"ALIEN'S" LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 2674, 14 June 1905, Page 67

"ALIEN'S" LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

(Specially written for the Witness Ladies' Page.)

THE EASTER EXODUS.

Cold easterly winds and squalls of hail and rain heralded the long-looked-for Maundy Thursday, the great day of the Easter exodus. For a week or two pretious to the holiday which comes as such a welcome break in business after the long winter months the weather had been mild and sunny, but writing now from a window overlooking the famous Channel (a stone's throw from the old historic castle from the -windows of which Nelson and Pitt gazed while planning Nelson's last campaign), the waters look dun-coloured and sullen, and the craft is foregathering in. expectation of a coming storm. But the weather did not seem to affect the exodus from London. Crowds congregated on the platforms of Victoria and Waterloo, and the Great Eastern and. Great Western railways both ■were taxed *by every outgoing train to their full -carrying capacity. The boat train that leaves Victoria for Dover at 5 o'clock carries the Continental visitors to the boats waiting for the Channel crossing ; and this was a record train, many fresh carriages being added before the start. It makes but few stoppages, Maidstone being the first j then there is a. long run almost- to Folkstone, then Dover, the final stopping place being Deal. The crowd on the platform was a characteristic one — there seemed enough people there to populate a small town, and more than enough to crowd many an English village. Not only to crowd it, but to enrich, and distinguish it, for the attendant liveried footmen following my lady with shawls and rugs and books, and the following waiting-maids and the piles of trunks, and the carefully-carried jewel cases, and salbon carriages marked "Reserved," told there were personages, and perhaps millionaires, on the move, on whom the porters waited expectantly. The crowding of the second-class carriages told that the comfortably rich were in force also, and the not less crowded third-class, whose chief aim was to get away for a sniff, of the salt sea, were by no means reluctant to leave London for four or five days, although their travelling might not be luxurious; and an invitation to the coast was by no means to be despised for necessitated "economy in travelling there, for a fare which runs to close on half a sovereign keeps the passengers to the "genteel" class, so genteel many of them, especially among the poor- gentlewomen-, that even thjs small luxury has had to be sacrificed for.

This one tram is typical of many hundreds that will run during the Easter holidays from the dingy environs of the Lon-don-stations to the sweet, though 'cold, air of the open spaces. The roar and din under the great domes, cabs rattling in by the hundreds, porters (who always seem alert and brisk for the "tip" of twopence, ranging up, according to the means or generosity of the traveller, to silver, with an occasional glint of gold), labelling, trucking, and depositing luggage with civility and despatch ; people bumping into one another, officials shouting to laggards to hurry up, trolleys bumping into scurrying folk who have loft their head, the final banging of doors, the signal, the grunt and spurt of the engine — and then, off ! "I'm-glad-t-o-be-going ! l'm-glad-to-be-going !" the engine-puffs seem to say, and like a horse fresJi from the stable, the engine seems to bolt through the station, and all the black appendix of station yards, with their conglomeration of dark and evil-looking and odd assortment of sheds, tanks, and disused railway cars, turned into jobbing shops for the uses of greasy men, who swaini the yards ; then over the Thames, which lies in. a mist of grey, cold, sombre, sad, . its craft blurred in. outline, and the towers and domes on its banks ghostly and indistinct against the cloud-pall which Londoners call the sky. On past the unfashionable side of the river, through, Battersea, with a glimpse over its chimney pots at its pretty park, ttien on farther* into the suburbs, 'Tm-glad-to-be-going " puffed the engine. The Kentish downs were in their most verdant spring green, the little hills a patchwork of shades, from sage grey-green of the unopened leaf of the chestnut just bursting through it* sheath to the vivid green of the undulating meadows, hawthornJiedged in darker hue. The elm plantations skirting the faims were as yet without foliage, and the quaint nests of the rooks liigh up on the branches were visible through the interlacing boughs, many of these rookeries being hundreds of years old, and the owners of the nests as ancient in descent as the estate holders of whose fields they are the pedigree scavengers.

The buttercups in the -wet grass cried for the sunshine to illuminate their gold, and the primrose banks were sweet — a fragrant, a pale yellow carpet that was woven into the deeper shade of daffodils. Every brook and pond was full to overflowing, and the sheep with their frolicsome lambs had clustered on the higher land, or sheltered under the hed?es from the wind, which swept over miles and miles ol verdant country, through forest and coppice, from the ocean. The country grew more picturesque as the train penetrated the tunnels of the hills' or ran between deep cuttings, where, high out of reach, grew wallflowers of gorgeous colouring, and the hop gardens, planted and sticked with their supporting poles, made patches of leafless-lilce forest between quaint villages, old farmhouses, and manor houses lying in smi# and dignified seclusion in a fold of the hills or slope of the valley But everywhere the snow of fruit blossoms was gleaming white among the green, which, as the light fades, and

the sun, goes down in an angry west, takes on more and more the semblance of winter's covering. The train seems to race through the white twilight with a magnificent array of battle clouds, which sweep majestically through the upper spaces weirdly, like Roman chariots bearing knights and kings armed and crowned, the silver light picking out crowns and battleaxes ; but, faster than they and above them, a pioneer star leads the way. Folkestone, that beautiful watering place built between the hills and the sea, came into view, with its housetops gleaming in the after-glow, and its parade and esplanade and sweeping terraces glittering with lamps, the Dover harbour sparkling under the changing light, and the ruddy firelight gleaming from every open door. A prolonged wait for the disembarking boat passengers, then the tram, as though tired now with its journey, creeps between tbo evening bills, the .great yellow full moon rising above their ridges and silvering their slopes, lighting up the turrets of Dover Castle, high sentinel of the white cliffs, and touching with benediction the myriad' tombstones in the city of the sleeping lying below. Again the lamps acd lights of a living town, and the train ends its journey at Deal. Primrose Day (which came this year on Maundy Thursday) may be said to rank with the Londoner beside the other national festivals. Nearly a quarter of a century has hallowed its observance, and keeps the memory oi the great statesman green, or shall we say yellow? as that was the dominant note of colour in the on the Wednesday of Holy week. The beautiful starry blossoms with their delicate odour beguile the Londoner to the belief that Winter has departed, though painful reminders in the shape of hailstones are flung in his face by passing flips of the vanishing jade. The statue of Beaconsfield in Parliament square has had its yearly tribute of yePow blossoms, which were literally poured over it, relieved by a floral Union Jack and the^dead statesman's initials in violets.

Football is practically over, but the voice of the cricketer — or his bat — is heajd in the land, and all interested in the sport are lt gog in anticipation of a glorious season, the visit of the Australian team adding zesi to the sport, and in the villages, where the holidays are as faithfully spent as in more exciting centres, there is a great furnishing of cricketing things throughout the land — bats crippled from last season taken to ba respliced, — and Friday afternoon will see the wickets pitched on many a green or friendly farmer's meadow. The youngsters of the outlying districts will mark the day by a special fe_a.at of hotcross buns and brandy balls, requiring a dip in the little hoard saved up for weeks past fci Easter Monday expenditure, when the roundabouts and swings and travelling shows will be in full career, presided over by the motley crew that torn- the country in search of hkely spots where past experience Jeads them to expect a harvest of coppers. Easter Sunday will see the donning of new clothes— in event in the year in village life. The new suits of the male folk have cost many an anxious thought, and when donned destroy the characteristics of Hodge even more so than do the new garments of his lady who walks out with lam to church in her purple gown and rosetrimntPii hat, and loiters with him afterwards in the churchyard or in the lanes, he sheepish, yet proud in his brilliant, coloured tie.

A message tiuly alarming to Londoners ■was sent off from Grimsby, the great fish port— That owing to the gales of yesterday the fish and market was empty, and during the great Lenten fast a greater demand li-id reached the North Sea ports than ever before, and the supply brought in by the trawlers amounted to less than on any ordinary day. The quantities of fish seen in thefishmongers' shops at this season of the year are usually a sight to behold, and fishdealers from the merchant to the man -with his barrow, look to make a harvest at fishfeast season ; but in England man proposes and the weather disposes.