MEN IN MIDLANDS ENJOY THEIR WORK

Press, Volume LXXXVI, Issue 26032, 8 February 1950, Page 4

MEN IN MIDLANDS ENJOY THEIR WORK

LONDON LETTER

[By

NEVILE WEBBER,

London Correspondent of “The Press”)

London, January 27. —That 40 square miles about Birmingham, so appropriately called the “Black Country,” is, these misty, drab winter days, a depressing area for the visitor unused to industry and its attendant outcrop of chimneys, gloomy buildings, and scrap heaps. When I visited it recently a blanket of smoky mist hung low everywhere, although a few miles away the sun was shining on a countryside white witn frost. . It was a cold and grim outlook from the factory-flanked roads. Yet inside, by the roaring forges, the sparking emery wheels, and the sweet spinning lathes there was colour and cheerfulness. Men and women, boys and girls worked with a vigour that surprised me and the other 50 representatives of the overseas press who toured this area last week. “It must be unhealthy here. Why don’t you get away from it,” I asked a grimy forgeman, thinking of the clean air of New Zealand. “Nah, don t you believe it,” he replied straightening up from his task to face me. “Forty years I’ve been working hereabouts and no more than a crushed finger have I had.” , , And so it was with all I asked. They declared it was a healthy climate. “The smoke keeps away the germs,” said one old fellow. “This life suits me; I’ll not shift,” said a welder when I suggested immigration to him. It was one of the surprising aspects of my tour, this cheerfulness, this will to work, this acceptance of conditions. Nevertheless, I noticed thatrhany huge factories had been built beyond the confines of the interlocking chain of towns that comprise the industrial Midlands. Two I visited were surrounded by the green fields and lovely trees that are typical of the beautiful countryside surrounding this area—the Warwickshire lanes, the Malvern Hills, the Cotswolds, Stratford-on-Avon. The lay-out of these new factories amazes the old timers. At one drop forging plant, the biggest and most modern in Europe, the 5000-ton might of a towering forge- was operated by electric buttons. The blocks of steel were heated white hot not in blazing hearths, but in neat electric furnaces. The .cast forgings were transported about the plant from machine to machine on conveyor belts. On all sides we encountered a crusading. energetic spirit that may well mark the beginnings of an era no less important than that pf the industrial revolution of last century. Vast Queues Inevitable A tough problem at present being urgently considered by special committees of the Festival of Britain authorities is how to copeiwith the great rrowds expected at the exhibition. Although estimates vary, it is' riot expected that more than 80,000 people will be able to squeeze into the ground and buildings at the one time. Travel agencies arc urging booking for admittance so that overseas visitors may be sure of seeing the exhibition. Critics say that this will lead to trading of rights and to unfair practices. Another suggestion, also coldly received, is that attendance should be restricted by high charges, rising to a peak at the most popular times. Whatever is done, it seems inevitable that there will be some vast queues. Few “Tuck Boxes” Owing tc rationing and improved school meals huge “tuck boxes” and gigantic feasts in the dormitories of British schools are now things of tfie past. There was surprise, therefore, when the headmaster of the Beaconsfield Preparatory School asked parents not to send food parcels to their boys. He said the way in which boys were going about the dining hall giving away cake was “deplorable.” Other headmasters have agreed that “tuck boxes” arc unnecessary, but say they have not noticed much being given away by the occasional recipients. Neither were they willing to ban “comics,” as the headmaster of Beaconsfield has done, although they do not like them. But all were adamant that hair oil is a curse and causes much damage to pillow cases.

One said he “hated'’ it and anotW could not see the necessityJQ King Solomon’s Mine Although prices for the 18,002 seaF. at Earls Court on Tuesday night iS the Mills-Maxim fight ranged from ST to 10s, it is estimated that anoth*? 20,000 people applied in vain. ManyS the latter were so keen that they nairt up to £2O for the £5 seats and for the 10s ones. Total receinte amounted to nearly £50.000. of which expenses took £BOOO. Mills £IoSS and Maxim £7OOO. No wonder that the 10-inch cigar-smoking promotec Mike Solomons is feeling vfcry hapny about this, Britain’s biggest ever fi. door fight, and that the whole show Is being dubbed "King Solomon’s Mine.*’ N.Z. Does it Better I have heard several of the New Zealanders who were at Twickenham on Saturday to see Wales beat England comment that big Rugby matches are not so well stage-managed here as in the Dominion. There was no curtainraiser and nc marching bands to entertain the vast crowd before the match. The teams did not double out in file and line up for a rousing cheer as in New Zealand. Line umpires and ambulance men were not uniformed. Small boys were allowed to sit within a couple of feet of the sidelines, and in consequence, some nearly met with bad accidents from burly players, f was also surprised to see that the goalposts were not padded: but then that seems to be the general practice here. To judge from the sea of red berate rosettes, streaming ribbons, clatteriM rattles and handbells, fully half of the dense press on the terraces must have been Welshmen. Any good movement by Wales evoked a crescendo o! rattling and bell-ringing, while a seote invariably resulted in yet another welling chorus pf “Land of Our Fatherj* Thousands who were unable to gala admittance to the ground, which was packed with a record crowd of 75,0® hunted out houses with H aerials saw the match on television. So bad is the transport from Twickenham to central London that some spectatwa did not arrive at Waterloo until two hours and a quarter after the mateh had finished. Popularity of Television Much complicated and ingenious apparatus was demonstrated yesterday for the first time at Alexandra Palate, the 8.8. C. television headquarters. The latest development is a camera which can make a film of the image on a television receiver for replaying at a later date. New advances in newsreel technique will enable fully edited films to be shown a couple of hours after taking. Soon it is noped to show > fresh newsreel every evening. Mr Norman Collins, director of television said that licences had increased from 11,900 in January, 1947, to 38.983 in January, 1948. 111,850 in 1949, and to more than 250,000 in • January, 1950. Manufacturers are now making sets at the rate of 500,000 a year. Chilly Weather With icicles on the fountains in Trafalgar Square and temperatures not rising above the thirties during the day, snow cannot be far away. A large poster now being displayed by the Westminster City Council, headed “Snow” in big black letters, informs everyone that should snow fall labour will be required to clear it away, and offers wages of 2s 6Jd an hour on weekdays. 2s 9Jd on Saturdays, and 3s o|d on Sundays and public holidays. A chilly prospect. “Hadn’t a Clue” When the T. S. Eliot play, “The Cocktail Party,” was given its first performance at the Edinburgh Festival last year, northern had to admit that it was brilliantly acted, but that they could not understand it. After | reading the comments which followed its first performance jn New York—“A wonderful experience in the theatre.” “Genuine and worth under-; standing;” “A masterpiece of the modern stage,” “Too allusive to be assimilated from the stage,” one Of the Glas?;ow critics shrewdly observed that on his side of the Atlantic ingenuity had also been shown in finding synonyms for: “We hadn’t a clue.” J