OUR LONDON LETTER

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 19772, 21 February 1927, Page 10

OUR LONDON LETTER

TOPICS CF THE TOWN

“JOCKS” LEAVE GERMANY

(From Our Own Correspondent—AU Rights Reserved.)

Advance Couriers. Jost as the rainbow’s pageant is| sent, as we know on Biblical authority,; to be a symbol that never again shalli mankind be overwhelmed by the deluge of waters, so some winter morn-; ings must, I fancy, be sent as hostages of spring to depressed humanity.; Life in London is apt to grow very: dreary about mid-winter. For weeks’ and weeks Cockneys awake to our monotonous Canopy of pewter skies, pmoke-laden damp roofs/ and greasy streets. And then suddenly,, when the thing becomes almost beyond; endurance, comes one lovely morning t of golden haze, tender blue sky, and; genial sunlight. These happy harbin-' gers of spring, and those dainty flowers that “take the winds of March with: beauty,” are rare as angels ’ visits, but; the lovelier for that. This week we; had one such morning—a real advance courier of Lady April. Londoners sensed the spring, and roused them from! their lethargic gloom. Crossing Che!-; sea Bridge, with the sun on the Thamesi and London’s vistas softened with’ golddust haze, visions of the’ boat race, and even cricket at Lords were von- ! chsafed•

LONDON, January 13. j The Easton Lodge Fiasco. Little surprise has been created by the inability of the Labour Parly to avail itself of Lady Warwick’s offer .1 of Easton Lodge for the purposes of '• an cducaliou&l college. The scheme, I though attractive at first sight, hai . 1 many drawbacks. Chief among them d is the fact that the mansion is oidfashioned and costly to maintain, and • would have required the expenditure ; of a large' sum to adapt it for the in- ’ tended purpose. Moreover, the place, ' though picturesque, is difficult of ac[i cess, and far removed from other edur, cational establishments. The recent ■ controversy as to the' future of Rus- . i kin College was another handicap. The J section of the Labour Party which supL ports that institution believes that a i good general education is the b°st • equipment for a propagandist, but an* • other school of thought holds that a J smattering of Marxian catchwords is J sufficient. The' latter group received a . i heavy blow in the autumn, when, the .! railwaymen decided to withdraw their L i support from the Central Labour ColJ lege, and it is not expected that the J S-uth Wales miners, who shared ’he financial burden of the institution, will be either able or willing to carry

it alone. Incidentally, the inability to take up the Easton Lodge offer should disabuse the Socialists of the idea that ownership of a country mansion is an asset rather than a liability.

Life in Wiesbaden. To-day I ran into an old army friend at Charing Cross, where all the world meets, with whom I shared exciting mouths in the salient. He is still in uniform, but, most unlike those strenuous Ypres days, spick and span, with a beautifully spotless kilt, snow-white spats, and an air of prosperous rationing. He told me that life at Wiesbaden did not lack entertainment for the British Army of Occupation, which is in reality just about a brigade strong, but emphatically very full of beans. The Wiesbadeners are even more genial than the Cologners, and not less attracted by the British Army as a social institution. Their patriotic yearning for the day when foreign troops will no more occupy the Fatherland is tempered by a reluctance to see the last of good-humoured Mr. Atkins. And, auriously enough, the Jocks, whom the Germans used to call “Women of Hell,” are now prime favourites. The kilted battalion’s church parade is Wiesbaden’s social chef d’oeuvre'. Fascination of the Kilt. Though he is an officer in a Scottish battalion, my friend happens to be English, but he declared that the Jock, even more than the ordinary English Tommy, has a natural flair for travel. Not only is he usually quicker at picking up “the lingo,” but he has a ready adaptability that enables him to fit in with foreigners, and his pawky humour covers a multitude of little indiscretions. At any rate, the Wiesbadeners arc simply fascinated by the Jocks, and not least of all the “hubsehe maidschen. ’’ Special regulations have had to be promulgated regarding the loss of brooches and buttons, owing to the bonhomie with which the Jocks were handing souvenirs to their German lady admirers. A curious fact about the Army of Occupation is that it has picked up a working knowledge of

German far less comic than the old B.E.F.’s famous “trench” French.

Battleship ‘ ‘ Scrapping.’ ’ The Thunderer, which came to grief off Blyth on her final voyage to a breaking-nip yard*at that port, is one of four battleships of the King George’ class to be scrapped under the Washington Agreement. As compensation for these losses, the British Navy obtained under that Treaty the mighty Nelson and Rodney. The four now due for scrapping on completion of the two new battleships mentioned are King George V., Ajax, Centurion, and whose life as fighting units was good for many more years.

Vesuvius Again. Neapolitans will read various omens for the New Year into the fact that Vesuvius, their ancient volcanic enemy but constant commercial showman, is oneo again belching flame and lava from his troubled crater. The Bay of Naples, one of the’ most bewitching scenes in the world when the Italian sunshine dances on its blue waters and perimeter of mountains dotted with chromatic towns, looks wonderful by night when Vesuvius is “at it.’ A deep purple' glow, like that cast by some German incendiary shells over the snow-covcred ruins of Ypres during the historic siege, suffuses the whole scene. The low rumble* of the volcano grows into an awful roar, and the earth shakes as though under a barrage of great guns. Yet the Neapolitans dwell merrily under this ever-present death’s head, and never seem to develop that nervy look so familiar on the faces of men in charge of ammunition dumps within the shell area on the Western front. And across the bay, serene and lovely as a heavenly jewel, Sorrento, where the knick-knacks come from, smiles like a pre-Raphaelite saint.

A Worthy Fate. One of the 17th century mansions on the Duke of Bedford’s Bloomsbury es-tate.-which stand in learned dignity round about the British Museum, is just being put up for sale, and one learns

with relief that there is every hope that it may be bought by no Americanised purveyor of novelties, but by a very learned and dignified society — the First Edition Chib, which claims to be the only book-collectors’ club in Great Britain. This house, 99 Great Russell Street, is one of the most beautiful of the older Bloomsbury mansions. It has historic associations, too, for Toph ano Beauelerk, one of the JohnsonBoswell set, lived there, and sometimes the doctor himself would drag his majestic presence out of Fleet Street to pay a ponderous call at Great Russell Street. It is even said that this house was onee upon a time the old manor house of Bloomsbury. And now it will be given over to the gossip of bookmen and first editions.

Too Sophisticated! There has been a tragedy down Teddington way. One of the Bushey Park deer, and the most tame and popular one at that, has been butchered to make a horticulturist’s holiday. The main occupation of one Bushey Park keeper is to see the herd does not escape by the big main gates. Sometimes they try for an hour, keeping the keeper dodging about like a recruit at physical jerks. But. one deer had developed a thoroughly sophisticated towny taste. This animal used regularly, despite the utmost vigilance, to get away into Teddington, to the joy of the juveniles and the terror of elderly spinsters, and browse on the nicest flower beds and shrubs. This became so great a source of complaint from owners of suburban gardens that at last the dread fiat went forth, and the deer-about-town has been killed. It shows to what tragic ends a taste above one’s station—and a pas sion for raw geraniums—may lead.

That Zoo Baby. The autocrat of all domestic manages is usually the baby, and it is emphatically so now at London’s Zoo. Everything gives way to the baby hippo. That queer little antic’s welfare and doings form the chief concern of staff and visitors. A baby hippo is about the one exception in Nature to the universal rule that babies are pretty things. The unfortunate physiognomy of a hippopotamus does not lend itself to real beauty even in infmey. The squat heavy limbs, huge mouth, and ugly snout never could come within the category “cherubic,” The keeper calls it affectionately “a homely” little thing. At present it is cutting some molars, about the size of a human baby’s feet, and keeping close to the hot-water pipes for comfort and consolation. Mamma is fond enough to surrender this coveted spot—and greater love than this in winter time hath no maternal hippo! English—O.H.M.S. The Treasury, in trying to arrive at a correct estimate of revenue for Budget purposes, has this year adopted quite a new avenue of enquiry. Some

fifty thousand copies of a circular letter companies and firms in the country, have been sent out to the principal asking them to give as accurate an estimate as possible of the year’s trading, in order that the Treasury may gauge how serious was the damage done by the coal stoppage. It is made quite clear that this information is wanted I only as a guide to the Treasury, and j presumably, if the answers are sufficiently optimistic, there may be less new taxation. But what has amused the taxation. But what has amused the more precisely-minded of those who have received the letter is the assurance at the end. This states that the information will be treated with the same “confidentiality” as incometax returns. Apparently the .Treasury has not only thought out a new method of estimating revenue, but has coined a word to give the method added rpestige. Is It Cash, Brother? A Canadian firm has just sold 40,000 reaping and binding machines to the Soviet Government, and a representative of the firm tells me that this business, as other business of a similar kind, has been put through on a strictly cash basis. He tells me that Moscow is now full of American, Canadian, and British representatives, who are negotiating with the central Soviet authority, and that they all meet on common ground in the hotels*. There is one question that they invariably ask each other in hushed whispers, and that is: “Are you getting cash?” In every ease the answer is: “Yes.” Apparently the Russians are buying machinery freely, and have the means with which to pay. London-Glasgow Non-Stop. The L.M. and S. seems determined to end the triumph enjoyed by the Great Western, which has held the world’s record for a continuous non-stop run, day in and day out, for years past from Paddington to North Road, Plymouth. Their intention to run an express from Euston to Glasgow will revive the glorious traditions of the old NorthWestern, which for a long time ran such wonderful expresses to both IGasgow and Holyhead. During the famous “races” to the North, London to Carlisle, a fraction under 300 miles, was often done at very high speed, and, since the amalgamation, a similar journey has been attempted at intervals to prove the feasibility of a regular service. The additional non-stop run, however, from Carlisle to Glasgow would indeed constitute a worthy record of British railway genius and performance. I am told that the newest highpowered engines of the L.M. and S. are worthy rivals of the Great Western’s world-famous “forty” class, though it can be reasonably doubted whether, in such a long run as London to Gasgow ■ without stopping, the L.M. and S. could : take such a heavy train as the Great Western does daily to Plymouth. The j long pull up at Shep Fell, south of

Carlisle, and the long bank north of Lockerbie on the old Caledonian system, are steiff propositions for any train Royal Stable Brooms.

The 192 G list of tradesmen who have the honour to hold warrants of appointment to the King and Queen and the Prince of Wales is just out. It makes interesting reading. What could be more exciting than to be the sole maker of the Royal stable brooms? The phrase sounds like an extract from the tales of the Brothers Grimm. The appointment is held by a broom manufacturer in Croydon. The King has appointed a purveyor of Lamprey-pies, of Edinburgh rock, and of wine corks, among other interesting merchants. The Queen has her special purveyor of hooks and eyes. One would very much like to know who in the Royal Household has that passion for Edinburgh rock.

Guard’s Jazz Band. When the valse and the dancers ruled the dancing floor, it was common enough for military bands to do duty at the more important balls. Uniforms and moustaches for the band were held to be essential to the atmosphere of romance that ruled the ballroom in those days. Evon though they were only chocolate cream, they were still soldiers—and they had excellent moustaches. But when the lancers and moustaches went out cf fashion, and jazz came in, military dance bands went out too. But now. I hear, they are coming back The Welsh Guards have formed <1 dance jazz band which is practising lustily, and will make its appearance at an important ball to be held in a London hotel early next month. Is this a sign of the times?

London Treasure Trove The find of about £4O in gold in Bermondsey is a small affair compared with that which was made some years ago in the city, when what was evidently a large part of the stock-in-trade of an Elizazbethan jeweller was dug up in the course of making the foundations for a new building. lam not sure that the exact site of the find was ever disclosed for it was made at the time when the late Lord Harcourt was First Commissioner of Works and keenly interested in the London Museum which had recently been established. He recognised at odcc that there was only one place appropriate for the display of the jewels. Nothing was said; all awkward formalities were avoided, and the first the public knew of the find was when the beautiful craftsmanshin was displayed in Stafford House, making the Victorian and Georgian stuff alongside look heavy, vulgar and commonplace in the last degree. It is surmised that the owner had buried the jewels for the sake of safety during some tifoublous time, and that he died 1 without disclosing the hiding-place.

HINTS ON HEALTH By a Qualified Chemist. FADS AND FADDISTS. “To a qualified chemist who h?rt served behind the counter for 20. years or more, it is most amusing—sometimes pathetic—to watch how fads come and go. “I remember when the Bulgarian Bug was all the rage. People thought they discovered the elixir of life. It soon died out. Then we had the pari' fin (fraze. By swallowing nasty mineral oil people imagined they would banish all ills. “I could give numerous instances of these fads, but I am glad to say that they are dying out. People are realising that good health depends largely on the stomach, and that, by taking Anti-Acido, they can build up health and strength with nourishing, wholesome food. Anti-Acido has done morr to promote better health than any preparation I know of, and I always recommend it to my customers.”—Adri.