WEATHER AND THE HOLIDAYS. “ALIEN’S” LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3593, 23 January 1923, Page 54

WEATHER AND THE HOLIDAYS.

“ALIEN’S” LETTER FROM ENGLAND.

I suppose that all over New Zealand he weather for the Christmas and New bear holidays has been more unsettled ran even our ever capricious climate ■customs one to expect. Seldom is it hat Southerners—except perhaps in the Iry districts of Central Otago and of 'anterbury—are favoured with bright and genial weather for both the statutory Christmas and New Year holidays. A southerly buster, with driving showers and a sudden drop to winter temperature is a very common Southland New 1 ear experience, and Dunedin, escaping the force of Antarctic blizzards, comes in for drizzling rain and mists and chill. But this year I think it is Northerners who have had most subject for complaint over tho holiday weather. Certainly Aucklanders have been peculiarly unfortunate. 1 hroughout mv stay there i do not think there have been two consecutive days without rain, though the rain might be limited to some heavy showers, with the greater part of the day fine and genial. Rain, in drenching showers, or in a misty drizzle, gales, thunder-storms. once attended by hail showers, have provided abundant variety'and prevented or spoiled many holiday outings. Compared with what a Southerner is led to expect of an Auckland midsummer, the weather has generally been cool, with several days chilly enough to make a fire welcome in the evenings. Not once has there been a hot night, scarcely a moderately warm one. Bad weather for New Year's Day was heralded by a falling barometer and unfavourable weather forecasts, and fortunately the rain came early enough to prevent pleasure-seekers setting forth oil excursions and picnicking expeditions. The day was windy throughout, with some fine intervals between rainy periods. A strong gale attended by heaw rain blew throughout the night. Tuesday morning steamer trips to Kawau and elsewhere were perforce abandoned, and though there were fine intervals during the day, probably few people ventured far from their homes. But on both days disappointed people migh console themselves that they were not beguiled by promised fine weather into setting off on lengthy outings, to be drenched and chilled anil made altogether miserable. One day towards the end of Christmas week a thunderstorm with torrential rain scattered out door pleasure-seekers everywhere, and wrought havoc among the gailv-dressed crowds at the Epsom races. The* thunder was not alarming, but rain came down in blinding sheets, flooding the footways, dienching people to the skin in a few seconds. These Christmas holidays have been rainy and stormy above the ordinary experience, but my own brief experience of it and the testimony of residents go to show that the Auckland summer climate is even more unreliable than that of the far south. Sudden hursts of heavy rain are certainly far more frequent. Take to-day as a specimen. After a cool night conies a bright, clear forenoon, with just sufficient breeze to temper the heat of the sun. A perfect summer's day! Well, early in the afternoon rain-clouds suddenly gathered, broke, and fell in a downpour heavy enough to penetrate all hut the stoutest unmbrellas and overcoats. After half-an-hour or so the rain ceased, the sky cleared,and there was blue sky and sunshine as before, hut this would not be much consolation to people surprised in the downpour, drenched and bedraggled. Such caprices of the weather are picturesque, but decidedly uncomfortable. I For a warm, steady, summer climate one should go to Napier, or some other jilace on the Eastern Coast. But it is hard to combine all climatic advantages; in regions of dry air and bright skies one commonly sees bare pastures and dried-up gardens even before the longest day is reached, and long spells of drought periodically harass the farmer. The frequent showers and the humid atmosphere of Auckland are favourable to plant growth of all kinds, and the environs of the city are now verdant; tree-ferns flourish unspoiled close to street and road-side, and gardens are gay with a profusion of flowers. Of the two I would certainly choose too frequent rain rather than too little. The moist warmth of Auckland, however, is found debilitating by many people, and I have heard that persons coming to -Auckland from a dryer or more bracing climate frequently suffer from rheumatism and neuritis. The same conditions, too, favour insect plagues of all kinds. The housewife finds that her preserves are apt to ferment or grow mouldy; clothes and boots mildew; needles rust; one finds one's stamps sticking together, and the flaps of one's unused envelopes gumming themselves down; j meat will not keep ; eatables of all kinds ' spoil quickly. And yet the thermometer readings are-seldom high; it is the combination of warmth and moisture that makes trouble. NThe prevalent sea breezes are a welcome relife to the midsummer sunshine, but scarcely mitigate the indoor steaminess and stickiness. One disadvantage of the Auckland summer as compared with that of Otago is the shortness of the days and the lack of twilight. After the evening meal there is little time for the gardening and outdoor recrea-

tions that in the south many be pursued up to 9 o'clock or nearly. The sun sets early and darkness rapidly follows. The vagaries of the Auckland climate certainly provide residents with beautiful material for conversation, and scope for the British privilege of grumbling; and, indeed, climatic uncertainties are a conversational boon to New Zealanders generally as well as to people of the British Isles. “A line day,” does excellently well as a friendly remark or an opening to conversation. It lacks originality; it states what is obvious to the person spoken to as to the speaker; but in a climate where line days are by no means the rule it is not meaningless. A fine day is a' subject for congratulation. And wet, windy, overcast, or cold days all provide their fitting comment with subject for prognostications and weather wisdom. In a climate like that of California where days of blue sky and sunshine follow monotonously on one another, ‘ a line day’’ must seem an inane remark, and where the weather at each season can be forseen with fair certainty, weather becomes an interesting subject. In our land it is perennially interesting. The unsettled weather of the summer holiday period up to the present time has brought disappointment to. many; in particular to those engaged in regular work and business who saw their two days New Year holidays spoilt. More serious still have the summer storms been to farmers and gardeners; spoiling hay crops and devastating orchards; sometimes sweeping away in an hour the fruits of a year’s toil. But whether the caprices of our climate disappoint us in the lighter or the weightier interests of life, the only resource is to accept the situation with philosophy and make the best of it. Bad weather should not mean a dull and unhappy day. And the ups and downs of life call forth foresight, perseverance, and courage to do and to endure.

(Specially Written for the Ladies’ Page.) AS OTHERS SEE US. November 28. London threw off the dark mantle of fog it had worn for several days, for the State opening of Parliament, and the November morning was mild and still. In the haze which shrouded the distant vistas of the Mall the splendours of the royal procession were robbed of "arishness; the crimson and gold of uniform ana trappings, the 'gold State coach, surmounted by its crow’ll, gently swaying on its springs and drawn by eight bay horses, with mounted lackeys wearing velvet caps and powdered hair, the dull golden harness, and the yeomen of the guard plodding on behind in the Tuedor uniforms, the outriders and postillions, emerged like a vision of the past when kings and queens went abroad not as other folk, but hedged about with pomp. The route was lined with top-coated Hoards. Last of the pageant of redcloaked mounted Guards and dress landaus was the state coach, through the glass sides of which the King and Queen could be seen, the King bare-headed, buttoned in a grey military coat, and the Queen wearing a cloak of ermine and a crown upon her grey hair. This is the first time that the gold state coach has been drawn by eight bav horses instead of the greys or blacks of the past. But these were maintained in the royal stables at a much greater cost than bays, which are not so difficult to match, hence the change. The House of Lords was a wonderful sight, and was so crowded with peeresses that most of the peers were obliged to stand. A minute before the King and Queen arrived the Prince of Wales walked briskly in (all trace of his lameness gone), and was escorted to his seat at the right the Throne. _ Then a moment of tense, expectant silence, broken by the rustle of gowns and robes as the whole House lose and bowed towards the King and Queen as they entered, escorted by the resplendent company of heralds, pursuivants, ushers, and high officers of State, among them the Lord Chancellor, the .Marquis of Salisbury’, bearing the Sword of State, and the Duke of Devonshire, with the Cup of Maintenance. As the procession passed each one bowed to the empty Throne.. 1 lie King, leading the Queen, was in scarlet military uniform under his royal robes; Her Majesty wore a lovely gown of pale gold, with the broad blue ribbon of the garter across her shoulder. Among her magnificent diamonds- was the famous Cullinan stone. * The King read the shortest speech on record from the Throne, and the new Pai liament was open. Th e speech only occupied two or three minutes. Then the King with the Queen rose and bowed light and left, and the stately procession reformed and passed from the" Chamber. Among the peeresses the Duchess of Sutherland wore a gown of gold tissue with a diamond tiara, ear-rings, and necklace ; the Duchess of Norfolk wore black and gold : the Marchioness of Lansdowne wore black and silver, with a beautiful diamond and pear-shaped pearl tiara; Marchioness Townshend wore black velvet with diamonds and pearls, and carried a large black fan ; the Duchess of Marlborough was in a cyclamen velvet and chiffon, with a diamond bandeau worn low upon her forehead; the Marchioness of Salisbury was in black and silver : Viscountess Grev of Falloden wore a white gown and beautiful pearls. The Duchess of Sutherland’s great political reception for the Prime Minister, on the eve of Parliament, was a marvellous crush. The Ducihess. Mr Bonar law, and the Duke received. Half the

peerage was present and a good many other people, who were glad to take refuge in one or another of the rooms thrown open to get away from the crush of the hall and great staircase and chief saloon. The West End is a continuous bazaar since the election. All the great ladies in London, when they are not attending society weddings, are, opening sales for the benefit of charities. But the character of the “bazaar” has so changed of late years as to be scarcely recognisable under that name. Either held at one or another of the fashionable hotels or in a famous residence lent for the occasion, these charitable fetes are sometimes more of the nature of a reception, where the hostess receives guests, than a public saleroom. An idea and a title is carried into effect—“ All in a Garden Fair," for instance, —and carried through in an entertaining manner. The visitors by no means feel outsiders, there onlv to purchase, but one of a community of helpers. The “party” spirit is cultivated and many generous and perhaps lonelv people interested in a society above their own go to enjoy tile charm and grace and beauty of the gentlewomen who sell things, and to get a peep in the Christmas L' airy'and they would not otherwise see. It is no small privilege to enter a great house or famous hotel, and, armed with the entrance ticket, many people with fat purses are quite happy to go and part with their money in the cause of the needy in this delightful way. To have a princess cr a duchess or society beauty or famous r ‘star” mvke up vour parcel for you, and talk quite Ntimately about your purchase and other things, is ouite a nice way for many amiable “new” or old rich to part with their money. As soon as December comes in the big emporiums and stores open their toy bazaars. .No clamour of the social sale here—purely business ; yet for multitudes of children a fairyland unspeakable. But I think that, my sympathies are mostly with the children outside, who flatten their cold noses against the window panes, gorging themselves in imagination (as does all youth 1 in what lies beyond the barrier. It used to be rav custom years past to wander about on Christmas F.ve and watch the poor shopping. Unto him that hath, a poor present is despised, but a bag of pennies makes 12 iovs to every shilling spent among the children of the London poor. I like the London “gamin”—smart, clever, cheeky, but grateful and quick to serve. After the state opening of Parliament the first Communist in the House of Commons was very aggressive over the subject of the unemployed. He demanded 35s a week dole for each man out of work, and bread if necessary up to 15s—that is, £2 5s each. The extremists ap pear to overlook the fact that the money of the Government does not grow, blit comes to the Government chest from taxation of the nation, composed for the most part of the producers and workers of the classes, and that business men and employers of labour can bear no more taxation and keep their businesses running, and if the last straw that breaks the camel’s back is imposed there will be no burden-bearers but numerous additions to the unemployed. The “idle rich” could be counted on vour fingers. Large landholders have been compelled to sell their land because of the taxes, and the possessions of supposedly rich people are inainlv in stock —in their factories and machinery, etc., not in money. Also, it is a regrettable fact that were the nation impoverished to pay the unemployed at the rate of £2 5s a head, there are thousands of slouchers scattered throughout Britain who would never work again—who even now prefer the dole and idleness to the best-paid iob in the country. The Government realises that the dole pauperises and demoralises. To the honest, industrious, competent worker it is a humiliation, accented for the sake of wife and children. These men throw off their obligation gladly for work, but the skracher, -whose pet occupation is supporting a wall or the portals of a “pub.” cries loudlv for “shares” in the fruits of his neighbour’s profits, not in his labour. Whv should the nation's workers and producer,-, be taxed at the rate of millions a week to keep this class of “workless” in idle comfort? The genuine “British workman” or woman is as fine a class as the world can nroduce—worthy the aid which the State owes it in a dav of adversity; hut that every wastrel idler (aliens “nationalised’ in law’, but not in interest or heart, many of them) should hold the country un and demand “Your money or vour life!”—No! J With the approach of Christmas the profiteers are slipping un their prices again wherever possih’e. Some dealers take a pride in exhibiting their prices, so that shoppers know them and decide for or against. Tea. butter, sugar, and bacon all have men in price. Why; Nobodv seems to know. There are abundant stocks. But some tradespeople take any excuse to keen the prices as near as possible to war prices. The extra pennies eome hard upon those with large families. Bread and milk have again risen in price, with the result that those who need these foods most have less of them.