The Otago Witness of the late 19th century and into the 20th has a remarkable series of letters written by young people from all over Otago. They were "Dot's Little Friends," or the DLF. They contain snapshots of life, rural and urban, from around the province and through the decades. Many are very interesting as historic descriptions but their authors can be difficult to pin down as they used nom-de-plumes. Amy Lott was easy to trace, although "Queenie III" sometimes appears as "Queenie 111."
DEATHS
LOTT. — On the 22nd May, at Dunedin, Amy, beloved daughter of Abel William and Mary Lott, Mihiwaka; aged 18 years. -Otago Daily Times, 27/5/1907.
In the midst of our festivity there has been one sad note. I am not speaking here of sad memories, and the feeling that there is one vacant place among us that no one can fill: the thought of our late Dot has indeed been in all hearts this week; but when I began this note I was referring to the younger comrade who has been but lately called to leave us — Queenie III. She was not personally known to me, but many of the older writers will regret to hear of her loss, and I wish, with them, to express my sympathy for her bereaved family. The following two letters of intimation have been received by me:
— Dear Dot and L.F — It is with the deepest regret that I am writing to tell you that yet another of our band has departed from our midst. Miss Amy Lott. whose family resides here at Purakanui, died in Dunedin on Wednesday, May 22. She had not written since our late Dot's death, but before she wrote frequently under the pen name of Queenie III. Had she been spared she would still have had two years of active correspondence, and the deepest sympathy will be felt for the bereaved parents, brothers, and sisters. Two of our late comrade's sisters are D L.F., and are well known to many of our band as Cleopatra and Dove II. I am sure that many D.L F. friends and correspondents will sympathise with them in their time of great grief.
— Your sorrowing comrade. EDIEVALE.
Dear Dot,— It is with much regret that I write this letter to the page, as what I am about to write will be a shock to the L.F. band. You will all be sorry to hear that one of our famous L.F — namely, Queenie III — has passed away from our midst and joined the great majority. At the time of her death I happened to be in Dunedin, and met her sister, who told me the sad news. It was a great shock to me, and I am sure all D.L.F., past and present, will join me in sympathy with the bereaved ones. Queenie III died in Dunedin, and was taken from there to her resting-place, in the Port Chalmers Cemetery. Although she did not lately take an active part in the page, Queenie III was a very able correspondent. She died at the early age of 18 years. With most sincere sympathy to the bereaved ones, — Yours truly, KIA ORA. -Otago Witness, 12/6/1907.
Dear Dot, — I have not written for a long time, but I now take up my pen to write my farewell letter, as my wedding day is drawing nigh. I shall be married before this letter appears in print. The wedding day was fixed for the 5th of June, but it had to be postponed on account of my dear sister's (Queenie III) death. It was a great shock to us all, Dot, and we all feel it very much. But none of us know the day we may be called from this earth, and I hope we will all be prepared to go when our call comes. I can say no more about it at present, dear Dot, so I will bring this short letter to a close by bidding farewell to all my D.L.F. comrades and your own dear self. — Yours truly, CLEOPATRA. (Jeanie Lott.)
[Dear Cleopatra, — You have written us quite a short letter for your retiring letter, and yet it contains much. I wrote to you when Quenie III died; I wonder if you ever got my letter? If not, please accept my deepest sympathy now. For your own future, dear girl, I wish you so much good that I hardly know how to shape my wishes for two or three short lines of print. I should be so glad to hear from you, and have your new address, if you will send it to me. Now, I hope that the new life before you will be full of brightness. Good-bye, Cleopatra! — DOT.] -Otago Witness, 24/7/1907.
The "DLF" pen name of Amy was an opportunity to discover her accounts of what her life was like over a century ago.
Dear Dot, — It is close on two years since I last wrote to you, but during all that time I have been interested in your page, which is most amusing sometimes. During the holidays I was down at the Maori Kaik for a trip, and I can mention — putting aside all misfortunes — that I enjoyed myself immensely. On the way down we passed many yachts, as that was the Port Chalmers regatta day, and it was also a lovely day, enabling many people to enjoy themselves. When passing the lightship we sailed a little farther down the harbour than was intended, and it was time for the steamer to turn, and make for the wharf, but just then she struck a sandbank, and we had to stay there until the tide was farther in. Before we got off the bank a good many people were taken to the shore in the lifeboats, and that, no doubt, helped the steamer to get off. By the time she sailed into the wharf, the Invercargill had landed her crew, and was on her way to outside the heads, where I have never been, so far as I can remember, in a steamer. But mother says she took me out when I was a baby about three months old, and was nearly overboard — and would have been if it hadn't been for a gentleman who was sitting close beside her. When our steamer reached the wharf we were all pretty tired, as some of us had had to stand pretty nearly all the way down, so you may well guess we grew an inch or two. After landing we walked along the road a little for some water, which was not very far off. Then we came back and made a fire by the rocks to boil our billy This did not take very long, and in a little while we were seated for dinner, but it must have been pretty near afternoon tea-time, I think. After dinner my mate and I went for a walk along the road to gather some lupins that were growing in the sand to keep it from drifting. When we had gathered enough we came back to meet the rest of our friends, who had taken the younger ones' boots off, so that they could wade in the salt water, which is very nice on a warm day. At about 3 o'clock we gathered together our belongings, and then, we went to the boat and stayed for half an hour before the steamer sailed. At quarter past 3 the whistle was blown, and I did get a start, as my mate and I were looking into the water, not thinking of the whistle at that moment. When half-past 3 o'clock came she gave another whistle and started on her way back to Dunedin. We were the first to leave the wharf, as our steamer was at the side of the Invercargill, so they untied the ropes and set sail. About half way to Dunedin the Invercargill caught up on us, and a little while after that the funnel of our steamer caught fire, and there was a "pantomime." All of a sudden I said to my mate, "I smell rag burning," and do you know what it was? Well, it was her dress. Lighted soot was coming out of the funnel, and flying all directions. Many ladies had their umbrellas completely spoilt. Indeed, one woman I knew had her umbrella blazing before she knew anything about it, while a little girl had her cheek burnt. We reached Dunedin about 5 o'clock, and went down to the North-East Valley to stay for a week with some friends, who took me to the Gardens nearly every evening. We had a regular pantomime on our trip to the Maori Kaik, but never mind, notwithstanding the misfortunes experienced, we enjoyed ourselves Al. I think I was away for about eight weeks for my holidays, and all the time I wasn't very well; I was attending the hospital once a week, but at the last I had to go in. The weather up here is very bad just now, but the other day when we were coiling our oats it was enough to roast a bullock.
Since last writing to you I have been to two weddings, which were very enjoyable. With best wishes to the editor, not forgetting your own dear self, — Yours truly,
QUEENIE III. -Otago Witness, 22/3/1905.
Queenie III wishes to exchange autos (autographs) with Fred, A Mother's Lass, Awkward Ned, and all the Invercargill L.F. Address: "Queenie III, D.L.F., care of Mrs Fullerton's store, Mihiwaka." -Otago Witness, 23/3/1905.
Dear Dot,
— I am going to try to tell you about the holiday I had out at Caversham some eight weeks ago. First thing I did in the morning when I awoke was to rub the sleepiness omit of my eyes, then I got up and had a look at the sky and saw signs of it turning out a lovely day. It was 6 o'clock when I got up and prepared the breakfast. At about 7 o'clock breakfast was over, and I helped my sister a little until it was time to get ready to catch the 9.20 a.m. train. The train steamed into the station shortly after I reached it. Seating myself in one of the carriages I had a look at the Daily Times, which engaged me until I reached Dunedin station. I made my way to the Caversham car. Of course when I was passing the Witness Office I went a little slower than usual just to see if you were anywhere to be seen, but no Dot was visible. I suppose you would be busy at the beginning of the week printing a number of L.F. letters, which come from all directions. When I reached my auntie's it was close' on 11 o'clock, and I was just in time for a cup of tea, so I sat down with auntie and chatted, and we ate to our hearts' content, nearly forgetting to put on uncle's dinner. When night came the hours, flew by very quickly, and it was about midnight when we reached blanket bay. Next morning I helped auntie with her work so that we could go for a walk up the road where everything was so pleasing to me. After we had had a good look round. We came home and had our tea, which made us feel quite comfortable for the rest of the evening. We did not forget our bed early that night, as the walking had made us feel very tired. We didn't go out for about a week after that, as the weather was not favourable, and we thought it would be no joke trying to enjoy ourselves out in the rain. So we contented ourselves by speculating what we should do the next fine day. To me it seemed a long time in coming, as it was the same old thing every day for about a week, and we almost gave up all hopes of going for another enjoyable walk. However, one morning when we awoke we saw the sun shining beautifully, so we got up and hurried through with the work, and made up our minds to go to the St. Clair beach. It was 1.30 p.m. when we left, and we reached the ocean about 2 o'clock. Feeling a little tired, we sat on the seats for a while, and then we went on to the beach; but we didn't stay long, as it had turned as cold as if a snowstorm was coming. After we had had a good look round we started off for home, reaching there at about 4 o'clock, in time to hear the pit-a-pats commencing on the roof, and that meant another day at home to rest our weary limbs. The next day we started to amuse ourselves with sewing and drawnthread work until the afternoon, when a letter came saying I was required at home, as my elder sister was going away. My word, I did think that was a calamity, for I was just beginning to get the run of the place, and was enjoying myself at the same time. It was on a Moinay I received the letter, and on the Thursday I said good-bye to my clear old auntie. After reaching home I did not know how to walk for fear of getting stuck in the mud after being on asphalt all my holidays. One very hot day my sister and I went down to the station to carry up a young pig which had come by train. After the train moved off we opened the box, and soon had Mr Piggy in a sack, which we had taken for the purpose My sister taking one end of the sack and I the other, we started on our journey horne — up a steep hill. Almost every step we took we had to put the pig down and have a good laugh, which made us quite sore. The journey home must have taken us an hour and a-half, though it generally takes us only a little over half an hour. How should we have got on if a photographer had come along with his camera! I guess I would have hunted the pig out of the sack and hopped into it myself. My sister said if that occurred she would tie the top of the sack up and roll it down the hill. Don't you think she was cruel, Dot? With best love to Primrose II, Kia Ora, and not forgetting Mr Editor and your own dear self, — Yours truly.
QUEENIE III. -Otago Witness, 29/11/1905.
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