SPECTACLE LOST

Taranaki Daily News, 5 January 1935, Page 18 (Supplement)

SPECTACLE LOST

LONDON’S WONDERFUL DOCKS. MUCH NEEDED ROADING WORK.

There is a part of London which is almost unknown to those who do not live in its neighbourhood. It is dockland, one of the chief sources of the wealth of the capital city of the Empire, a place almost inaccessible to most people. It should be a great spectacle, drawing overseas visitors as by a magnet; but at present this is impossible, for, except by way of the Thames, which is only available for ordinary visitors on summer days, access is difficult at these thrilling spots where argosies from all over the world come and go. The truth is that the wonderful docks are a splendour thrown away as far as being a spectacle goes, for it is nothing but misery to have to go to them. The only docks to which it is a pleasure to go are the docks at Tilbury, which, though approached by a fine broad road, are too far away from London, and the Victoria and Albert and George the Fifth Docks, to which a new viaduct has just been opened. The London Docks at Wapping, the West India Docks in the Isle of Dogs, and Surrey Commercial Docks on the south side of the Thames, are hedged in by narrow, crooked streets, with little bridges across the waterways and a general atmosphere which is most depressing.

It is something of an anomaly that the Port of London Authority has spent some £16,000,000 on improving its docks during the last 25 years, while, with the exception of the new viaduct, which cost £3,000,000, little lias been done to improve the roads that serve them.

It is an excellent thing, therefore, that the five authorities for these roads have joined with the Port Authority and the Ministry of Transport in promoting a scheme which will cost £1,500,000. A new road with viaducts over four levelcrossings and a swing bridge is to be built to docks at Silvertown. A bridge costing over £lOO,OOO is to be constructed over the entrance to Millwall Dock in the Isle of Dogs, and three bridges are to be rebuilt in the Surrey Docks at Rotherhithe.

Nearer the City there is .to be much widening of roads, and Wapping will cease to be congested.

THE HIKING ADVENTURE. (By Moira Hoben). It was eight o’clock in the morning. A gentle breeze was blowing from the sea, and the sun was shining brightly in the sky. At this time, four girls were walking merrily along a certain country road which was flanked on either side with banks where wild pink roses rambled in rich profusion amongst the lacy ferns which peeped out from their mossy beds. They were out on a hiking expedition to a rambling old house which was rumoured to be haunted. It had been Rhona’s idea. There was nothing unusual in that, because Rhona Parry was always full of original schemes. “Say! let’s hurry up. We’ll want to play a lot of games when we get there so’s we can have plenty of time to explore the old house after dinner,” said Geraldine, Rhona’s sister. At once the girls “made a run for it” and in no less than a quarter of an hour they had reached the house.

The lawn, now a vast wilderness of weeds, sloped up towards the house, from an old brick wall, and met an oldworld garden where hollyhocks, roses and little blue forget-me-nots still flourished. Tall, windowless, and unoccupied was the house which confronted the four girls. Ivy wandered unchecked up the chimney, and over the rusty, battered roof. .

“What about a game, girls?” said Rhona at last Of course everyone said “Yes.” Muriel Payne, a friend of Geraldine’s, suggested hide-and-seek, and as this was agreed to with a chorus of “Yes,” they began to play. A good deal of laughter was caused in this game, especially when Rhona donned Maureen Loyd’s hat so. that Geraldine mistook her for Maureen. This continued for some time, until at last they were ready for lunch. Old Martha, who was employed at the Parry homestead as cook, evidently knew a thing or two about cooking and girls’ appetites. At length the meal was finished, and having cleared away all remnants of it, the girls entered the house which had for years been uninhabited because of the rumour of its being haunted. As they entered the long hall, thick with the dust of the years, they noticed the quaint panelling and exquisite carving of the ancient days. There was a room on each side of the hall, each one being cobwebby, dark and musty. One of these appeared to be a dining-room, where Muriel, a girl who was imaginative, and revelled in history, said dreamily that she could almost see the gallant knights in their gorgeous clothes, and the little maidens enjoying the revelry of bygone days. She could hear the shuffle of dancing feet; the buzz of happy conversation, and the peals of merry laughter!

At the end of the hall one encountered a huge kitchen with a large open fireplace in it. Hanging from the ceiling were strong iron hooks, where in all probability hams and Christmas puddings had hung, long, long ago. In the comer of the kitchen was a rickety staircase. The girls went up the stairs with difficulty and when they reached the top they saw before them a long, low, dark room. Rhona then began to tell them a story about it. “Ages and ages ago,” she began, “an artist by the name of Robert Blackford lived in this house, and this is the room, where he painted his pictures. He was considered to be slightly eccentric by the people of the neighbourhood, but despite this he was strongly devoted to his only servant, Eric Lovedale, who died of pneumonia. The artist was deeply grieved, and shortly afterwards it became known that he had disappeared—no one knew where. The furniture was sold, but people would not buy the house because Jem Wiggins, a fisher lad, declared that when he was birdsnesting in the grounds he had seen something which was believed to be Eric Lovedale’s ghost That may or may not 'be true—but still,” she concluded, “You never know.” This, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. The girls shuddered, and decided to have tea. Rhona, however, said that she had left something in the bedroom at the front of the house. With this excuse she left her companions to prepare tea. Running into the room she picked up the handkerchief which she had left on the window-sill. Nevertheless, that was not all. Oh, no! With a dive Rhona hauled a large suit of armour from a heavy iron chest which her mates had not noticed before. She slipped it over her light summer dress and accompanied by a series of mournful wails and dramatic gestures she glided, ghostlike, towards the group of girls who sat on the lawn before her. A terrified scream came from Geraldine. When “the ghost” turned round, however. and displayed two long, thick plaits which would persist in tumbling down from beneath the helmet, the girls all went off into peals of hearty laughter. “Oh! you did give me a scare,” said Geraldine, as they returned home, “But I might have known it was you,” she added.