BY THE WAY

Evening Star, Issue 22572, 13 February 1937, Page 2

BY THE WAY

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** The time has come,” the Walrys said* i l To talk of many things.” Mr Nash is nothing if not wholehearted. Even Solomon, who “ spoke of trees, from the cedar that groweth in Lebanon to the hyssop that springeth out of tho wall,” restricted himself to the vegetable kingdom; but Mr Nash praised everything produced by New Zealand, from the glo.w-worm that shineth in Waitomo to Katherine Mansfield, who shineth everywhere. Perhaps Katherine and the glow-worm were deliberately, coupled as lightbringers. But one feels a little curiosity as to Mr Nash’s honours list of New Zealand products. I have a few in my garden which (I hope) were not included in the universal benediction. The New Zealand wood-louse, for instance, _ and the New Zealand earwig are thriving there —are they basking in the sunshine of the Labour Party’s favour? Are the twitch, loco, and white convolvulus flourishing like green bay trees under the gentle rain of Mr Nash’s blessing? If so, in my mind, a change of policy—or of Government—is indicated. Surely the Minister of Finance could stand up in ids strength and blast these products with a good mouthfilling curse. And why should Katherine Mansfield appear at the top of a long list, whose bottom is supplied by the Waitomo worm? Thi» Coronation contingent of fauna and Bora should bo publicly selected by ft oonunusion. Where does Jade Lovsioos ooine in? Or even admitting 4h* principle of “ place aux dames,” what about our flighty Jean ? I scent a horrid political plot to boost the North Island tourist resorts. This reference to Waitomo strengthens the suspicion, and it is high time some Southern Ogpu or Gestapo got to work and extorted a tearful confession from Mr Nash. Can’t we stage a trial? • * • • It’s most mysterious to me, The policy, of Franklin D. 1 had a hazy notion that He figured as a Democrat. J.e., a man who seeks to do Tho People’s will (that’s me and you). So Franklin, hy the People sent 'To Washington as President, Just took the People’s will as read And started on his own instead. .Their mandate was a cheque—a blank; The filling in was done hy Frank. But Presidents —or so ’twould seem— Are never totally supreme. A Court bestrides tho quarterdeck To keep the President in check. Its permanence and power exceeds The laws of Persians and of Medes. If any ruler should become Enamoured of the ways of Rome, Or surreptitiously begin A “ Kampf ” to imitate Berlin, Or, growing wild, and wilder yet, Initiate a Soviet, If, being pnt in power, he sought A crown and sceptre, throne and Court, Or made hered*ary Peers Of certain chosen racketeers— This same judiciary would make A frantic dash and grab the brake. Now, on this. Bench nine judges sit, And six, upon tho face of it, Are wise, but somewhat ancient men, Of three score years, plus more than ten. The rest may he, for all I know, Mere boys of sixty-five or so. So why should Franklin D. obey These dotards of a bygone day. AVho shake their hoary heads and call His acts unconstitutional — The sort of things that were not done By Jackson, Polk, or Madison? What use are ancient points of view Upon a Deal supremely new? Small wonder, then, if Roosevelt picks A youthful and progressive six To ginger up the Court, and move Those ancients from their senile groove, Alas! the papers hail his act With whispers of a Court that’s packed. The “Times’ remarks; “Adroitly planned. But indirect and underhand.” The * Herald Tribune ’ grows irate, With hints of “ bursting up the State.” And, home upon the western breeze, Come murmurs from Los Angeles, Insinuating that the trick Would absolutely beat Old Nick And all Inferno, for and aft, For sheer, unmitigated craft. So that is that, and there you are! The notion seems unpopular. But whether it be bad or good, True faith or loathsome turpitude— Well, who, outside tho U.S.A. Is interested, anyway? * » * » When does a “ district ” cease to be a mere district, and develop into a township? Well, I havo made a study of the question, and can offer a. few little helpful suggestions for those people "who are still uncertain on this very vital point. You see, if you come as a complete stranger and want to stand in well with the aborigines, you mustn’t insult a township by describing it as a mere locality or district. Imagine the wrath of the local Women’s Institute or Domain Board, or Hall Committee! And—which is more insulting—you musn’t describe a country town as a township. Now, please observe these facts, all you city dwellers who come to country places. If tho locality contains only a school, hall, church, and recreation ground, it may be quite safely referred to by the name of “district”—especially if the school, having been “ consolidated ” out of existence, is a mere shell, only inhabited when a jubilee arrives, and all its bygone scholars as-* semble to exchange reminiscences and dismal head-shakings over tho departed glories of the past. There may be a Women’s Institute —a Domain Board—possibly a School Committee—but these do not raise a district to the level of a township. Something more is required before the visitor need “ pause and consider,” as Para Handy would put it. It isn’t a county council office; I have come across these little affairs in places which no stretch of imagination would elevate to townshipness.

Nor is it a cemetery; districts can possess cemeteries _ and yet fail to reach the concentration point at which a township is born. So far the newcomer is on safe ground-even if there is a “ pub ” as well, for pubs can exist for nothing more than the refreshment of wayfarers on a lonely road. • * • • The first spasm of doubt enters bis mind when ho comes across a store in the neighbourhood. This—with its attendant petrol pump—immediately and automatically elevates tho locality into a “ borderline case,” and be will do well, if he treads as delicately as Agag before he commits himself. A mere wayside store with the other hereinbeforementioned institutions within a radius of less than a. mile from its counter, may well he regarded as a township—or it may not. Still, it is the best policy to adopt tho more charitable and complimentary view. After all, the store is the turning point; you simply can’t have a township, town, or city unless you havo a store. It is the rallying point of local gossip, the nucleus of a business area and centre of traffic. It breathes an atmosphere of trade and commerce. Add a garage—even if it occupies the crater of an extinct blacksmith’s shop —and you have an honest-to-goodness township, however small. The school, hall, recreation ground, cemetery, and church acquire a new dignity, which is enhanced, as progress continues, by a little cluster of houses. Later, fashion arrives in the guise of a golf links and a separate post office, divorced from the store, or wherever it had its former habitation. Footpaths line the roads for two or three hundred yards, and, behold! there is your township complete—but no more than a township, although the single store may attract a rival or two, and a baker or butcher, or both, begin operations. So it remains until something more happens to raise its status to that of a town.

Concerning tins latter something, I am dubious. A country town may not yet be incorporated as a borough or town district—-but it may be a country town all the same—if it has that something. It may bo a mere matter of population—so many hundreds dwelling within a mile or half a mile of the post office. It may be the formation of kerbing and channelling and a few chains of paved footpaths; but, on the whole, I am inclined to think that the outward and visible sign pf a genuine country town is a branch bank. It is hard to imagine a branch bank in a mere paltry township. Once you pass its threshold you feel that yon are in a town, whether or no its population has reached the four-figure mark. A district high school is the mark of a country town, too. Saleyards, a doctor or two, a resident parson or two, are adjuncts to its dignity. But I must .stop before I venture on the subject of cities. That is the Government’s business, not mine. All I can do is to throw down a few hints for the help of visitors who might bo tempted, for instance, to describe Mosgiel as a township.’’ or Waipahi as a mere district or locality, and thereby make themselves locally unpopular. * * * * Harold HuLm instituted a " sitdown strike ” when Florence Hurlbut refused to marry him. He chained and padlocked himself to a radiator outside her flat until she consented.—(Cable from Missouri, United States). ■ i< When Harold sidled up to Flo And popped the vital question. He got a flat, emphatic “No!” Conveying the suggestion, Both unmistakable and terse, That love for better and for worse, For richer and for poorer, With him or any other “ guy,” Was not the way she’d occupy Tho years that lay before her. Another man might roar and rave In disappointed fury, Or seek a damp, and clammy grave Within the wid© Missouri; Absorb the flowing bowl and say, “ La donna (hie) o mobile Or turn aside resignedly To press his second smartest suit On some sufficient substitute Who’d welcome it more kindly. But Harold saw no sort of fun In ways so wild and foolish. His love for her—the only one— Was dogged, dour, and mulish. He locked himself in chains before The flinty-hearted fair one’s door, A dumb, determined waiter; And; since ’twas winter in the flat, To keep his passion warm, he sat Upon a tradiator. Fair Florence came, fair Florence went, Fair Florence dined and slumbered; But Harold still, in fetters pent, Her doorway duly cumbered. For days and days the hero camped,His legs with pins and needles cramped. And still she saw him sitting. Until she grew convinced that he (To quote from Edgar Allan P.) Would never more be flitting. At last she cried: “ Oh, what’s the use? ' He’s utterly undaunted. I’ll say the word and let him loose, I’m sick of being haunted.” Tho wedded life of such a pair Should be a permanent affair. At least, as far as we know, There isn’t the remotest chance That such an iron-bound romance Could terminate at Reno.