THE OLD TOWN CLOCK.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 19031, 30 May 1925, Page 6 (Supplement)

THE OLD TOWN CLOCK.

BY QUIZ. So the old town clock, beloved of citizens a decade ago, may have the cobwebs carefully disted from its triple face, its works nicely ;oiled, and be rescued from the oblivion o| the cellar of the Town Hall and again swung high in a tower to tell the hours amid the charming surroundings of Rcmuera. I think all old citizens who knew it, will be glad again to hear the oltl veteran strike the tenor note as bravely as it did in the seventies, eighties, and nineties. What tales the ''old clock could tell of countless citizens who passed below it—oltl, young, happy, gay, sari, or sorrowing, the blithe tread of youth, the slow steps of age, the -Kaliedoseope of the y-ars, strange fashions strange folk,' foreign sailormen with, perhaps, rings in their ears, a fierce looking Maori chief in a mat. It was all the same to the oltl clock, it ticked on and kept its secrets. In the severities the beach cannot have been far from the site of the old exchange, and one can visualize the waters of the Waitemata lapping against the sides of the moored Maori .canoes, and the handsome wahines selling flax kits of luscious red-cheeked peaches under the shadow of the clock. Peaches, which, alas, we »iear about from very , old colonists, but have never had the privilege of tasting. I have talked with people who were, voting when the clock was young, and from what. I can gather life at the base of the Town, Clock must have flowed on calmly, and sweetly, a simple affair compared with the high pressure of modern times. Existence in those days was solid /ease and contentment, good virgin soil, for pavements, kauri gum for kindling to be had in one s back garden, and watercress almost at ones floor. I'till dress was a matter of no concern, Stetson hats and glad socks were unknown in the philosophy of the seventies. 'lhe greatest musical attractions were the Choral Society's concerts in the old Choral Hall, or a Imtjd might play on Sunday afternoons in the Albert Barracks, now the i hurt Park. There were no disturbing elements, such as discussions on microbes, auto-suggestion, dietetics, hypnotism, bombs, codlin moths, clecttic trams, evil . smelling motors, no inquisitorial inspectors, no brain fag through failure in st-an-dauls and other exams, or through doing cross-woid puzzles. Bachelors in those . days were' confined to the male sex, the • demure misses of the seventies did not ape them. Dull days one might think—no ginger, no flappers, nuts, picture-shows, telephones, aeroplanes, wireless, and all the ■ things we consider absolutely necessary in these days of much progress. How ditl they exist, we wonder. We forget it was just this quiet contentment, this indominatable energy and perseverance of these pioneer settlers of early Auckland, who have laid the foundation of this fair city and made it possible for us to enjoy the luxuries we do to-day. Ihey went ' without, that they might give more generously to those who came after them. So we take off our hats to those courageous folk who lived and loved and laughed and worked within the sound of the oltl clock, who bore the burden and heat of the day, that we might come into our inheritance. They cannot have been entirely without thrills in those days, for the clock bell was used as a fire-bell as well, and when an outbreak occurred it rang madly, and all the good folk turned out. From what one hears, fires were fires in those days, and the bucket brigade was formed of willing citizens. Of all the nocturnal sounds the uncanny and unearthly clang of a fire-bell waking one from sleep is for the moment a most terrifying one. This is a thrill we have dispensed with for some years now. For forty seasons in the tower of the New Zealand Insurance Company's building ditl the clock keep watch over the city. When the new building ,»as erected it was removed to Featnerston camp, and that brings us to the war years. This seemed to upset its equilibrium, it became erratic, it missed its beat—almost a human touch showing sympathy with the citizens it had served so long. Again its fate lies in the balance, for Parnell is in the field now. It has no clock and would like it very much. Who knows what other districts finding themselves clockless will not come forward as candidates ? Whatever the destiny of the clock, be it hung in Parnell or Rernuera, let there be no unseemly wrangling, for without being partisan there is a Gilbertian touch to Bornuera's request. The council are spending some £16,000 in this salubrious district on its library, certainly why not snap up the " unconsidered trifle " of the clock as well ? W r hv not have an interesting little public ceremony in the market-—I mean Civic Square—place '4ie names of the competing districts in the Mayor's hat, clinose the most innocent and beautiful-looking child possible, and after she has presented the usual bouquet to the Mayoress, let her dimpled hand decide ? Everybody happy! But what matter who gets the clock so long as it is put in commission again, set high in a tower for all .to see, its sonorous tenor note booming out once more for ail to hear.