Other formats

    Adobe Portable Document Format file (facsimile images)   TEI XML file   ePub eBook file  


    mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, June 1929

The Fairy Ring

page 51

The Fairy Ring

Dear Little Learners,—

Do you know, dears, there is a moral for everything. Think, little ones, of the unexpected exams. They mean that you all should work hard like your dear professors did when they were at university. When your dear professors were studying, they won all the prizes and also found time to join the Boy Scouts. And can't you guess? They learnt from Baden-Powell to be prepared. Now they want you to be prepared. Isn't that just charming of them? You say they looked so pretty in their gowns at the Capping Ceremony? Yes. dears, but you all must be very quiet or else they might not appear again. . . . Wouldn't that be just awful. And there would be no procession and no one to pass the time at the Post Office Square. However, dears you could all go to the Ritz for coffee and cups—or should it be cups of coffee?

Darlings, you all must remember the nice man at the Winter Show buildings last year. Well little ducks you will soon be meeting him again. He simply loves little learners, and is so sure that you enjoyed yourself last, you are going to set your exams, there again. Isn't that thrilling!! The sparrows—yes, they will be there again—chirping and everything.

Oh. darlings, now isn't it just delicious. The exam, fees are raised. You know the Winter Show buildings cost money, and so do Competent supervisors. For myself, I am too happy to say any more.

Love from


R.H.C.-k-z.—An irreverent noise or an irreverent silence!-we cannot say which is the more disedifying, dear one. Why don't you admonish them, darling? No I have never gone into the cemetery at night, but I am told that it is a perfectly lovely place to sit out a dance in.

Sinclair B.—But what an original entrance, darling! The soles of your feet looked quite wonderful. Yes, indeed, I do think it showed a total lack of artistic appreciation for "Dorrie" Leslie to swear so horribly over such a trifling thing as a few broken boards. Sit on him, dear one!

H.J.B-p.—It followed you around, didn't it, dear! You got rid of it as soon as you could, I suppose? Did the kind big men take you for a nice ta-ta?.............I'm sure you will enjoy your nice holiday, but do not let them keep you away from your little mates for too long, precious.

H-gh-t.—Are you a boy or a girl, sweetie? No, really, you mustn't-no matter how much they laugh. Remember, they whom the gods love- . . . Look under the clock to-night, birdie, and perhaps you will find a nice little Boyproof all for your very own self.

R-a N-l-n.—Yes really I think the back seat of a Fordy-Wordy is the sweetest place in the world to listen to fairy stories. Did the light disturb you, darling? Big Boy will turn the car the other way round next time if you ask him prettily.

C-ce W-st-n.—Not really on the wharf, before all those people, darling? What a string littlie sour you are! I think boxing people have such taking ways don't you?

A.H. I-w-n.—Are you really and truly going to join the Red Army, pet? I am sure you will make most tremendous strides. Do let me have a photo, of you in your regimentals . . . but, then, you do not care to wear them outside, do you, darling?

Bill F.r.-It was so clever of you to think of putting your arm around her waist, darling, to keep her from being dazzled by the headlights. Aren't these motor cars a nuisance sometimes!

page 52

M.O. Gth-e.—Naughty old things to get broken so easily as that! But, darling, you really ought to keep your toys off the road. Then nastly old motor cars wouldn't bump into them and run over them, and so on.

Bl-ck-r.—How I envy you, the lovely trips you had when you were in Auckland! Did they really cost a lot of money, dear? What a lot of little girls you must have met. Girls are not very good at walking, are they, dear one?

S. C-rm-k.—I'll tell you a secret, darling. I've a teeny weeny liking myself for playing on the roads. There is a perfectly lovely dirt-track in Glasgow Street. I think it would be ever so thrilling if all our roads were bumpety bumpety, don't you?

K.L.-l-r.—Did the boat really break under your weight, chicksie? My, what a fine, big lump you must be growing! . . . Oh, yes, do tell me about the First Fifteen. Aren't sports nice! I love them, too.

D.L.-t-h.—So you are now singing alto in the choir. If you cannot reach the top note, little one, catch it coming down.

W.J. H-ll.—How wonderful it must be to be an author. How splendid of you to tell people how to make money. Do you make much yourself? Dearest, your idea is positively delicious. What does Professor Hunter say about it?

G.R. P-wl-s.—So you are a lieutenant in the army? Now is that wonderful, and you can tell ever so many people to march. I heard someone say, "Thank God we have a Navy," but it can't be true. I won't believe it, darling.

W.D. F-dw-n.—You know the story about the medical professor. Well, little one, "there is a divinity that shapes our ends."

P.S. M-rt-n-Sm-th.—But you mustn't be rude to footballers. Now promise me you will speak to them prettily.

Dear Profairiel,—

I had such lovely adventures last Christmas holidays. The jolly old Crickct Association chased me all the way up the Manawatu, but couldn't catch me. One night while I was sleeping in a place called "Soft Drinks," I felt a hand on my foot. Square dinkum, I thought the Association had got me. I lashed out with my foot and aw, crimes, what do you think? A jolly old cat went flying out of the jolly window.

Can I come into the Ring, please? With love from—