THE DOG DAYS.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXI, Issue 23, 28 January 1911, Page 12

THE DOG DAYS.

When the seasoh has long since gone to that bourne where all seasons go, when Parliament ceases from troubling and the law courts are at rest, when everyone has rented a cottage at Moss Vale or the Bliie Mountains, or journeyed to Kosciusko, Tasmania, or New Zealand, when the pavements radiate heat, and the dust and smell of motorcare are things abhorrent, then the city uncomplainingly swelters through the dog days. Shirt-sleeved men in offices work on steadily with but ah occasional sigh, as a vision of Comfortable station homesteads and picnic laces rises before them, sprihklers play with grateful coolness oh suburban lawns of an evening, iced lemon drinks ar£ ih vogue, and there is a slackening of the sense of social responsibility. If everybody is out of town — although the crowds in the street show no diminution — there is at leadt no necessity to attend evening parties, ahd a freedom to spend the evening ih open-air amusement* or ofi the water. Although one's acquaintances have been thinned out, fchofee who remain in town seem more pleasantly neighbourly than at other times. Altogether, Sydney is very agreeable. If the best thihg ih the_ dog da-y» is to leave the city for some cool unfrequented spot, decidedly the next be«t thing id to stay in town. There are chatty evenings When one Smokei a { neighbourly pipe on a hospitable veraadah without troubling to make a call of ceremony ih the drawing-room. There j ate, for the solitary, the parks or the harbour steamed where he' can enjoy at once the beauty of the scene and as much human nature as he Cared to watch, (Was even moonlit Venice, with all its palace-lined waterways, ever mote romantically beautiful than Sydney harbout* by night, with its gleaming silver expanses ahd sheltered coves?) How the people wlio don't leave town end those down from the country take possession of every spot, and revel in it all! They are frankly good-humoured, in the evening at all events, happy, healthy Philistines, prepared to enjoy and to please. The mirthful jape, the practical joke, the tender whisper, the cicerone's explanations, > the complacent boastings, the sage advice, the politics, j and the somnolent confidences are , scattered broadcast, and each is too interested ih his own little group to. give heed to others. Factory girl, mechanic, clerk. Country visitor, and banket alike, all are well garbed and with, money to spend at the refreshment rooms. Poverty hides its diminished head in Sydney and slinks under cover. There must be some, of course, but it is difficult to discover. There are hot days which recall that essay of Leigh Hunt's, in which the sentences begin with a "now ( " but they have an intensity of heat which the stay-at-home Englishman does not know. They are days which suck the energy out of men, and turn the stiff polished collar of respectability into a limp unpleasing rag. The worst of all are the breathless days, muggy and thick with the foreboding of a tropic storm. Then there are days of blazing heat, one following another, the setting sun a ball of jjame, and the newspapers filled with columns of bush fires. A hot wind scorches the place like — as each good citizen explains to his neighbour in timehonoured phrase — a blast from a furnace. But inside some of the thick-walled business palaces the heat is kept at bay and on suburban greens schoolboys at holiday play cricket through it alf. In the shops where cool drinks and ices are supplied a roaring trade is done. The imaginative man, to cool himself, repeats Henley's lines:— Of ice and glass the tinkle, Pellucid, Eilver shrill ; * Peache3 without a wrinkle ; Cherrie3 and snow at will, From china bowls that fill The Bense with a sweet IncurioUßneee of heat; A melon's dripping shreds ; Cream-clotted strawberries ; DuEk dairies set with curds — To live* I think of these! In tie interval men's eyes turn to the Post Office tower. The flag is flown, which announces that the southerly is on its way. Jervis Bay sends word of it, and towards night it arrives. There is a swaying of trees in the suburbs, a cooling of the air, a shutting of doots and windows, and the rushing of a ihighty wind. Tn an hour it has calmed somewhat, and one ezn gtep outside into a cooler, sweeter world. It was worth bearing the heat ,for the sake trf the relief and the beauty of the change. For the holiday-makers there a,re yellow beaches caressed with swirling green translucent waves, which look ac if they could never be cruel. There ale men and women and children from thi) country, thinking, some of them, of a 6unscorched _ interior and of the good sea- | sons which have permitted them' to I spend a month or two in town, at a ; time wheh the heat is fiercest outhack. i There are street* filled with cheery peoj pie, who, oh al) but the hottest days, affect a genial complacency towards the sun's efforts. White dresses and pretty faces are framed in a setting of rich shops and picturesque, narrow, streets. Although everyone is away, life is going on, and work is to be done, and some of the streets are splendidly cosmopolitan in the doing of it. Now is the time when libraries, picture galleries, and museums are over-run with visitors, for ¦ country cousins pay attention to ¦ the lions which Sydney sometimes neglects. In the Botanic Gardens and the Zoo are scores of picnic parties, most of them including happy, energetic youngsters. j There are the upper reaches of the | Parramatta, Lane Cove, and Middle j Harbour to explore. The better-known restaurants are a joy to witness, with their abundant patrons, the majority of whom are young and brimming with the zest of life. The memories of some of these little luncheons, teas, dinners, ahd suppers will sweeten existence in many a country home for half a year. The wonders of the rich soft fabric* which drapers display cannot be put into words, nor the joys of the jewellers. The friendliness of the whole place seizes even upon the misanthrope. Men get the afternoon off from office work to run out to the Cricket match. Ih spite of the outdoor attractions, the playhouses are nightly filled, although one notes during the past decade a change in the attractions offered. Formerly this time of the year was given up to pantomrmes, ahd the- inevjtable melodrama ahd vaudeville. It was the children's cafnival, and their seniors crowded the theatres for much the same reason, presumably, as they pretend when sneaking off to the circus, that it will amuse the little ones. The theatrical season proper I began at Easter in a bla2e of glory, for everyone was then back in town, and the restrictions of Lent were being removed. Nowadays Boxing Day may oome and go without a pantomime, and serious attempts at drama are produced, when everyone is supposed to be out of town. During recent years one has seen produced in Sydney, in the interval between Christmas and Easter, the plays of Shakespeare, Barrie, Shaw ahd other dramatists. The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and incidentally advantaging those who have to remain in town during the hot months. Yes, let us profess our heretical beliei as boldly as we may. The town is hot at all a bad place when eveiyOne is away. There are numberless happy little informal affairs going on, pleasant impromptu water parties, small suppers, visits to the lighthouse, and other things for which formal invitations wouldn't be sent, but which, sweetened with the presence of one or two charming girls from the country in love with Sydney, mako

agreeable experiences and pleasant reminiscences. Thackeray tells how Major Pendennis, when staying at the country seat of the most Uoble tlie Marquis of Steyne, was recalled to London by the news of Arthur's illness, and remained' I in town during his nephew's convalescence. From that time forward j he " declared at his clubs and in society that the dead season in town was often pleasant, doosed pleasant* begad.' In that opinion the old worldling was right, and wp can re-echo it as long as our dog days are associated with kind faces, brave hearts, neighbourly intercourse, and simple pleasures.— =-E. H. O.j in Sydney Herald.