AS OTHERS SEE US.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 186, 7 August 1936, Page 14

AS OTHERS SEE US.

WE AUCKLANDERS.

U.S.A. CONSUL MOVES ON.

MR. BOYLE AND SLOGANS. "Your democracy in New Zealand," he said, "is the most natural in the world. You do not have to make a slogan of it to advertise it. It is apparent and accepted." i' ... Or again: "Here I find but slight class distinctions. I can pass the time o' day with a waitress, and neither she nor I feel embarrassed." Still further: "I could not imagine you New Zealanders being stampeded into a hurried course of action." These are the remarks of one who, obviously, is not a New Zealander, yet one who must have lived here a fairly long time to be able thus to speak with confident insight. . It falls seldom to the lot of those who serve their country in its diplomatic corps to remain long in oile place. It seems the accepted thing that just when they have become settled and have rubbed the corners of the strangeness that they should receive woVd to. move on. But it is only after 11 years that Mr. Walter Boyle, consul for the . United States here, has received notice that he lias: been transferred t'6 another centre Gf'&ctiVfty. S'o long has Mr. Boyle been in Auckland that he has been accepted as an Aucklander. Were it not for the Stars and Stripes that float from that window high up in the Dilwortli Buildin", for a certain little twist of the topgue of which the Scots, the Irish and Americans never rid themselves, Auckland might forget that he is the formal representative of. another great nation. Y~':- y That Impersonal Attitude. ./Yeyjc/faii. ,And though, he has slipped ea'Sily.arfd: naturally into Auckland's life he has- retained enough of that impersonal attitude to be able to make such penetrating ,;i[tatem en ts about us, to regard us;';as it were, from a height, in much the same way as he looks down Queen Street from his elevated eyrie. When he was interviewed this morning ho was asked to go back 11 years and to make a broad survey of what he had seen that had interested him. He was asked to remark on changes, to comment on the people. "Well," he said meditatively,. in accents which were reminiscent of sunny Southern States, "it's hard to Jinow

where, to .start "or" what - And it was , only every now and - again, o>'er a long, and pleasant.chat,- that ,he allowed to'.-fall:'such little intimate insights-.ias were quoted first of all. He' spdke rea'dily of the he had received, yet it was apparent that; it was. not ? the. formal courtesy -of host to strangerVibUt as friend to friend. This you could tell f by-the warmth that crept into his voice. ! . But it was-when he was asked to com- ' ment on the changes and people that lie | crossed one leg over the other, tilted his chair and clasped his hands behirid-.-his | head, a?l in preparation for a journey backward over 11 years. At length he said that he had',eo"me here with the feeling that he was going to be isolated. .Don't forget thatj-it- was : ".countryman of his who asked' what, we did in New Zealand when the tide came: in. Butshe said he had found a community of .Anglo-Saxon stock, akin to; his own,, whose * outlook .was much the same, * among whonr he knew he would be at home. "1 ou are ; big enough to be socially self-sufficient,'yhe said.' "You have one and a half "million of Anglo-Saxon people,- which ,is much, more effective than a great population of different nationalities." New Zealand Is Not Paidchial. "No," he, said definitely, "in reply, to a .question, • "no, you are not 'piirochial. I You have remembered that you have ■ kin in the Old. World, and you '-know that your : destinies . with I them. That has kept you in touch. } Then syou.uare a travelled people, one i of the most travelled I. have met. There , jis no, antidote fqr parochialism like - ( j travel.: ,N. 0,. I have , seen no signs- of . j parochialism." "V. j That led him to speak more of the ( people. He was surprised at the f , absence of social distinctions. "Your a

democracy here," he said, "i& the ftiost natural in the world. Yo.u do not.-have to invent slogans about ft to advertise it. I always think that when people to drag; such a thing- - before the public eye by means of a, slogan, tfiey are trying to cover by emphasis something that " hardly exists. Here democracy is not mentioned. It is taken for granted." Mr. Boyle continued in another vein. He had noticed, he said; a peculiar • reluctance to pay for "swank;" . ."In America, lie. explained, : you ,; .could- httve a room^in -an hotel for three dollars or one for 50 dollars. Sonie Americans , took the 50-dollar room-simply t,o sh'ow that they could afford to do so. "A New Zea lander wouldn't do. that,'-' Mr. Boyle said. "Probably he couldn't. : but it would not be for that reason." ..;M' I And then he ceased to look at Queen Street from his eyrie, and descended right into . the street, as it were. He ■ spoke of his experiences in New Zealand;

as a iSTew Zealander might have spoken. "Eleven years ago," he said, "there were scarcely any modern buildings in Auckland. Now there are many. It was a momentous thing for me to go from here to Hamilton by cav. Now, well it's easy." He spoke again of the friends he had made; the interests he had. He admitted that it was not easy for a man past the middle years of life to move and start again. "Change," said Mr. Boyle, "is romantic only for the young." He turned a little suddenly to speak of something quite different. It was an incident .which, he said, was as fine a tribute to the United. States as he had met with —which was saying something coming from a consul; and it was simply a few words _of conversation with a little old woman, who cleaned offices. C" 'y. >• She had come Jtso Auckland many years ago with ber' husband. They were American. They had,- not intended to stay; but they did. 'Yeats 'Her husband diqd, and she wa3 left rather poorly provided for. To her widow's mite, sli£- cleaned offices, for which she received something like 10/ weekly. "But why," asked Mr. Boyle,' "don't you take the old age pension V'. She had formed the habit of coming to see him. Who, indeed, else could shi; , see ? "You would have to - become naturalised, of course." he added. .. ~! , "Yes," nodded the little old charwoman, "I know that; and that is why I don't. You see I am a citizen of the United States of America. That is all I have left." 4 Holding a Woman's Hand. my day" the consul added, "I have had to do strange things" . and he gave an instance. Once a wealthy American woman came here on a tourist ship, and, injured herself, so that she had to undergo X-ray examinations at th& hospital over a period. . 'fjDo you know," smiled Mr. Boyle, "thjit as time went on I began to wish I had lived, a. .better,, life, and had been a better sort of man, for every tiine she underwent aft exanjiha-fion, was uncomfortably often, 1 !' iwtjd to hajye' tti go to. . Looking, back oyqr: .what. Mr,;| ,B'oyle had said, 'one realised iwiffi something of a surpMlffiiaiat $|Mad; spdbtaculrtr, eV6int'. It had been 'peaceful eleven ; wliiqli had been mingled liuipdur, pathos, and definite regret-at-leaving.' 'Jt had boon an' illuminating Reflection of a dis-