A NIGHT INSIDE.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 106, 7 May 1931, Page 21

A NIGHT INSIDE.

CITY MISSION SHELTER.

CLEAN ANI> COMFORTABLE.

SAVES MEN FROM STARVATION,

If one, passes down Lower Hobson Street about six o'clock any night of the week, one will probably notice a small group of men outside the entrance to the City Mission's night shelter. Passing that way again about an hour later one will not fail to observe that the handful of men noticed there previously has become a queue stretching to the bottom of the street- The queue is always tightly packed, its members are for the most part shabby and all but penniless, and they are waiting for the doors to open to admit them to a night's free lodging and two meals — one served immediately after new enrolments are completed, and the other at dawn. Seven-eighths of the men are "old residents." Some, the majority, are there because they are unable to find work. A few would not take work if offered it. Newcomers are asked kindly and politely to stand aside until rollcall is ended, when they are asked for name, address, occupation and last place of abode. But meanwhile the others have passed into the next room, which is 'the mess, where they get a mug or mugs of tea, a full plate of stewed apricots and boiled rice, two full length "doorsteps," one of white and the other of brown bread, and a chunk of cheese. Some sit on the long bench-tables or on the floor, or lean against the wall talking.' In the middle of the- room an altercation has 'begun. A tidy-looking Hawaiian has been accused by a seaman of being too often at the head of the queue, and of sometimes pushing his way in. The other vigorously denies the accusation. The affair begins to look a little dangerous, until both recover themselves, and decide to refer the matter to the manager. A little further away leans a mulatto afainst a table, and his attention is not attracted by the differences of the two near him- His interest is his meal, and he does full justice to it, but he was never taught the correct manner of going about it. He is barefooted, and looks as though he has just swabbed down the deck. His right big toe is missing. The room, which is a very extensive one, is comparatively quiet, considering that there are nearly 150 men inside. It is capable of holding about 600. Men of Various Types. Surveying the motley crowd -from a good vantage epot, one easily realises that here are represented distinct types of men. Assuredly some of them have known far better days, for in the bearand speech of a few one cannot mfstake the traces of a fading refinement. Some of the occupants are seamen, others labourers out of work, aiid the rest are drawn from the various trades, or even professions, in which men are unemployed- It must not be imagined that all the men are dejected. For the most part they are bright enough. For the unambitious among, them, what need is there to worry when a reasonably comfortable bed and two lar»e meals in 24 hours are to be had free, providing they enter sober? Drunkenness is not tolerated, and offenders are ejected immediately. One does not hear a complaint of the food, for it is certainly wholesome, if plain. The conversation is mostly on drinking, relief works, unemployment, politics. One little braggart boasted that he had had 18 beers that day and, having spent all his money, had been forced to spend the night in the mission. When the eating and drinking is over, the company disperses to the dormitory upstairs, which is exactly the same size as the mess below. Here are a multitude of beds ranged in rows, two beds being placed together throughout. At the aide of three of the walls bunks have been placed along the length in tiers of two. Each bed is provided with a lower and upper sheet, and one blanket. At the foot of the bed is a folded towel. The bed is springy and the mattress sufficiently soit to ensure a restful sleep. The pillow is small, but soft enough for a tired head. Lights Out at Ten. Until lights are switched out at about 10 o'clock, the men pass the time with pipes, cheap novels, magazines, card quartets and stories of their day's experiences. Snatches of old sea chanteys come from the far corner where the bathroom and wash basins are. Several other "salts" join' in, to make a stentorian chorus. Someone nearby calls out to them to "put a sock in it, and rolls over sulkily on his side with his back to the singers. Then a humourist (a Scotsman) strikes up a song from the other end of the room. He laughs heartily in a half-hysterical manner, which is funnier than the song. He draws laughter from a section of the crowd, who know that, at the close of each verse, he will indulge in his queer laugh again. It grows on the imagination of the crowd, who are forced to see the humorous side of it. The man m the bed beside him tells him he is wild, and he receives the reply: "If Ned Kelly was alive I would be with him. Then lights out. Soon afterwards, sitting up in the gloom, one hears the regular breathing of the 140 or 150 inmates. It is broken now and again by a trroan, someone talking in his sleep, a snore, a creak of the bed. The sounds are more comforting than the sound outside of the wind and rain. At dawn, or a little later, lights are switched on again. After the usual preliminaries, all adjourn below for breakfast, where they set tea, thin porridge and "doorsteps." Thence they are free to roam the streets at will until 7 p.m. comes around once more. The City Mission undoubtedly saves many from starvation, and in view of the fact that the recent annual meeting disclosed a loss of several hundred pounds, it is a cause worthy of support from Auckland's public. Nothing but credit can devolve on the Rev. Jasper Calder and his helpers for the work and the way the shelter is conducted. Those who make use of it could hardly expect more under the circumstances.