LOCAL GOSSIP.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20152, 12 January 1929, Page 1 (Supplement)

LOCAL GOSSIP.

BT ME2.CCTIO.

A weathec report issued on Sunday right last, and published on Monday, said s cyclonic storm was approaching and the Waikato would be particularly affected. It Mas not far wrong, for on Monday holiday motorists who had returned to town proceeded to say what they thought about certain roads. It was a storm all light, and the Waikato, at least Lower jWaikato, was the particular target of animadversion. ' Deep depressions are somehow associated with cyclonic storms. Whether the depression produces the storms or the storm the depression in nature is a question for the meteorologist to answer; but if what the motorists said about the roads did not produce a deep depression in the minds of those jesponsible for tljeir condition, it ougM to have. If words, accompanied by evidence—not, in this instance, concrete—have any effect, these people should resolve to mend their ways and their roads, and to be better road-makers in the future.

The railways of this country are doing bII kinds of things to attract custom, and so increase the revenue which is needed to keep them going and meet the small interest bill which, one hopes, is continually in tho thoughts of tho most recent recruit to tho service as he goes about his duties. The people of the country look on in a spirit of admirable detachment, not bothering much to realise that if the efforts of the staff are not successful it is they who must make up the difference. It seems to be the usual way of regarding publicly-owned enterprises. ' If there is a competitor, out. to make profits, the public patronises him and then says hard things about its own property if it produces a loss. After this philosophic preamble, it may be remarked that tho New Zealand railways cannot hope to compare with those of India, where native officials seem to be perpetually giving the business of running them a twist of humour that should be invaluable as publicity. Hie latest instance concerns a titled Englishman, a member of the peerage, who, in travelling, fell foul of the stationmaster at a small wayside station. The argument became heated, and was then ended by the man of. title using his boot with painful vigour on the official. The incensed Etationmaster immediately reported to his nearest superior, who, knowing nothing of the affray, was bewildered on receiving & 'telegram saying: " The Lord has kicked me. What "shall I do?" What he replied is not recorded.

An argument is in process on the very important question whether the mail in the street, or on the kerbstone, should call the vehicle he awaits to carry him home a tram or a car. Somebody started the ball rolling by asserting that to say car instead of tram is an Americanism, and that he had never known it to be done anywhere in the Empire sa%°e only Auckland—Auckland, last, loneliest, loveliest, on which the unchanging seasons smile while the obtuse population pollutes the air by calling a tram a car. 'lhere is one other thing about Auckland —it is a place where an argument can be started very easily, and it has been. It is an important point, whether to take a tram or a car; don't take a motor-car, because there is far too much of that going on as it is, and the police are kept quite busy enough trying to trace missing vehicles for infuriated owners. It is unfortunate, perhaps, that neither Mr. Outram nor Mr. Carr can be called in to settle. the argument. So some other means must be found. Of course, there it a new and extremely zealous transport board just settling down to its job. What could be more appropriate than to have it decide what the public ought to call the tramcars it is to take over from the City Council next week? It could very well deliver the verdict; and, in addition, it might so shape its policy that the man in the. street, already cited, will cease to call the tramcars some of the things he has been calling them for a long time past. -

After having existed for so long as an open space, but not exactly a beauty spot, alter having been the target for innumerable bad jokes—Mercutio has to, plead guiltv to a few—the Civic fequaio is moving at last. In fact, it is moving literally, since a few hundred tons of its soil are to be snipped a} va y hy a vessel sailing for Australia in ballast. [Will the crew of the Olivebank, one wonders. realise as they walk her decks what historic soil, what a symbol of schemes t hat came to nothing, lies beneath their feet ? It has been described as common soil, but that is quite wrong. It is no common soil, though it has been used for «. long time for the parking of motoroars, to hold the soap box from which the political aspirant or other public orator held forth, and for a variety of other purposes, few of which produced any revenue for the municipality in which it is vested. It. was on offer for a time as the centre of Auckland, which means, naturally, the centre of the universe as nearly as it can be determined. It missed that chance of immortal fame just because the citizens and their duly elected representatives could not see eve to eye on the policy that had been shaped for its utilisation. It must therefore go down in history as the land that nearly Kot there. As such it cannot be classed as common soil.

An advertisement has appeared likely to cause a panic among agricultural workers. A farmer seeking an assistant has expressed the desire that in addition to the ordinary accomplishments of rnilking and ploughing his employee should be able lo piav the piano, jazz music preferred. The advertisement also states that the young man may secure an engagement in a local orchestra. Playing music far into the night and rising early next morning to attend to the cows are two operations that cannot be reconciled. To keep a herd lowing impatiently to be milked while a saxophone encourages dancing is an offence against rural industry and ought not to be encouraged. A man who attempts to revolutionise farming in the manner stated in the advertisement should find his own solution to the problems the new system would present. Perhaps he will need to do so when the jazz expert arrives to work..

A lady ha:; climbed Mount Cook, and some people reading the account of her exploit will be surprised to note the small number of times .Mount Cook has been climbed. It is appropriate to remark. therefore, that not everyone who goes to Mount Cook climbs Mount Cook. Few try to do it; few would be allowed to try. It is necessary to be a rlimber of extensive experience and approved physical powers before an attack on the great peak is possible. To have actually gone there and returned is a feather in the cap of any mountaineer. Any Aucklander planning the trip and wishing lo tackle the mountain in earnest had better start off by at least climbing Kangitcto before he goes.