STATE HOUSES BUILT ON TINY SCALE

Northern Advocate, 28 May 1938, Page 11

STATE HOUSES BUILT ON TINY SCALE

Brieflets

STATE. HOUSES MAY BECOME FUTURE SLUMS. I had a good look over the State houses the other week-end. Without being unduly critical, I must say I fail to appreciate the cramped nature of most of the buildings. Some. I fear, would barely pass the proverbial “swinging cat” test. Not only arc some of the houses very small—the man-and-wife companionate idea is all the rage—but the grounds are su microscopic in many cases. With all the available space in the borough, and all the naturally beautiful spots wafting to be built on, why build, at this early stage of our development, structures which later may develop into slums?—“Give-us-air.”

WE MAY SOON ALL BE OLD MEN. Is it a good or a bad sign that Now Zealand’s pensioners are increasing Does it. mean we are getting to the stage when we are mainly old men, with only a smattering of the younger generation floating about? Prophets have bemoaned the prospects of the few-children morality of the 20th century, and have depicted vividly the future of the white races under such circumstances. They have been mainly laughed at. Now the grim fact is before us. Who is going to do the work when we are all old-age pensioners? Machines, ,you say? But experience has proved that machines create demands for more men. Is it possible that the great scientific structure we have erected is to fall down because there are no people to keep it working -—“Wisdom.” ★ WHO’S GRUMBLING NOW?

If it’s not the Weather it’s the price of butterfat. or the lack of electric supply, or the promised unpleasant winter; or something else. To the townsman the plaint of the farmer never grows still. To the farmer the townsman never grows tired of complaining about his complaining (the farmers’, that Is). Now if one complains because the other complains and the. two complain about all matters of common interest (for example, .Test Match, politics, price of benzine or beer, and football), what will be the sum total of.their complaint? By a logical supposition it will be one huge complaint. Every man and woman in the country has the bug for complaining. It may be a form of conceit, the ‘Tm-too-good-for-this-old-world” stunt/ But it certainly doesn’t make for the betterment of things, does it? No I’m not complaining, if you understand.—“ Quite Happy.”

WHEN JAP. MEETS CHINESE. Jap., meets Chinese and Chinese meets, Jap. One day the Jap army if in retreat, the next the Chinese are hoveling back into the recesses of inner Siberia, or wherever it is they have their backblocks. By what we hear from different people professing to know all about it the respective armies must have been doing nothing else but running hither and thither about Asia deciding whether the conquest of such-and-such a place was a victory for you or for me. As one American magazine put it, “the reports to date from the respective fields show that neither party has lost any men or any ground, while the opponents in each case have suffered considerably;” and leaves the reader to think out the riddle for himself. Now tell me, who is winning the war? Me or you?—“Puzzled.”

WHEN WILL THE TENSION BREAK? Once again the threats of a dictator hang like a cloud over the world. Some day men may come to a stage when they can breathe with a sense of security. At present we are like hunted beasts, looking for the enemy we hope we don’t find —every day fearing some terrible fate and watching our every step, believing that something is going to happen some time. Is it any wonder the universe is a mass of nervous people when each a state of suspense exists?— “Tonic.”

BOYS BRINK TOO MUCH.

Whangarei will take particuluar pride in what Mr Brake said at the initial meeting of the National Council for Physical Culture and Recreation. It will be recalled that Whangarei set the headlines scorching with its .talk of girls going to dances already ticketed so that the boy-friend (s) Could know where to take them if they happened to “sink too many.” When one sees the comparative ease with which young fellows over school age can consume as much liquor as they choose, it makes one conscious of the fact that all is not so well with us. Mr Brake has set people’s minds working, and if something more is not done it is not his fault. —“Fit.” 'k THE DEGRADATION OF THE NATIVE. What a sad plight has come upon the Maori, if what we read is to be taken as correct. We tried to make him like us, when he belonged to a race that could never see eye to eye with us. We are now shouldering the responsibility of giving him back a little of the things he had before —his ideas of life, his morality, his health and stature — all things which civilisation, as we have practised and taught ft. has taken from him. —“Hobo.” ★ EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY. Everything has its turn at being the craze. Times'in history are when the studious become the elite. Other times are when the “gadding young fool,” spending money on drink and women and races disproportionately, becomes the idol of society. Times are when the home is a home, and other times are when the home is a place to- eat (occasionally) and sleep in, and where there is always someone to turn out clean shirts and darn your socks. And when one lot is up-to-date the others take a back seat. So to the maurnful who fret for this generation’s frivolities, take heart in the knowledge that the pendulum will swing your way some day.—“Cheerup.” ★ THE LUCK OF SOME MEN. The bigger the better, seems to be the motto of the big-game hunter. The bigger the shark, the fatter the cock-pheasant, the longer the eel of Horl’s fame the happier the hunter’s heart at eventide. And yet it’s all a lot of luck. Why do men get their photographs in the papers because they happen to come across a big fish when they are dangling- their lines overboard? Or why should my neigh-* hour get back-pats all Monday because it transpires he fan across a monster cock-pheasant on Sunday afternoon, and couldn’t miss it if he tried? But no such luck comes my way. It’s just life I suppose,— “ Charm