Billy Boy is a small terrier. As bull terriers go he is a magnificent specimen. He was presented to his present master when he was full grown, and at once showed himself an affectionate animal, with a tender spot for children.
But, unfortunately, when he came in contact with other dogs, Billy proved to be anything but good natured. He insisted on wanting to fight every dog he saw, which was a very uncomfortable state of affairs, and made him extremely unpopular.
Eventually, he was sent to some friends who lived out of town, as his master thought he would have more freedom there and would not continually have to be chained up because of his quarrelsome habits.
Alas! The very first thing Billy Boy did was to put an unpleasant end to the house cat—an inoffensive creature. Then he made it his business to terrorise any village ‘pi’ which dared show its face in the compound, and there were many casualties.
But the village pi-dogs are clever animals, and when they discovered that they were no match singly for such a ferocious fighter as Billy, they took counsel among themselves and decided on a mass attack.
Learn his lesson
So, one evening, Billy bored with life, wandered out of the compound looking, it must be admitted, for a fight to liven things up a bit. He hadn’t gone far when he saw a likely adversary advancing towards him. Without hesitation Billy charged, and was surprised to notice that the dog didn’t run away but faced up to him bravely.
A scrap soon started, but before Billy had really settled down to things, he was suddenly attacked by all the dogs in the village, who had been waiting for this opportunity. To Billy it seemed that there were hundreds of snarling, snapping, growling dogs, but he was no coward and he put up a good fight.
But with all his pluck and stout heart, it would probably have been the end of him if his master, attracted by the noise, had not rushed to his rescue and with the help of some villagers beaten his opponents off.
Billy is now in hospital recovering from his wounds. His master hopes he has learned his lesson, and that he won’t be so aggressive in future, but with a fighting bull terrier one never knows—does one?
DREADFUL WEATHER
“Why doesn’t it rain?” said the ducklings,
“We do so wish it would rain!
We want to paddle in puddles
And swim on the pond again.
And now the clouds have parted
The sun is shining again.
It really is dreadful weather,
We do so wish it would rain!”
As for us, it often rains too much for our liking!
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MORNING AND NIGHT
Long ago, they say, neither Morning nor Night had suitable clothes to wear. They were both dressed in pale grey garments that were as dull and drab as ditch water. When they saw that the Earth was provided with an exquisite gown, they rebelled. They refused to play their parts unless they too were given clothes as beautiful and elegant, as the Earth. The gods and goddesses were greatly perturbed. They looked down anxiously at the Earth to see how she was dressed.
At that time, it was just the end of the monsoon season, and the emerald green robe. There were large tracks of green, intermittent with patches of soft brown mud, the whole surface was sprinkled over with gay, bright flowers. The moving waters of the rivers fluttered like metallic ribbons, the giant-like palm and coconut trees, that fringed the shore, swayed like huge fairy fans in the gentle breeze. The mighty oak spread out its new green coat. The gods, when they saw the earth, were amazed at its beautiful garment, and demanded the name of the dressmaker who had dressed the Earth. But no one knew.
Night and Morning sulked, and though a number of gods and goddesses did their best to design clothes for them, they refused to wear them, because they were not as beautiful as that of the earth.
Dress-maker Rakha
At last Rakha, a young goddess came forth and promised to weave garments for them. But on one condition. She said she wanted a place from where she could see the entire universe, and that she must dwell there alone undisturbed by any god or human being.
Then the Moon was created, and Rakha went to dwell there all alone by herself. To weave the cloth she required an unbreakable needle. This Agni, the god of fire, forged with his mighty red flames. With this, Rakha went to the Moon to make dresses for Night and Morning.
Night and Morning peered at her anxiously as she sat spinning the material, and became more and more excited when they saw her deft fingers moving briskly. The needle darted in and out of the exquisite stuff which flowed all over the sky.
“Rakha”, they cried in delight, “we shall be most wonderfully gowned and no one dare compete with us.”
“I hope so”, Rakha smilingly replied, “but who would think of the dressmaker when they see you looking so beautiful?”
“But everybody will see your lovely face shining from the deep blue sky at night and your needle weaving through the trees with the silvery thread. Then they would know you as the wonderful dressmaker of the universe.”
“I wonder!” laughed Rakha.
And Rakha, who is often called the Moon, is still wondering as she sits in the white palace weaving those films of rose, pink, blue, grey, lemon, and pale pearly dawn, dusky twilight and star-spangled black which have clothed Night and Morning ever since and which you can see in the sky today!
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