Glad News Of 60 Years Ago

Press, Volume CVIII, Issue 31653, 13 April 1968, Page 5

Glad News Of 60 Years Ago

(Specially written for "The Press" by

W. H. P.)

Newspapers throughout New Zealand gave the glad news to their readers, of customs duty removed from imports as widely diversified as dried fruits, fabrics, sugar, cars, and crutches.

But this of course, happened 60 years ago, when the beneficent Government, headed by Sir Joseph Ward, announced this grand give-away in the daily press of July 27,1907.

Delighted housewives, breadwinners, cripples, and car owners hailed such munificence with enthusiasm, for who could harbour anything but happy thoughts of politicians, who actually put more purchasing power in the people's pockets instead of reversing the procedure. It was as good, or even better, than buying at wholesale prices. The 10 per cent duty on cottons came off, which meant that wives, mothers, and financees could buy dress prints, flannelettes, denims and something with the exotic name of Turkey twill, at a clear saving of 2/- in the £. Nor would they now have to pay for a 20 per cent duty on tapestry, cretonnes, damasks, and such utilitarian fabrics as pillow linens, blind holland, or towelling, And this, the papers patiently explained, for the benefit of those weak in arithmetic, meant savings of 4/-, 5/-, and 6/- in the £. “In other words,” amplified the Parliamentary press release, “goods that previously cost £1 will now be obtainable for 16/-, 15/-,' and 14/-. These goods, moreover, are such as are bought and used by every housewife in the Colony.” “Free Meals” An editorial in a leading metropolitan daily of the period had this to say: “The Colonial Treasurer has gone a long way towards giving the public not merely a free breakfast table, but a free dinner and tea table as well ... the housewife is clearly considered.” After which came a summary of Government benevolence: Remission of duty on sugar, £200,000 per annum; raisins, £15,000; figs, dates, prunes, £IO,OOO to £12,000; cream of tartar, £SOOO to £6000: cotton goods and linens, £48,000 to £50,000; motor cars, £15,000. Which all added up to a highly respectable rebate of roughly £290,000 to £300,000. Even in those distant days, before the emergence of the Welfare State and Social Security, the kindly governmental care and largesse also extended to the halt, the sick and the lame. Off came the duty on bandages, trusses, crutches, and artificial limbs, and these worthwhile savings were, you may be sure, highly acceptable to sufferers, many of whom, no doubt, went into ruptures at the thought of cheaper medical and surgical support, which, make no mistake, was all “good public relations” for next election.

Nobody Missed Everybody shared the benefits of this new fiscal policy. The Government of those

days obviously did not play favourites. Presumably they had no worries with overseas funds, trade balances, or the like. Even the beekeepers benefited, when stung to philanthropy, the Colonial Treasurer removed the duty from such essentials in the apiarist’s armoury as smokers, wax extractors, and rubber gloves. Small boys could break windows, and their parents could replace them at much lower cost than before, because off came the duty on window glass and plate glass. Even billiards table manufacturers and parlour proprietors scored when duty was reduced on materials and playing equipment, etc. The people, to quote a latter day saying, had “never had it so good.” Duty Free Cars This apparently was a sore point with a leader writer who caustically commented, “There does not appear to be any valid reason for the loss of £15,000 duty collected on motor cars which are scarcely a necessity of life even in these days.” But the same £15,000, in those days, when a car was truly a status symbol, brought a worth-while measure of monetary relief even to those who did not really need it, but who, nevertheless, were doubtless delighted to receive it However, as every Government has discovered, there will always be the critics, and in the letters to the editor column appeared a barrage of criticism such as this which appeared in the now long-defunct “Lyttelton Times." “Sir. with regard to the ‘free breakfast table’ which the Motor Car Government are making such a great fuss about, I would like to ask the housewives and daughters when coming down to breakfast on Sunday mornings, to look carefully at their slippers, which have cost them about 2s, and reflect, when they consider that the Government makes 8d out of such shoes. A nice little point ... a ‘free breakfast,’ and charged 8d by the Government before you can leave your bedroom to get at it.” This, Incidentally, was written by a gentleman, who, one may feel, had little cause to carp, if slippers for his womenfolk cost but a modest florin, to which must be added the enjoyment of cheaper eating three times a day, and the possible consequent savings of a reduced housekeeping allowance. But it certainly points the moral, that with the best will in the world, nobody can please everybody ... not even Government.