OLD SETTLERS' HOUR

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 149, 26 June 1931, Page 6

OLD SETTLERS' HOUR

LASTING IMPRESSIONS BLACK SWANS THAT CAME 3ACIJ DAYS OF THE BULLOCK DRAYS “J would fain go back to tho groy old river, To the old bush days when our hearts were light, But. alas! those days have fled for They are like the swans that ha\o swept from sight . . . A. B. Patterson. “Banjo’’ Patterson’s “Black •Swans were birds tuat flew towards ibe sinking sun. The writer visioned them as never coming back. Yet, in reality, the swans do return and as they fly on the inward journey they give voice on a key of happiness. Yestcrduy s old settlers’ re union, inaugurated by the Welcome Week executive. leaded days that many people thought were buried, but whicn li\o so strong y m memory that, they will never die. Jt needed a tune, the words ot a song, peruaps, to stir the right chord and ail the present fell away. Imagination saw again the rough busu tracKs, the grey old river, the solid woodwork of the stockades, and in a tumbling flood of memory old people wondered whether the world of tu-iluy was really what the energy of the pust hud been set to make. Capably organised into groups tho old residents were gathered at Eos* ter’s Hotel, ISpriggciis' Hotel, and in the National Mutual Buildings. From there they were motored to the Racecourse try members of tho Wanganui Automobile Association and entertained to afternoon tea by thu Mayoress (Mrs N. G. Armstrong) and tho wives of city councillors. tK-hool bugio bands played them in from the roadway and in the procession they were headed by the band comprised of unemployed musicians. It was appropriate that an Oldsmobile, 19U2 model, should take its place in the lead—au old car, heading a band of old residents nearly 150 strong. Miss Jan© Winstone, as “Miss Wanganui,’> used this model of a past ago to pilot her to the reception It was refreshing to hear the old people recall the past. Mrs Peter Bell, aged 95, was the oldest present and Mr William Ritchie (89) was tho oldest gentleman. When he addressed the assembly after presentations hud been made to Mrs Bell and himself, ho recalled tho crack of tho bullockdriver’s whip and the times when transport was slower, surer and safei than it is now and when roads were scorned. “1 haven’t the eloquence of tho bul-lock-drivers,” ho said by way of apology for a short speech. “If you had them to-day their eloquence would bo so hot it would melt tho bitumen roads away.’’ Ono could picture in the assertion, the scorn of the oldcn-day resident for the fast, motor highways of the present. They had no use for bitumen in the good old coaching days when “Bill” Ritchie, ‘‘Gcordie” Mitchell, and J. I’. Belcher were boys. The pound of the horses’ feet was a happier note to them than the latest six. or eight-cylinder ticking over smoothly in a semi-silent purr. When Mr Ritchie sat down, the orchestra struck up old refrains. It was too mu'ch for some of the lively “sparks” of eig.ity years to stand. Their feet just wouldn’t keep still and, in the end, the members of the younger generation present were treated to an old man stepping brightly to the music of a quadrille while his mates, all well over seventy, sang in lusty voice. Then “Gerrio” Coakley got at the piano. His fingers did not wander idly over the keys for nothing. He brought out the old, old songs and as each old resident was presented with a “Good Citizen” badge and sprig o’ bounie heather for luck by Mrs Armstrong. Mr Coakley fittingly accorded them musical honours, and a little spicy introduction. “Came here the day the Sixty-flfth Regiment landed,” he asserted about one old gentleman. “Lived hero through tho big earthquake which lasted for six weeks,” he said about another. Tho spirit of banter and good-fellow-ship was paramount. It must have seemed to those responsible for organising the function that their work ha<l been well worth while. All those people were young again yesterday. The Black Swans were returning on the wings of happiness. Two old gentlemen left the building challenging each other to run a hundred yards and in the next breath compared ages and found that they were over eighty. The music and the songs, the remin’uveneos had brought back youth. And so, in happy mood, the gathering dispersed until the function in the evening: “Should anil acquaintance be forgot ami never brought to mind: Then here’s a hand my trusty friend and gi’os a hand o’ thine. We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet. for days o’ Auld Lang Syne.”