because Johnny Black had told them a ghost story, especially if you weren't sleepy. So he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was a terrible white bird flying up and down the drying grèen.

“Oo-er!” he gasped, “it's the Honourable Hoot!” and he began to shiver and shake so much that he woke up his brother Spencer.

“L-l-look,” he cried, “it's the Honourable Hoot.”

“I won't look,” said Spencer, “I don't want to disappear.”

But he did look all the same and the pair of them saw the white bird stop suddenly in mid-flight and then turn towards the old Macrocarpa Tree, and as he came they saw his eyes flashing angrily in the darkness.

“Oh, Honourable Hoot,” they cried, “we didn't mean to see you. We don't want to disappear on Christmas Eve, and we don't know anyone with fruit trees.”

Their cries woke the other Sparrowdenes up, and they all flew out of the tree when they saw the white bird, and fluttered up and down in the darkness in a great state of excitement.

But the white bird settled on a branch and shook himself, scattering drops of whitewash in all directions.'

“It's all right,” he called, “it isn't the Honourable Hoot, it's me, Johnny Black, I found a tin of whitewash!”

So the Sparrowdenes came back to the Macrocarpa Tree and settled down again, but they were very nervous all night, and ever after that the young Sparrowdenes came home before dark, which is one of the reasons why they have grown up to be such fine birds as they are to-day.

Amongst the many wedding presents received by a certain happy pair in Auckland recently was a huge tin of cigarette tobacco, and as both the young people adore cigarettes, this very unconventional bridal gift was greatly appreciated by them. It was something new in wedding presents, which too often consist of things the recipients don't care a button for, and could very well do without. The accompanying card read: “May all your troubles end in smoke!” And, to cap all, the contents of the tin proved to be Riverhead Gold—the finest cigarette tobacco money can buy! It's one of the five famous “toasted” brands so popular with smokers of both sexes. Another very choice cigarette tobacco is Desert Gold, while the three other genuine toasted brands. Cut Plug No. 10 (Bullshead), Cavendish and Navy Cut No. 3 (Bulldog) are unequalled for the pipe. All are practically harmless—that's what toasting does! —and for flavour and bouquet their equals have not yet been manufactured. But take care when you buy! Several worthless imitations are about. Give them a miss!^*