ROUND ABOUT WELLINGTON.

Otago Witness, Issue 3832, 23 August 1927, Page 34

ROUND ABOUT WELLINGTON.

By

Pencarrow.

(Special for the Otago Witness.) • August IS. Mr It. C. Kirk died at his home in Petone last Friday. He was a good citizen, and has left his mark not only in the profession of law, but in the affairs of the world around him. Much has been written, and more will yet be said, of the wise and able man whose interests were never narrow, and to whose unselfishness the community is very much indebted. It was not my privilege to know him intimately, but always 1 shall think of him as one who, by his life, proved that man can suffer yet be strong. This suffering was protracted, but to the end he would not surrender, and from some deep reserve he drew >'clp which enabled him firmly to grasp the reins ot business, and retain a cheerful, active interest in general affairs.

lie practised his profession here, and in Petone, where he took a leading part in municipal affairs, placing his -ide knowledge and varied talents at the services of the district where he made his ’ -te, and where his was a much-loved figure. He was an “ all-round ’’ sor‘ of man, an ardent volunteer in the ’eighties and 'nineties, a good shot with the rifle, a keen golfer, and a fisherman who knew every stream in his home country. Wide is the sense of loss, deep the sympathy for his widow and the family, but quickened, too, is our civic pride, for this most gallant gentleman belonged to us, and Wellington will not forget that he passed along this way. it •Sr # Change—all is change—the ever-moving present and the fast-receding past. Even our climate alters—so the old inhabitants say. They maintain that when they were young the weather was not so variable, the cold was less intense, and they did not suffer from those epidemics. “ Never heard of influenza when I was a child,” said an old lady the other day ; “ and as for these adenoids and new-fangled nonsense—well, we had no time for them in my day. Health talks in schools, indeed! Indecent, we would have called it and young teachers had something else to do. I don't hold with it, and that’s flat.” I murmured something sympathetic, and she promptly asked me what I was doing to stop it. So I asked her she had ever heard of King Canute, and reminded her that I am < nly a private citizen, not even one of the oldest inhabitants.

It all began by an unfortunate reference to G 1 nmorc road and the cabbage trees —the counei widening the former and cutting down the latter. Glemnore road is the continuation of Tinakori road. It runs parallel with the C rdens, and is the road to Karori. The cabbage trees have stood sentinel there for many years. They were planted nearly half a century ago, but their doom is fixed. “ I weep for you,” the Walrus said, “ I deeply sympathise.” Nevertheless, he sorted out the largest oysters. The council regrets, but must cut down the trees. There seems no other way—except by cutting down the bank on the other side of the road, and using eon-

Crete walls, etc., but we have enough cuttings round here. About 30,(XX1 tons of roek fell down the hillside on to the unfortunate Hutt road the other day. Thanks to the resourcefulness of the authorities the traffic was not blocked for long, but it will be months before the road is in proper working order, for many thousand more tons must come down before the hill is safe. The slip occurred exactly where another slip came down on Christmas Week, 1924. Then, as now, the railway line at the water's edge escaped harm. All these slips are caused by the incessant rain. On a recent fine day I went to look at the palm trees, and to see if the bulbs were showing yet on the grassy bank in the Botanical Gardens. The palms are still standing, but all trenched round. There are very few bulbs, but the rhododendrons are in flower, and hanging on a steep, grassy bank are plum trees, whose delicate pastel-pink petals make a pretty picture. There is not a hint of colour in the rose garden, but that shelter <1 . .ok is warm and pleasant even on an August day. It is a good place for visitors to idle at. this season of the year. There is running water just outside the enclosure, and the birds are always calling in the trees.

By now all New Zealand will have heard the awful story of the Wellington man who touched a faulty radiator while he " listened-in ” at a house supplied with the new power at 230 volts. He was very nearly electrocuted, but having recovered from the shock he now warns the public of an unsuspected danger. " No—and I don't hold with these ridiculous headphones, either," says my old lady. ” Nasty, dangerous things. 'rhe telephone was bad enough " and she is scandalised to hear of a young man in Wellington who uses his wire mattress as an aerial.

“ Mark my word. He'll be burnt in his bed some day, poor lad,” she says. She asks me what an aerial is? And thinks even less of me now she has liad tny apologetic reply. Quire new to Wellington is Allan Monkhouse's play, " First Blood,” which the. Repertory Theatre Company produced this week with great success. It is a “ strike play ” with dramatic situations, and from every standpoint is interesting. New talent is being discovered by this Repertory Company which produces plays which New Zealand audiences would have no other opportunity of seeing. Heifetz is here in great r The younger generation is indulging in mumps and measles, so is conspicuous by its absence from concerts and other entertainments just now. The holidays are upon us. Everybody seems to have been in contact with something, and parents ate rather reluctant to let their children go out of town. Boarders returning to the bosom of their families will probably develop something in the future —not necessarily the near future, for most of these mumps people believe in “ suspense.;’ Generally speaking, they wait for 21 days after the other fellow before declaring they have ” a funny sort of feeling just down here.” However, it's all in a lifetime, and very few people get the thing twice.