ROUND ABOUT WELLINGTON.

Otago Witness, Issue 3830, 9 August 1927, Page 34

ROUND ABOUT WELLINGTON.

By

Pencabrow.

(Special fob the Otago Witness.) August 4. In youth we gather rosebuds if we are human, so why not make hay in later life when the sun is pleased to shine—or even make capital out of atoms, bricks, fullstops, commas, and other uneonsidered trifles? By pure accident the printer of the Otago Witness gave the Hawke’s Bay Tribune a good advertisement for Havelock North, where that paper has some interests ami a prosperous-looking office- This scribe, in writing of the Havelock Hills, mentioned a garden in which oranges, passion fruit, and tree tomatoes ripen in winter-time, and where “we made hay generally, etc.” But the printed passage read, “ and we made hay, generally pausing to admire the long line of snow-clad ranges,” etc. Perhaps it was a dweller in rain-soaked Dunedin who took this for a fairy talc (I refuse to believe he mistook “ Pencarrow ” for a false witness). The Tribune heard about it. Hence the advertisement, headed “ Making Hay in Mid-winter.”

There are more things in heaven and earth Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

And this reminds me that Allan Wilkie has promised to return in 18 months with at least live other Shakespearian plays. This pleases us. If the Railway Department was not having such a bad run with slips on the line I should add my voice to the popular cry that this Shakespearian company shall be assisted on its way, for this country is strong on education. I observe that Mr Tom Seddon, M.P., has raised the question in tnc House that Wellington's front door faces north, and the road leading to it is called Hutt. Parallel to the road run two railway lines ; one of them across the road by a viaduct just outside the city, and there bores into the hills en route for up-country. A slip came down on Saturday night this side of the tunnel, ami a goods train ran into it. Twelve trucks were derailed, and one of them crashed into a railway cottage where two children were asleep in one bed. That boil was wrecked, but by a miracle the children escaped uninjured. The engine driver ami the fireman were not hurt.

Hundreds of people took a walk on Sunday to see the sight. This is Thursday. All the mess is cleaned up, and the trains are running as usual, but some people are never satisfied. Passengers have been grizzling, not because they had to entrain at Ngaio, but because the Paekakariki refreshment room could not cope with their unexpected appetites. Too many cooks spoil the dinner. For a day or two there

was congestion—and indigestion, which is much the same thing. (1 know those sandwiches). To the flying of flags and the music of bands Horatio Bottomley left gaol in England last week. Here with the public muttering hard words, two men, convicted of causing death by recklessly driving a stolen car when druuk, are entering gaol for periods of 12 and 9 months respectively. Women, ignorant of the law, believed and hoped they would be committed for 15 years. T’nese men made children fatherless and widowed a young wife. Remorse may prove their worst punishment, and it is very certain that their release from gaol will not be the signal for hysterical public rejoicing. The law provides a penalty for all breaches of regulations. This community desires to know what punishment awaits the man who merely smashes the stolen car he is driving when drunk, and what happens to the sober car owner who, driving too fast on an errand of mercy, collides with another car, and kills its driver?

The women’s’ branch of the Farmers’ Union met in conference here last week—incidentally, they combined some pleasure with business. This is as it should be. They practice what they preach, for it is their ambition to lighten the lot of the backblocks settler. This altruistic movement has the sympathy and support of the Government, and as the aims of the promoters become more widely known the interest of city dwellers will be secured. A deputation has requested the Prime Minister to give free railway passes to the bush nurse and the visiting housekeeper who, through the public spirit and initiative of the union, carry messages of ’ good cheer to isolated settlements and backbloek farms- The deputation also asked the Government for assistance in the distribution of beoks and papers—gifts to lonely settlers and their families. These requests are receiving sympathetic consideration. The Prime Minister laughingly regretted that a straightout subsidy had not been asked for. His pleasant part, then, would have been to hand the worry over to the Hon. W. D. Stewart, Minister of Finance.

The public of New Zealand is altruistic. If there is a lame dog in the neighbourhood he will be helped over most stiles when his handicap is noted. There are some observers who look at the world from the comfortable security of a downy couch and through rose-coloured spectacles, ami it is not entirely their own fault if they have grown short-sighted. But downy couches are scarce r. wild; s ami only reached by the sweat of the brow and at the end of life’s long joi rimy. From fellow-travellers on that hard road comes quick and practical sympathy, and, generally speaking, the man who has been through the hard places is ready enough to stop and give a hand. The weather here is deplorable—nearly as bad as Dunedin’s, though the rain is not so persistent. At the moment of writing the sun is shining. Measles and mumps are prevalent and a peculiar kind of cold without fever, and bringing acute rheumatic pains and depression of spirit. However, spring is due soon. It is good for a dog to have some fleas —to keep him from brooding on being a dog. The young things here are heartened by

the bouquets recently thrown at New Zealand girls by Archbishop Averill. “He is a sound man ” (they say) “ with a knowledge of human nature.” A Wellington girl, writing from France, touches on the freedom enjoyed by New Zealand girls, and expresses appreciation of it. She says: “In France the mammas arrange ali the dances. There is no sitting-out. All these girls will marry, but they will have no real romance. Parents rake up the men from somewhere. It is purely business. Afterwards —well, there's is a rum code. Our way strikes me as more attractive.”