"ALIEN'S" LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 2649, 21 December 1904, Page 74

"ALIEN'S" LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

(Specially Written for toe Witnes* Ladies' Page.)

THE NOISE OF LONDON.

Silence is one of the costliest of costly luxuries in this modern Babylon. In Carlyle's time he said the noise was "devilish," and even at his house at Chelsea, in the comparative seclusion of tree-lined streets near the river, he had devised many means, in vain, of securing a soundi-proof room. The nearest approach to it was a room he had built at the top of his house without windows, a skylight in the centre of the roof answering the purpose of supplying light and air. Under the skylight stood his desk, but, alas ! as well as light and air, smuts from the chimney-pots tell upon him.

To the highly-strung temperament this incessant noise is a great strain, a detriment to peace, if not to health.

Poe wrote an immortal poem on bells ; the bells of London would make a history if nothing more were written than the record of church bells. In the dirtiest, dingiest parts of London, over squalor and all sorts of God-forsakenness, church cells ring out resonantly and musically. A Sunday spent in London after a sojourn abroad may be marked off in hours by the bells. Bells .of old churches ring m early morning, as in the olden time, when they called those who had no clocks to mass. The sleepy citizen who has forgotten history, and only remembers that six days of the week he is tormented by the din of the city, startled from his ■sl»ep on the seventh day, consigns the most sacred of peals to condemnation. When folk went to bed with the ringing of the Curfew, the early morning chimes notified the hour for rising ; but the days of the Curfew are past — what would happen if all lights were put out in London at the close of day there is no imagining.

The ringing of bells and the striking of clocks are heard more distinctly as the daylight roar of traffic lulls. In the tower of the stately palace of Westminster the great clock marks off the hours, and the boom of Big Ben is heard often by, day, but more often by night, travelling far with the breeze. . Then, again, cab bells play a characteristic part in the sounds of the city ; they are, in fact, of its daily life, continuous and familiar as are the trot of the horse's' feet along every road y ,- north, south, east, or west, meaning merriment or pleasure, business, disaster, or ease. JDhere is no" corner of the vast metropolis where one can listen for a minute and not hear the tinkling bell to the accompaniment of the light, quick trip-trop that means a passing cab, late into the night to early morning, long after many" other sounds have died away. And the rush of tne electric car, sweeping at intervals through- the streets, passing andl repassing, with the loud jangling of its signal bells, seems for the moment to obliterate all other sounds, except it be the hoot of the motor, with its startling warning. Many of the main roads have been made unbearable for residence since the laying down of the electric lines, and owners of houses on the route sigh for the good old days of coaches. From Shepherd's Bush to Hampton was, before the advent of the cars, a rural drive, the broad road bordered in many places by trees and park; since the opening of the tramway many of the older and better classes of country mansions have changed hands, and have deteriorated in value ; the old school, who loved quiet and a residence far enough from the madding crowd, to make the keeping of a carriage a necessary dignity, have gone further away, where the crowd cannot be carried to their doors for a penny or twopenny fare.

The underground electric railway, now generally known as the "tuppenny tube," ■destroyed the peace of thousands in its subterraneous passage. The trains ran their cavernous course continuously, one behind another — one leaving a station for another to rush in with the roar of a monster trolley at great speed in a coal mine. Above ground! the houses built over and near the tunnel railway feel the vibration, and one can imagine how this must affect the nerves of the occupants, one vibration, with its muffled rumble, ceasing, anly for another to begin. Emerging from the underground, where the bowels of the earth have been pierced by the noise of the upper life, one is met by the deafening roar of the congested traffic ; all conceivable conveyances jostle each other, and, across their din, sharp warnings and janglings from bicycles and motor bicycles, and around it all the street cries of hawkers and newsvendors and a million voices. But perhaps the noise^ hardest to bear is not so much the roar of sound where thousands of sounds are blended, but in the side streets or localities far enough removed from the great centres for the roar to be lost and individual sounds distinctly heard. And these, from the clatter of the milk-cans at dawn to the last passing carriage at night, are in quick succession. The British householder is not absolute lord of his situation — he cannot control the traffic ; into the sacred environment of home many alien sounds penetrate-. Even in those streets \viich are shut to the eostermonger, the fog-signals fure<3 from the railway recall the lover of quiet from reverie.

Noise is the toll of civilised activity. Rural England is exempt from the torture of the city to which tlie world turns Us eves ; all things are to the moment here ; there is no sleepy country grumble that the mail is late ; if one "slumbers again" after the chuich hells and the milkman, the imperative "rat-taf" of the postman recalls the dozer to ■wideawakeness. And the 9 o'clock barrel-organ follows breakfast with its appeal for charity, followed in quick succession by the sweep-sweep-sweep-swee-up, who, having performed his uwning task up neighbouring chimneys,

solicits favours for the next day. Ths cat's-meat man follows on the heels of the sweep, with his sharp crp of "Meat, meat, cat's meat!" He informs others besides the cats of ths neighbourhood of his mission. Then come the coalcarts, and among these there is rivalry in every note in which "Coals!" can be called. The stranger would listen for long, and' still be ignorant of the meaning of the cries : every man has not only a different note, but a different call, which runs through the scale of "Coals," "Ols," to uncouth soundtt which are thrown from the chest, and sound like hoarse "Hug'Ti," bearing no relation to the trade represented. Then comes the second round of the milKman, with his "Mil-o-yoe-oh !" and the second post. The "'rat-tat" down the street is musical at this hour compared with the sounds that have come before, and, following, are all the morning tradesfolk with their various conveyances and knocks. Besides the legitimate tradespeople are waifs and strays of business — the-hawkers, — who, in loud, piercing tones* cry their '■Caul-i-flow-er! Pine large caul-i-fiower ! Beet, beet, beet -root ; one-a-penny beet !" and following comes the man with pot plants shouting their everlastingness. "Any scissors to grind? Scissors, any scissois or knives, knives or scissors, to grind?" demands the next voice, into which breaks that of the street-singer, droning the old, old drone about Joey dying, and no work to do. Then the softer, more musical tinkle of the muffin bell, beginning at one end of the street, growing louder, then dying away, but arousing an aggressive dog, which barks and barks till the offending muffin-bell is lost to the ear, and the afternoon organ-grinder and the Italian boy wit hthe concertina and the monkey share honours with a traction engine that is making a short cut to somewhere. And so one sound follows another far into the night to early morning, when the rattle of the last car and train * dies away, and for an hour or two London sleeps. It is little wonder that the weary city man pines for a week-end in the country, where is the peace of green fields hs can rest his nerves and gain control. And the week-end exodus is on the increase, and quite an important place has been given to the discussrpn of week-end cottages and how to build them cheaply and' furnish reasonably and comfortably with a certain amount of- artistic freshness. One need only go to the stations any Friday evening or Saturday to understand the necessity and to see how great a need the few days' quiet rest has become to many thousands of 'brain-workers, who, for five or six days out of the seven, have no place of absolut-s rest.

To ensure publication in the forthcoming issue Icttrrs should reach the Witness office if possible on Saturday night, but on no account later than Monday night

B^r Descriptio7is oj balls, <fee, must be. endorsed by either the Witness correspondent for the district or by the secretary to the ball committee. The MS of any correspondents who do not comply with this rule will be sent to the secretary for endorsement prior to appearing.— E3l3TELlNE

BAXL AT PORT CHALMEBS,

Bear Emmeline, — On Friday evening, 16th inst., under the patronage ox Captains Burton, Tt.N.B., Prosser, and Lowden. ihe executive and engineer officers of the Karamea, Aotea, and Waiwera tendered a dance to their many friends in Port Chalmei-3. The guests, numbering 90, were entertained in- the Foresters' Hall, which ■was beautifully decorated for the occasion with ship's hunting. The hosts were unfailing m their attention, and the able manner in which the M.C.'s — Messrs Brown (who also acted as secretary) Oliver, and Shepherd — discharged their duties was all the most fastidious could desire. Among the ladies present -were Mesdianies Prosser, black skirt, blue silk blouse; De Mams, heliotrope silk; Allen, black silk; Ste-\enson. handsome crean brocade; Cook, black satin; Hodges, pink silk; Mitchell , paje blue silk; Morgan, Cable, Crawford, Adair, Basire; Misses Oook (2), Watson (2), Allen, Borrie, Innes (3).,'Orniiston, Platts, Qoldie, Rennie (2), Murray, M'Callum (2), M'Donnell. Evans, Drumiuond, Piokard, Stevenson, Stephens, and Sniaill. The gentleanen present were Captains Burton and pTosser, his "Worship the Mayor (Mr D. A. -De Maus), Mx B-. G-. Allen, M.H.8., Dxs Hodges and Borrie, Messrs Mill, Eennie, Gcldie, Dodds, Mitchell, Morgan, Thompson, Stevenson, Cook, Cable, Stephens (2), Pickard, Crawford, and Sxnaill. Dancing was continued till 2 a.m. Shortly before leaving, Mt Eennie, 8.A., B.Sc, in a short happy speech, thanked' the hosts for their hospitality, the company rising and singing heartily "For they are jolly good fellows.' 7 To this Mr Brown suitably, responded. Himmell's orchestra supplied excellent music, extras being plcyed by Mrs Prosser and Miss K. M'Donnell. Tne proceedings terminated with the singing of "Auld lang 1 syne." — Guest.