LETTER FROM BRITAIN

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 77, Issue 6566, 15 September 1948, Page 4

LETTER FROM BRITAIN

THE FASCINATING FACADE OF LONDON INTERESTING SCENES DEPICTED (By Edward Hodgkin, Exclusive to the Courier) Lord Northcliffe once said that in a single bus journey through London’s streets any newspaper reporter ought to [be certain of finding at | least half-a-dozen news stories. Peri haps this is what Dr Samuel Johnston, the 18th century lexicographer, meant when he said that “he who is tired of London is tired of life.” At any rate the city is so full of what is new as well as of what is old, that even its most familiar thoroughfares never become dull. Where shall we begin our journey to-day ? There could be nowhere better than St. Paul’s Cathedral, still th,e best-loved and most beautlifuili building in London. But I, for one, never go to St. Paul’s without walking through the bombed acres lying to the north and east of it. This area is still flattened, for rebuilding depends on the general reconstruction plan for London. Until this happens we can be thankful for the opeh space which is provided for us in the heart of the crowded City, where flowers of valerian and ragwort bloom among the foundations of the ruined buildings. It is like being in Pompeii to walk here, along streets which still have names but no houses, and past street corners where notice boards inform you that “pubs” or business-houses used to stand. If we continue to walk into the parts of the City which are undamaged, down Lombard Street of the bankers or Throgmorton Street of Che Stock Exchange, there i& the same activity as there was before | World War 11, but less formality. Until the war there used to be a uniform for City workers—dark suit, b/ack black hfa't —almost as rigid as in the old days when the humblest clerk would no more have dreamed of appearing without a tophat than without his trousers. But war-time conditions relaxed this discipline. There are many more bare heads than hats in the city, both among men and women, and more sports coats than double-breasted jackets. Mention of top-hats reminds me that they have now vanished from their last stronghold in Britain, or last but one, since they are still to be seen on the heads of bank messengers. Eton boys no longer have to wear them, because the shortage of silk has made their production impossible. In mourning their passing I would pay them the tribute of saying that they were not at all uncomfortable and that when not in use and turned upside-down such hats made excellent receptacles for all sorts of objects. , Dustman’s Hat When, journeying westward, we leave the City of London and come into the domain of the City of Westminster (the part of London which includes most of the West End and Whitehall) we are confronted with another disappearing hat. This is the ! slouch hat, turned up at one side, on a pattern associated with Australian troops which, for some mysterious reason, the dustmen employed by the : Westminster City Council hitherto : have worn. The main complaint about ; such halts was not that they were 1 inconvenient or ugly, but that high- i spirited young men or enterprising visitors used to try to steal them from < the unsuspecting dustmen as souven- <

In the heart of Westminster, at Britain’s Houses of Parliament, you can always find a long queue waiting for a chance, when Parliament is in session, to get in to listen to the debates. There is much more interest in the day-to-day work of both the House of Lords and the House of Commons than there used to be, and almost everyone who comes to London for a visit tries to see a debate before he goes home. Another symptom of this interest of Britain’s electors in the work of their representatives is the success of the Hansard Society. “Hansard” is the name by which the printed reports of Parliament are known—called after the original printer of the debates in the 18th century. Ten or 15 years ago these reports hardly circulated outside libraries and newspaper

offices, but just before World War II a member of Parliament organised a society which arranged to distribute them more widely, and to-day (they are received by many individuals up and down Britain and are to be found on sale at the bookstalls. Moving north 'from Westminster we come to the great shopping district—Piccadilly, Regent Street, Oxford Street and Bond Street. The most welcome sight in the shop windows here are the notices saying, “All Shoes Now Coupon Free”— which means- that shoes, like a good many other articles of clothing such as mackintoshes and ties, have recently been tajeen off the ration in Britain. Contrary to some forecasts, the end of shoe rationing did not mean that buyers descended on the shops like locusts and stripped them bare. On the other hand, it seems as though .supply can -now .meet the demand on the home market, and Heep ,'up vts export target figures easily. Rationing will probably end for ail clothes within a not too distant future; ill is really only the additional tasks which have been placed on the textile industry to increase Exports which delay Khis' much-desired relief. London’s “Play-Streets” If you stray off the main streets, in this or in any part of London, you may find yourself in a road where there are no cars and where children seem to be playing without interruption or fear of being run over. The explanation for this state of affairs is to be found in the notices which you will find affixed to the lamp-posts. This street, you are informed, is a “play-street,” which means that no vehicle can use it unless they belong to people who live in the street. The children are the real owners, and their games of hop-scotch or cricket may not be disturbed. Such a street, even under these conditions, is admittedly not a perfect place to play in, but it acts as a useful supplement until Britain can get all the parks and playgrounds .she needs. But even when she has them, children will continue to find streets fascinating places in which to play. Just as we adults, like Northcliffe and Dr Johnston, find them fascinating places for our strolls.