NOTES AND COMMENTS

Patea Mail, Volume XLVI, 7 September 1923, Page 2

NOTES AND COMMENTS

(By 0.5.)

The blueguni blight is very bad in the Hangitikei district, the trees looking for all the world as if a tire had recently swept through them. The blight does not appear to have reached this district yet, but, like the rest of the plagues, it will no doubt do so before long. The blight is very like the firc'blight that attacked fruit trees in this district about 18 mouths ago, and it seems impossible to get, rid of it except by cutting the trees down —a fairly tall order.

Talking of long-suffering people, Mr Jonah considers the people of Marton must be more long-suffering or more tired than the people of Auckland, otherwise they would never tolerate the state of things that exists with regard to their railway station. Outsiders, particularly people from overseas, would never believe such a state of things existed. Here is a town of 2000 people without a railway station, yet 'the railway line actually crosses its main street! It is true it crosses it about 400 yards from the first shop, but why not put the station near the intersection instead of about two miles further away? I do not know any other country in the world where a similar state of affairs would be allowed to exist. I saw Mr Jonah recently, and asked him for further railway adventures, knowing that he had done a good bit of travelling lately. His reply was straight and to the point. “The more 1 see of the New Zealand snailways,” he said, “the less do I think of those responsible for their management, or mismanagement, I should say. Take a ease in point—an express arrives at Auckland from Wellington crowded with passengers. There is not an empty seat, in fact. It arrives half an hour late, and the passengers arc eager to get to their respective destinations. A large number desire to leave luggage in the luggage room, whilst others wish to claim luggage that has been checked through. Would you not think that the railway authorities in a large city like Auckland would have a long counter in their luggage room with half a dozen clerks to attend to the wants of the travelling public? Instead of this, what do we find? One small aperture and one solitary clerk to do the whole work. On Sunday morning last, the scone reminded one of a crowd outside a theatre. When approached with regard to checked luggage, the harassed official replied: “How can I hunt for checked luggage with all this crowd waiting to deposit their parcels? You’ll have to wait until I have got through with them.” And they had to. The Auckland public arc notoriously, long-suffering or they would not have put up with the apology for a station' as long as they have. 9 0 0 0 Once upon a time in a certain hamlet a philanthropic project which necessitated the purchase of a piece of land was mooted. A sympathiser with the project offered to provide the sinews of war to enable the promoters of the movement to get the very desirable piece of land required. The donor imagined his offer would be accepted with thanks and the simple transfer would be made. But he reckoned without the law. When the necessary deed came to be drawn up to put everything in order it was found that the transfer was not ns simple as it looked; in fact, the conditions insisted upon in legal phraseology made the whole thing appear in rather a wrong light. It reminded one of the story of a man who offered another an orange, with the words, “Here’s an orange for you,’’ and the recipient said, “Wait till I get my lawyer to put your offer into legal phraseology; and this is what the donor was asked to sign: —“l hereby give and convey to you, all and singular, my estate and interests, right, title, claim, and advantages of and in said orange, together with all its rind, juice, pulp and pips, and all rights and advantages therein, with full power to bite, cut, suck and otherwise to eat the same or give the same away with or without the rind, skin, juice, pulp or pips, any, thing hereinbefore or hereinafter or in any other means of whatever nature or kind whatsoever to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding.” There is no wonder the donor shied off, refused to sign, and put the orange buck in his pocket,

Mr Jonah wont on to say that if there is anything wrong on a train he is travelling by he ’ll certainly be mixed up in it. Had he been in the smash at Ongaruhc he would have been in the second carriage for sure, and to-day would probably be cither sitting in state on a red-hot plate or playing a harp somewhere else. Last Sunday he reserved a seat ou the Auckland express, and was allotted seat lS T o. 15 in carriage Y. Carriages, he explained, consist of 50 seats, numbered 1 to 50. The carriages are divided in half by a partition, consequently seats 1 to 15 are in one half and 16 to SO in tho other. A big label is stuck on the end of all carriages, giving the numbers of the scats in that portion and the letter allotted to the carriage. On Sunday Mr Jonah found that the porter had labelled tho 1 to 15 portion 16 to 30, and the 16 to 30 half 1 to 15. Consequently, a passenger who had seat No. 30 wanted to collar Mr Jonah’s scat until our friend had pointed out the number above the scat and had drawn the guard’s attention to tho obvious error in labelling. Mr Jonah consoled himself with the thought that he was bettor off than Patca's Mayor and Town Clerk, who after reserving seats found they had 'been given seats on the wrong train!

Hero is a charming story of the war, as told me by one of tho principal actors in it. He was a full-blooded Maori, well educated, and speaking beautiful English, having been educated at Te Auto College. When war broke out he was one of the first to offer his services, and was given a commission in the Maori contingent. After seeing service at Gallipoli, ho wont to the Western front, where ho contracted fever, and was for a time in hospital. When convalescent he went up to Loudon one day and noticed a very beautiful girl, faultlessly dressed, who gazed at him with interest, so much so that he was tempted to raise his hand to the salute, whereupon she smiled. With that devil-may-care and captivating manner so characteristic of the colonials, he wont up to her, and, bowing, said, “May I take you for a drive?” She replied instantly, '‘Yes, you may, if you will allow me to be hostess,” and she thereupon hailed a taxi and gave the driver instructions, which the ‘ ‘ digger ’' did not catch. After a while he found they were speeding away into the country, and he asked her where they were going. “Home,” she said, and a minute later, “Hero we arc,” as the car sped through a magnificent gateway. Tho “digger” nearly fell through tho bottom of the car when he saw before him a magnificent castle, centuries old. He was taken up to the house and the taxi dismissed.. The rest of the day he was treated like a king, his hostess, taking him all over the place. After an elaborate dinner and further sight-seeing, a chauffeur brought round a splendid Rolls Eoyce car, in which his hostess drove him back to his diggings, remarking on the way that she had had the happiest day of her life, and was praud to entertain one who had come from tho extreme end of the earth to fight for her and hers. She was tho daughter of an Earl and a member of one of the oldest branches of Britain’s nobility.