METHVEN STREETS.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 51, Issue 133, 18 March 1931, Page 4

METHVEN STREETS.

Sir, —I live in Methven. I recently travelled south as far >as Timaru by motor-car and was struck by the wonderful 1 difference in the loads as soon as i had crossed the Raugitata. North of it several gentlemen were busy with many weird implemerits, replacing gravel and rocks that I and others of my ilk were busy casting again into the adjoining gutters. South of it (the' Rangitata) a pleasant, smooth, tar-sealed road, mile after mile, not only# through the various townships but in the open country. Must this thing he, Sir? Are we not as deserving and progressive in this County as in those further south? Rut for the moment I am chiefly concerned with the main thoroughfare and the "Square” in our own township — Methven, not a city, hut after all quite a little town with a population of about 800 souls (not soles, the cutting shingle has long since left us without any of that kind). To Lie serious, Mr Editor, the condition of our main street is positively damnable ,and that’s praising it. For years now the loose shingle on it has varied in depth three to fifteen inches. Ladies wearing thin shoes have tci he carried across and men walking across the square (there is a hotel on either side) run a grave risk of arrest for drunkenness, so staggering is their gait across the riverbed-like highway. It is roughly estimated that during the last two years the cost to motorists ploughing through the loose shingle lias been £452,000 10s 9d in petrol and £ll2 4s 2d in tyres. If the Highways Board has no respect for Ashburton as a County, will it not take pity on Methven as a village and si>ill a. few gallons of tar on our principal thoroughfare. We are a modest and grateful people here and would be thankful for small (very small) mercies. I am told that cur Riding members on the County Council have done thenbest but haye had no support from the others. Anyhow, if Constable Robertson does arrest any one of us on a charge of apparent insobriety and lodge the party in his booby-hatch, R.I.P.