OCCUPATIONS

Southland Times, Issue 20772, 13 May 1929, Page 5

OCCUPATIONS

ON THE LOWER RUNGS

EVERY MAN HAS HIS STORY

THE DUSTMAN

The work of the man who has reached the top of the ladder is generally well known, because it is assumed that the whole world is interested .in success, and the successful man is given every opportunity to place his views before the public. There is not room at the top of the ladder for all, but the man below may be. as successful in his work as those in the more exalted positions. The fact that a man’s work is not known in every detail to the public does not necessarily mean that it is without interest or that the man engaged in it does not see and hear unusual things during the course of his daily toil.

“He speaks the dustman’s language, ho ’ wears the dustman’s clothes” a once popu- '*■ lar song used to run. What is the dust1S man’s language? After full investigation, a Times reporter came to the conclusion I that the only time it is different from that y of anybody else was when, as frequently 0 happens in wet weather, his cart sticks in 0 the mud at the tip down by the estuary. Then it is closely akin to the bullockII driver's. 3 Nevertheless, there are several difficulties in a dustman’s life which also might tend r to make him relapse into the primitive y tongue of the Dustman. One of these occasions is when housewives thoughlessly 3 put out open garbage tins on a pouring ? wet day and apparently wait for the dust 3 to be washed away. Whatever their mental processes may be, the result is 1 disastrous as far as the dustmen are t concerned. The rain turns the dust into 1 sticky mud and it becomes almost imposss ible to tip the rubbish out. Often it be--3 comes necessary to scrape it out. There 3 is often a strange difference of opinion 3 also, one dustman informed the reporter, 1 between housewives’ estimate of human strength and the actual physique of the ‘ normal man. Sometimes, huge tins, almost 1 tanks, are put out, full to the brim of 3 often sodden rubbish. In order to empty 1 any tins, they have to be lifted considerably above the level of the shoulders and then 3 shaken; and the strain even with an ordinc ary tin Is great. “The council should have 1 a regulation garbage tin such as a few j sensible people have, round and with a lid to prevent the rain making the con3 tents sodden,” one dustman said. -Asked 3 what he drew the line at, he said that every dustman was given the right to discriminate ’ himself, but they all had to bar weeds. The work of a dustman is relugated ac- ! cording to a fixed number of streets to be done every day. Provided that he com- ! pletcd those streets during the day, he 1 can go home at mid-day—which of course ’ never happens. However, each day varied considerably and even the seasons varied. ' The various dustmen might not have been 1 entirely unanimous that their job was a ' very good one during the summer, but they 1 certainly agreed vehemently that it was pretty hard during winter in every respect. ' To begin with, they are exposed to all the vagaries of the weather, but that is only one disadvantage. In every way their work is made more arduous than in the ’ summer. There are double as many fires and a consequent increase in the amount of ashes. Then the ashes put out aro often wet and time is lost in scraping them out of the tins. Moreover when the tip is reached, the state of the ground makes it hard for the horse, and the carts are often nearly bogged. It is sometimes long after dark when the last load has been tipperl out. The carts hold slightly less than two tons of rubbish and usually about five loads, each of course, entailing a trip to the tip at the foot of Spey street near the oilstores, will deal with the quota of streets for the day. The two dustmen working the more distant suburbs usually have only about three loads because the time taken for the carts to travel from the district worked to the tip is much longer than in the more central streets. Their w’ork naturally does not lend itself to adventure or romance, but one of the most picturesque sights must have been visible some two or three years ago when, following a celebration, one dustman was returned to his home riding in (a) state inside his cart. Another story, which is vouched for as absolutely true, is that another dustman, also from Aberdeen, always kept his eyes open when tipping out his load and as a result of his vigilance was able to make a collection of household crockery that could be used'in any home. Another dustman was quite a philosopher, but it was only after a lot of coaxing that he would show that side of his character. “Do I philosophize as I go my rounds?” he said. “Well, if by philosophizing you mean, think out little things about life, I suppose I do. There’s one thing I’ve often thought although I suppose lots of other men have beaten me to it, and that is that housewives are just typical of everybody. They throw out carelessly all sorts of good things with the worthless stuff just as we all discard thoughtlessly some of the best things in our lives. And I’m just like everybody else —I don’t bother to sort it out, but just tip the whole lot away on the rubbish heap. That’s about the nearest I’ve got to philosophy yet. You might think mine is an uninteresting job, but you’d be surprised to know what a lot of incidents can interest a man, especially if he tries to interest himself in everything. I often think that the happiest man is the one who makes up his mind to like everything possible and be interested in everything, no matter how childish it may seem. I take an interest, for example, in nearly all of the houses on my rounds and it’s wonderful what a lot a man can find out from the rubbish cans. My horse often is ‘My dear Watson’ —because you can be sure I have read my Sherlock Holmes — and I expound to him my theories as to tfee habits of the inhabitants of the houses. The message to be learnt from salmon, tongue, fruit and other tins is obvious and even if I forgot the day, on Mondays I could know what day it was by the extra number of tins on the top. I can find out a lot of things from the rubbish tins. Then I have made friends with many little children, not yet of school age, whom I sometimes give a ride to on the step and I find out all about their happinesses and their worries. There’s always interest in that

"What made me choose the job? Oh, well, you know these days. It’s hard enough to get any job and there’s the wife and the kiddies. And now that I’ve been on it for three years I wouldn’t like to miss seeing all my old child and dog friends that I’ve got used to seeing. Somebody's got to do the job and like it, so why not do it? It mightn’t be a job that needs study or training, but since I took it on, I’ve always been interested in it, or perhaps I've made myself interested in it. But at any rate, I read a good bit of stuff when I get home at nights—just novels you know—but I like historical stuff like Rafael Sabatini’s or Stanley Weyinan’s, and I can tell you that if the people of to-day really knew what it was like to live in a city without someone to call and cart away the rubbish, they would not grudge any rates levied to pay me and my colleaguea. Why they just used to throw everything into’ the middle of the streets and trust to stray dogs and the wind to disperse m'ost of it, or a flood to wash the remainder into someone else’s cellar. It’s different to-day and some people grumble if you won’t take their weeds away, or if you find it impossible to lift great tanks. I hope that your article will give them an idea of our difficulties,” he concluded.