BILL FROM THE BACKBLOCKS

NZ Truth, Issue 946, 12 January 1924, Page 3

BILL FROM THE BACKBLOCKS

PEEPS AT THE BIG SMOKE CITY SEEN THROUGH COUNTRY SPZCTACLES . Going Back Where Rubes Come From "Yes, I'm going back home soon. Can't afford to play the game here any longer. Besides, there's been rain out our way; the postmaster at the township — good old Blanky — sent me a telegram to the big General Post Office, telling me there's been nearly two inches — not a quarter enough, but sufficient to make tKe few remaining quadrupeds collapse from the shoek — that is, supposing they'd had enough strength to stand by the time the miracle .had happened. • "There had been no rain at all m our district for months, and only six inches altogether m the twelve months before that. Just a patch of manuka and a few bushes — that's all that was left to keep anything alive on the 'heavily-grassed, well-watered area' — vide official description— l selected twelve years ago.

"Out our way ■ we've had no butter for months, and we realise that those who continued to produce cream m years such as this deserve to be thunderingly well paid for it. . As for potatoes and North Auckland oranges, we may have dreamt about them sometimes, but mostly our dreams have been nightmares of flooded rivers. "How did I contrive m such hard times to get down here far a holiday? Well, I had about as much ; chance of coming as you fly city fellows have of being invested with ' wings, and taken up to heaven m your silk . pyjamas, if I had not spent a yellow half-sovereign that I was keeping as a pre-war relic on the purchase of two tickets m Tatt's.

"One of them was a lucky ticket which enriched me to the extent of £860 after the percentages, had been deducted, and, m fact, saved me from blue ruin. ••■•■•■■.

' "It was necessary for me to come down here to fix up things financial with a company which had acted as 'my uncle,' but a week was the limit I gave for seeing the sights and giving the girls a treat, though I really got thinking so hard about my good old woman out home that I quite neglected the latter, part of the programme. Anyhow, you fly city fellows perhaps give them all the treats that are necessary.

"When we arrived m Wellington a fellow with red on his cap came up and insisted on carrying my case and the bag of 'possum skins I'd smuggled into the carriage when the stationmaster, porter, shunter, clerk and general rouseabout at - — ■, was rowing Mrs. — — , who wanted herself and five kids to travel to Wellington as one and a half.

"Well, the fellow m the red cap grabbed all' Mrs. — — 's baggage, too, and the poor woman was quite delighted at such unexpected courtesy. She was terribly knocked back when he demanded half .a crown from her after moving her things to where the cabs were, and 1 can tell you I very unwillingly pa W the two bob he asked for his unsolicited politeness to myself.. ;

"To think of the taxes we pay, and all that we endure, that Bill Massey may spend the people's money on expensive gassing m England about 'our great resources,' yet vjrtien we come to ■the city they have,n't got even a Statepaid railway porter to wheel our luggage, aj|d we. are immediately bled by licensed sharks dressed up to look official. '7 •»•-

"They will be wanting us to pay the guards and engine-drivers next.' They tell me the red -capped fellows have been here for years. \t was the first time I met one, and I don't want to meet another/; I'm neither too proud nor too weak to carry my, own port

"After I had finished the argument with Red Cap I got Into one of the taxis, as. they -call them. Well named, too. I was taxen seven shillings for a ride to a hotel near a post office clock that plays tunes, and keeps people awak« waiting for the next part of the tune. When I last stayed at that hotel, ten years ago, I paid half a crown a night for my roonv This time I had to part up ten shillings a day.

"Ten years ago I could get a highclass feed there for two and six, ordering from the card. Now a man has consumed five shillings' worth before he has satisfied one of starvation's pangs. ■,

"And I don't thjnk the drought has anything to do with {heir prices either, because a fellow whom I know told me that it has been just as dear ever since patriotic traders began to take advantage of the war-time motto, 'Keep the homo fires burning,' and the loudest home-keeping patriots found it highly profitable to pretend to keep piling on the coals. <

"In my bedroom at the hotel I found pasted right m front of the lookingglass a notice that, if guests so pleased, they might leave their boots outside the door, but the proprietor would assume no responsibility m regard to their safe return. I Jumped to It that this was another mean city trick, which does the honest old-time boots out of a job, and also effects economy In night porters.

"Before the drought got too bad up our way we used to have a bath regularly once a week;' latterly we had only one a month, and used to whip the cat over that. I enjoyed the baths at the hotel, and, the better to have my moneys worth. I've had two hot baths and two cold showers every day Blnce I came to "Wellington.

.„ "I wanted to rent my room by the week, thinking that ther« would bo a reduction m price for the longer term, but the chief girl m tho office told me that the price would be not loss than five •hillings a night, no matter how long I stayed. I argued with her that the laundry expenses were less m tho case of the weekly tenant, but she said that coujd not be taken into consideration.

"However, I took it Into consideration myh-olf, and regularly every morning muflfied up the towels, sheets and pillowslips, und (luiib them scornfully on the floor, us an intimation to ull concerned that, though a bushwhacker and likely to be 'suspected of being unfitinlllar with the vellnements of city clvillHatioii. 1 wua ablo to play luxury stunts, and knew how to tret my moneys worth as well as anyone. Consides'lnK what' a crisis each wash-up has meant to us out our way for eight inonthH past 1 think 1 played the part of a baokblock's SOMEBODY very well. 1 know the tariff Is low compared to Home, but it 1h us much as used to bo paid at The best places once, when supercilious chambermaids were not so prevulont.

"When I was m Wellington ten yean ago I used to admire the droicos and complcxiout of the girls. Now that they all wear ovoning dreet m the daytime, they look like the half-ca«to womon of the backblocks, only that they don't tcom to carry themseh/es so well.

"They are low-stepper». not htgh*teppen«, and they havo a wny of eranintf tht?ir necks forward, which makes them look round -shouldered. Their eye* don't rove ho much an adopt v baby stare, and they go through lift? tin though it were a moving picture play, and not Aomethlnu hard and real.

"I Hi-cm lo liuvo noticed thorn a lot, yoj nay. Well. I'm not blind, and they want people to look at them, don't

they? When I go back I'll tell my missus that she need not be always lamenting her lost schoolgirl complex and her lost lightless of step. I shall be able to assure her that her skin and step will be quite the style, and that if she makes a long elastic waist to one of her colored nightdresses and does the block m it she will be as captivating as any of the flappers. '■.-..■■■ "What dp I know about flappers? Well, just as much as their own looks give them away, and don't you go indulging m intelligent anticipations about what I'm likely to say about that. But TIL tell you one thing. In these days and nights it's hard to tell who's merely silly or who's a shark— hard to tell by their looks and style, I mean.

"But I've been an ardent reader of 'Truth' for years. As you know, it circulates tremendously m the backblocks. And it has taught many of us to feel our way carefully m the city. That's why there are not so many bu shies taken down with confidence tricks and confidential ladjj.es as there used to be.

"Tell them m the office to be sure and send 'Truth' regularly. I don't know how I would get through without my weekly paper, though it's a week old when I get it."