FIRE AT DOBSON

Press, Volume LXXX, Issue 24368, 21 September 1944, Page 4

FIRE AT DOBSON

BOARDING HOUSE DESTROYED From Our Own Reporter GREYMOUTH, September 20. Dobson boarding house of nine rooms adjoining the Cosmopolitan Hotel at Dobson was totally destroyed by fire at 11 o'clock to-night and the seven occupants narrowly escaped with their lives, particularly the owner, Mrs J, Gardiner, who had only recently arrived from Mangapahe, North Auckland. to take over from the lessee, Mrs Woolhouse. , . ■ Mrs Gardiner’s son had arrived home from the pictures and was in bed for only a few minutes when he became suspicious of fire. He rushed to the kitchen and found 'that the building was in flames. He could not reach his mother’s room at the rear of the building, and rushed round the outside of the house towards his mother, who hurried out. . One of the five boarders in the building had a’ narrow escape, his hair being singed. . . ■ „ . None of the contents of the house was saved, and the boarders will be heavy losers. The house and furniture were insured, but the amount of the insurance was not available to-night. Fortunately, there was no wind at the time of the fire. Although no damage was done to the hotel some distance away, wet sacks had to be placed on the windows to prevent them from breaking. Both premises had iron roofs and walls, and the heat was terrific. The boarding-house was a total loss within an hour. BOOK, OP THE DA Y THANK MR AGATE Ego 6. By James Agate. George G. Harrap and Co. Ltd. 308 pp. Whether this sixth instalment of Mr Agate’s diary or autobiographical notebook is really even better than the previous five or not, it seems better. The comparison may be tested by other readers; one is content to say that Mr Agate proves his fresh-.ass and vigour by seeming to excel himself. Thank him for them. Thank him for being, to begin with, a man who runs into odd, pleasant adventures— A heat wave having declared itself, I sally forth in the white rig-out I keep for these occasions. In Regent Street a blowsy harridan says, "Give us a bob. ducky.” I shake my head, and she screams after me, "What! Can’t spare a bob for a poor old bitch down on her luck? Then you didn’t oughter be wearing them flannels, you dirty butterfly I” and for being the man to retail them all alive-oh. Then thank him for being a man who makes life eventful, and intellectually eventful above all. Catching and coaching a virtuoso of the pianoforte, still wrestling with the Inland Revenue Department, making dramatic criticism a livelier entertainment than the stage normally presents, relishing his Irving and his cricket and his Dickens ana his ponies and his dinner and his inimitable friend and motley, Leo Pavia, how abundantly he fills his present days and draws upon his past! How he quickens a few hours for the reader! Thank Mr Agate.