AFTER TWENTY-FIVE YEARS

Evening Star, Issue 19712, 12 November 1927, Page 23

AFTER TWENTY-FIVE YEARS

MOSCUEL REVISITED [Written by Warwick, for the ‘ Evening Star.’] Not long since Sir Gilbert Barker, the Canadian novelist, was invited to revisit Australia, where he had spent part of his early manhood. Sir Gilbert, however, did not accept the invitation, stating that he did not wish to disturb pleasant memories of the past. “ Bettor,” ho wrote, “to have a happy memory than an increased realisation of an altered scone and a changed atmosphere.” In revisiting a place after many years’ absence there is no doubt that one runs the risk of disappointment and disillusion-—friends and acquaintances havo dispersed,. and the “ old house,” at which one spent so many 'happy holidays is tenanted by strangers ‘‘who know not Joseph.” I allowed my curiosity, however, to outweigh any sentimental diffidence I may have felt, with the result that I found myself one afternoon journeying out to the little Taieri town of Mosgiel. Changes which the years had brought were soon apparent. Twenty-five years ago there was only a single line of railway between Dunedin and Mosgiol. In the interim a double line had boon constructed, and the train showed, an ability to hustle that was less noticeable in the old days. The straightening of the track and the reduction of gradients have been material helps in increasing the speed. Esthetic people will note that the name “ Cattleyards ” has been replaced by the more euphonious one of “ Burnside.” They will rejoice, also, that several of the stations have garden plots attached to them. Twenty-five years ago the racecourse at Wingatui had not been constructed. and the many handsome residential houses at the foothills bad not appeared. Whan I alighted at Mosgiel more changes were apparent. I noticed that the site of the station had been removed farther south, no doubt to the distress of passengers prone _to be unpunctual. The station building was bigger, the railway yards more extensive. I looked for, but did not find, the old horse cab and the jaunting car that used to ply to and from, the station. Instead I saw a, luxurious-look-ing motor bus, into which people were crowding. Near by were other things not present 25 years ago. One was a motor garage, with its two kerbside outfits or pavement petrol tanks. A Taieri Rip Van Winkle returning to Mosgiol after slumbering for 25 years in some recess of the Maungatua Mountains would surely find these petrol tanks puzzling. He would wonder whether they were new-fangled village pumps. Nor would it add anything to nis understanding to be told they were just “bowsers.” The main street of the borough did not seem greatly different, yet changes were apparent. The principal bank had changed its habitation. The Baptists had erected a new church—a substantial two-story building. A public hall commemorating the Coronation had come into existence, and at the farther end of the town was a row of new shops that would do credit to a much larger town. Many new houses had been built, testifying to prosperity and the adoption of a more ornate, style of architecture. The town had added to its amenities by the introduction of electric light, a drainage system, and a water supply, entitling it to the designation of “up to date.” I noticed that the old bank premises are now used as a shoe store, but the iron, bars guarding the windows still remain. In years to como the origin of those bars will bo forgotten, and some local antiquarian will bo asked, to explain. ■ Mosgiol still retains one representative of that diminishing institution, the shoeing forgo, and , school children, wide-eyed and wondering, still gaze into its dim interior listening to the roar of the bellows, the clang, clang of the anvil, and watching the smiths boating and bonding the glowing iron. fn Mosgiel, as in other places, the substitution of the horse by the motor is, of course, going on , steadily. Twenty-five years ago motors in Mosgiel were unknown. To-day I observed tradesmen delivering their goods by motor and showing no sign of doing anything unusual. Twenty-five years ago the procession of vehicles on the road from the city to Mosgiel on Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays was horse-drawn. A ' certificate for proficiency in driving was not considered necessary. Even if left unguided, your horse would generally take you safely somewhere. The Scottish accent which was so characteristic of Mosgiel in bygone days is still noticeable. At any rate, when 1 entered one of the shops I was greeted m good Broad Scotch. It was like meeting an old friend whom I had not seen for many years. Accent is catching, and I wonder how the Chinaman who has set up as a fruiterer will be affected. Next time 1 see him will he wish me a “ gaid day ” and inform mo that his apples are “ braw,” and that I can buy a “ poond for saxponco ” ? A quarter of a century ago moving pictures were seen only in the larger towns, and then intermittently; to-day the “movies” are Mosgiol’s most regular form of entertainment. The rising generation may bo inclined to condemn those bygone days as dull, but let them be , charitable. Remember that the sophisticated youth of 1952, enjoying pleasures ami experiences at present undreamt of, will regard these days as tamo and uninteresting. A feature of Mosgiel not present 25 years ago is the soldiers’ memorial, erected in the park to perpetuate the names of the little town’s representatives who fell in the Great War. I remembered that the Boor War was in progress at the time of ono of my previous visits. Little did I think then that a quarter of a century later I should ho looking at a memorial of a far greater war. , Mon come, men go, but the everlasting hills remain, and Saddle Hill, as of yore, still keeps watch and ward over the town. It is my hope to ascend its steep side once again and to look down on the plain, with its fields and farms, trees and streams which form so beautiful _a chequered pattern. Those Israelites, when they looked out upon the Promised Land, may have viewed a fairer prospect, but I doubt it. But while one ponders over the changes which have taken place during the last 25 years, one also speculates as to the progress likely to bo made in the succeeding quarter of a century. Almost certainly electric trains will be running to and from the city with a frequency that leaves less time for waiting passengers to view' those striking holiday posters which invito them to journey across summer seas to the farther ends of the earth.

The main wide thoroughfare will he bitumenised, while the homes of the residents will he equipped with electrical devices and wireless apparatus at present undreamt of. By that time, also, an air-taxi system to the,city will probably have been inaugurated, and residents of the borough patronising the service will hop over the hills, and almost before you can say “Jack Robinson” will bo comparing their watches--with the Town Hall clock .in Dunedin.