“LIKE APPELLATIONS.”

Otago Witness, Issue 3854, 24 January 1928, Page 9

“LIKE APPELLATIONS.”

DUPLICATION OF STREET NAMES . . . I know not how to solve This doubt, for there are many, it appears, In various regions of the world who bear Like appellations ; city corresponds With city, -woman borrows that of woman, Nor must.we, therefore, wonder. . . . The wretched Menelaus, after seven years’ tossing in exile on the Aegean Sea, confronted with a woman whose face and form and name corresponded so exactly with those of his supposedly faithless consort, Helen, whom he. himself had cast into darkness and left guarded by his men, could not have been more bewildered at confusing coincidence and similarity than some of the hapless wights whose misfortune it is not to know Dunedin’s reputation for street name duplication. It was a broiling hot day. The pavements were hot and hard on the feet, and passing motorists raised clouds of gritty dust as they raced towards the main highways to town. In one of the back streets of South Dunedin an old man, who had watched full 80 “ fruitful years ’’ go by, trudged wearily along looking at each street signboard as he came to it. Eventually a reporter stopped him and found that the old man had three days before arrived ir Dunedin from Central Otago, and his chief concern now was to find High street, where his son lived.

The young man was instantly all information. “ Oh, you’re about three miles out of your way,” he said. “ High street is right in the heart of the city.. You can’t miss it once you're at the Stock Exchange.” Oh! is it? ” was the testy reply, “ not my High street. It’s not that one, I know. They told me to try out here,” he trailed off wearily. The walk in the heat and glare had worn the . old man’s temper to breaking point, and he was just about to make the luckless reporter the scapegoat, when that bright youth broke in. “ High street, St. Kilda! Oh! I see,” and he immediately explained how ha knew all about it, but had quite forgotten the one in South Dunedin. And off they went. Youth so glad to give age a helping hand. And then alas! It was a case of the blind leading the blind. A disconsolate octogenarian turned reproachful eyes on the cocksure young man. “ No, that’s not it,” he said, more in sorrow than in anger. “ Here’s my son's house in this photogranh, number ——. It doesn’t fit, does

Youthful eyes made a swift comparison, which showed only too clearly that the house before them would offer no filial welcome to the now obviously exhausted father. Absent-mindedly the reporter turned the snap over and gaped. There in. a neat compact hand was tha inscription, “ Our new house, High street, Maori Hill.” Too neat and compact was that writing for the aged eyes to read, but here was the mystery solved. Maori Hill! and young Mr Knowall knew nothing of it. He wag not to know that a few years ago (after the photograph had been taken) someone had noticed the. anomaly and half corrected it. His infallibility ’ shattered, and feeling thoroughly discredited, a subdued and humble youth gave hurried directions, suggested a taxi, and hurried off with many hard thoughts about the Citv (Fathers who allowed such duplicity to exist.

A municipal map supplied the rest. Leisurely scanning the list of street names the now once more infallible youth found to his amazement that in this relatively tiny city High' street was not alone in the distinction of having two other namesakes on the municipal street roll. Three others, at least, shared the doubtful honour. Moreover, half a hundred other streets had single namesakes, and doubtless each at some time or another has witnessed the self-same hopeless search. How long, O Israel, must the stranger within thy gates be humbugged, confused, and bewildered ! How long ! !