GOLDEN JUBILEE

Dominion, Volume 24, Issue 288, 1 September 1931, Page 11

GOLDEN JUBILEE

City Bookseller’s Record '

mr. h. w. McCarthy A notable record is established in Wellington to-day by the completion of 50 years in one trade in one city. It was on September 1, 1881, that Mr. H. W. McCarthy began his business career as a bookseller with John had a shop on the site now occupied by the Duke of Edinburgh Hotel, at the corner of Willis and Manners Streets. “There were only ten booksellers’ shops in Wellington in those days, and at high tide the sea came right up to the back of the shops in Willis Street,” said Mr. McCarthy to a “Dominion” representative. “There was no rubbish collection, and waste matter was thrown straight into the sea.” Wellington had only an inward and an outward mail once a month, via San Francisco, which was looked forward to both by the public and by the trade. It

was Mr. McCarthy’s job to look after the outward mail from the shop, and this would involve 20 or 30 trips a day to the post office with papers being sent Home. The inward mail was worse, as goods only arrived once a month, and 12 or 15 cases was considered a small mail. The month during which the quarterly mail came in, up to 50 cases would arrive. The trade of bookseller and stationer was almost classed as a profession in the early days, and one had to be apprenticed to .it. In one instance his employer received a premium of £5O cash from a certain man, who worked with- him for 12 months without pay. “Valentine Day,” February 14, used to be looked forward to as a day of days. Valentines were very pretty, and sold even better than Christmas cards do now; but the sale of them was killed when comic ones were introduced.

After some years in the service of different firms in Wellington, Mr. McCarthy commenced business on his own account in Vivian Street, and a few years later transferred to Courtenay Place. He had many eminent clients, including Sir Julius Vogel, Sir George Grey, Mark Twain, R. J. Seddon, and William Ferguson Massey. Among his experiences was one he had with Mark Twain. It was in the late' eighties when the eminent author entered the shop, and Mr, McCarthy ventured to ask him which of his books he considered was his best. “The one which brings me in the most money,” was the reply of the author in a nasty, snappy manner. Mr. McCarthy had many other amusing experiences to relate, and spoke of one occasion in his youth when five large whales had been stranded on the Te Aro foreshore. While out on an errand, he became acquainted with the fact, and following the practice of small boys, immediately forgot nil about his errand, or the fact that he was working, and in company with ninny others of the small fry, proceeded to the foreshore to see the fun. The whales were all killed, and the whole of the harbour was the colour of blood. He never forgot the scolding he received on getting back to the shop for being so dilatory, for his employer was not disposposed to make allowance for the fact that “boys will be boys.”