WELLINGTON.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume 1, Issue 8, 14 February 1914, Page 11

WELLINGTON.

AND MUCH LEFT TO BE SAID.

[Specially written for The Sun.]

Mr John Foster Fraser has no sole light to grumble at the things which the local rajahs live with always, and never notice.. "To each who spends a day in a city there is the inalienable right to rush to print with suggestions. There is a saying: See' Naples and die. I have seen Wellington, and am very sick. For three years I had read of "the progress of the city." Doubtless it has progressed—in the'suburbs whero I did not go. The city itself still has the air of a frowsy, blowsy woman. Its. very building operations suggest the curl papers in her hair, the unswept , streets her ''.'fouled shoes, and ;'. its un"bridged, unswept kennels her ungartered, stockings. The shop windows are 'the tawdry, cheap gawds with which' herself; and the are many of the places where the souvenirs of days of better taste are hidden, if not lost. And Wellington cabs and cabmen. Years ago it was said that as dead,; good Americans go to Paris thereafter, bo New Zealand cabs—which were never good—go to Wellington when they are dead to the world in all other towns. Seeing them one must believe that this is true. Also, that each cab found derelict in, say, Waipukurau is received in Wellington with infinite delight as being the best in the metropolis. Which is certain. Each cab that comes theje is the best v for maybe thirty minutes. Then its soul realises the depth; of its degradation, and the memory of old decency spurs it. to establish a record in sinking to the horrid level of its Godforgotten arid man ;uhtehded'fellows. The horses that draw the cabs might he sold to the. British. Government in 'war time.if the remount officer were a subaltern of infantry with no brains and a host of lady .friends who claimed all his. attention. Even po the chance of,a deal, would be. one,.against which a careful bookmaker Would be perfectly willing to lay the odds you asked.

PJEATICAL CABMEN. Those who driyethem are the lineal, but degenerate, descendants of thirdclass hairy pirates. The Council which licenses them must be Socialistic in tendency tin that it permits them to fleece tho foolish wealthy! The wise rich never take cabs;:they know that they cannot afford it. The* stranger is their prey. At.*the,wharf /the Fates deliver him into their -hands, and they charge him three shillings for a trip of three blocks. They pick him up; at the Grand, and drive him to the Royal Oak, and swear that* their true and just fare is two shillings per passenger. Much argument will bring them down to within perhaps fifty per cent, of their legal fare; 'and it is at least 'fifty p£r bent, too, high.' They drive off muttering that are a thieving pauper,' an Australian wowser, and a supporter 6 ; f the Massey Government. What their fares are lawfully—who knows? The ihotel porters cannot tell* The local residents never 'drive in them." * Once JI asked a policeman. He thought,a long.time. Then he said: fMLook here, you walk. It's only round the, corner.'' I believe it was four shillings" and sixpence he. saved me.

There are taxieabs also. There are some good ones amongst them, just as there may be some poor devils, who have fetched up in Hades by aecideht. The brasses of the motors, are filthy;, and their paint work innocent of the cleaning rag.' We came to a "' stand of eight or nine cars. All were " derelict. We searched round the corner, peered into the tooted horns. Thqrei were no drivers. It wasi five in 'the afternoon..,' After a wait that was weary and dreary and long a gentleman, who was engaged in an incoherent discussion with an intoxicated lady, deigned, to notice that we were waiting. He attempted to extort 5/-, for a trip taking as many minutes. Argument having been heard, he com- ' promised on'jtliree shillings and sixpence. Graciously he allowed us to open the cloor ourselves and to take scats within. Then he resumed the argument with the intoxicated ; lady, 1 assured'her ,tnatVhe'would be back inside .two minutes, and climbed aboard . hia vehicle. ■'■'• ,'..' It was a Ford, of the vintage of . five years-back. It jolted like an unsprung dray in a river bed, and clanged like a tinker's cart. Our ■- •■•» chauffeur did not seem to know much ; about the gears, "but he could make, great play with the horn. He hooted ' ovilly, so that old ladies at Miramar had spasms, and little children at,the ■"Hutt were torn with By an accident he got the top gear in, and we swung lampless through the mist of winter twilight. He drove too' fast. He hustled'up to the . tail lamp of a jangling, swaying tram car. Then he jammed on all brakes and stopped with a jolt. It neve? occurred to him to pass the car. So we went for maybe half a milei, He allowed us to'open the door ourselves, spat at our feet, ■ grumbled a thanks for the money — after he' had bitten one piece—and was gone. %

THE HUSTLING RESIDENT. That drive was typical of'the way ~in which the residents of Wellington .have gained (amongst themselves) ,a reputation as busy people. They are! mostly, in a hurry: because they are; not quite sure where they want to go. They travel fast: because they have not the sense to .take the easiest way. One man passed us in the street, elbowing those he met, "hustling" in a way that would have won the approval of any Y.M.C.A. manager who had spent, ' three weeks in the United Five minutes later we caught,up to him. He was standing still, staring blankly at an array of brass" jplates. His destination happened to be,in that building, as waS°'ours. So we had' tho, pleasure . of Rearing him tell the lift man to huri% ~. Then lie rode up to the third us, and then back again to his ; , destination on the first floor. Always* it was the same. The people you.Risked in the streets, - could not give yoWthe information as to locality whictf 'you required. In five shops I askfiH 1 where the Bank of New South Wales was, and in the : Bixth, after enquiries had been instituted, I learnt it -was next door. The Art Gallery all beaten, save an official in- the~?Museum —one of the courteous, people iikJjie city. When we walked.,,to .it. we Jiound that it was a very little place atfd very close shut. So the dull on. And the next day we went to the railway station, off to Auckland. We, learnt that all the "sleepers'* were gone, save one berth. No, there was no hope of getting '•another put on. Of course if we searched

and found so many more people—seven, I think —it might perhaps be arranged. The Department would not help in the search. Tlfe stranger was required to wander about, ask here, ask there, "Do you want to share a sleeper?" We tossed which of us two should have the bunk. At the time T; believed I had lost, but a subsequent comparison convinced me really I won. -The tossing-over we asked about reserving seats. That could'not be arranged at all as we had -not given the requisite notice. The official was very official indeed. We should have known about that. It was somewhere in the guide book. He looked, but could not find the place. He assured us it was not his duty to look for such information. We should have bought the book and read it carefully, or in case of inability to do that should have asked at the Tourist Office. A porter had watched the bags for some time, and at L our approach drew nearer and tested their weight and the strength of his muscles. In exchange for a sixpence he carried them to a carriage he had kept reserved, he assured us. Seldom have I seen a porter so careful with bags, and nowhere had I received so much politeness •in exchange for sixpence. Much I, marvelled. Later on I discovered that the sixpence was a half-sovereign that had got into the wrong pocket. C. G. T.