DAYS OF YORE

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 77, Issue 150, 27 June 1934, Page 6

DAYS OF YORE

A UNIQUE GATHERING FOUR OF THE “OLD BRIGADE.” TALK OVER THE TEACUPS. That romantic world of sailing ships and gold diggings, of a West Coast of many hotels, of strong, self-reliant men and women—a whisper of it came back to a unique gathering in the Elrick Lounge yesterday, when four of the oldest residents of Wanganui were rhe guests of Mr. and Mrs. J. Siddells to afternoon tea. The average age was SBJ years, and there was much banter, an occasional sigh, when memories were over sweet, but a refreshing consolidation of thought on lives well lived and memories tuned to recall to the shades of evening all that was brightest and best from youth. There was Mr. Ewen Campbell. 91 on May 21 last, hearty r.s ever, bluff and good natured. lamenting that his motorcar had not been as punctual as the occasion demanded. It worried him to think he was two minutes late. Mr. Alfred Mills, 91 on January 21, 1934, was there, witty and full of reminiscences of life when he was a boy on the wild West Coast. “I don’t believe I am four months older than you,” he said to Air. Campbell, “but I’ll hide the top of my head white 1 say it.” Mr. Frederick Suisted, 87 on May 26 last, white of hair, courteous and pleasing to be among old friends. He, too. was there, and enjoyed the tales of long

ago. Captain Connor, who will be 85 nvxt Monday, was the fourth member of the gathering, proud of old Dublin town and the days when he was afloat round the rugged shores of his adopted land. The Mayor of Wanganui (Mr. N. G. Armstrong), Air. A. T. Cavell, an expost master of Havelock (only a. •‘boy’’), and Airs. Mills, with the host and hostess, completed the gathering, which had a further significance in that it was a uniting of old anil new' Nelson with old and new Wanganui. Air. Campbell and Air. Armstrong were born at. Wanganui and Air. Mills and AirSiddells were, boru at Nelson. “Those were the good old days,” said Air. Suisted conversationally, when the four older members of the party sat down in a corner. Air. Alills: All days are good; they are what you make them. Captain Connor: You are about right. . . . And the conversation trailed off as to the merits of a Bill Smith, who married a Brown, who was his second wife, and what a fine pair they were. The four older members, together with the Alayor and Deputy-Alayor of : Wanganui, had their photographs taken and afternoon tea was enjoyed later. Air. Siddells spoke of the great plea- 1 sure it had given Airs. Siddells and himself to welcome their guests. ]t was a unique gathering of men whose ages 1 averaged out ac 88i years. Two of l those present had been with him four and a-half years ago at his own 70th 1 birthday, and he was sorry another who had been present on that occasion. ] Air. Adams, had been unable to attend • yesterday. “We of the younger generation always like to hear reminiscences of the old days,” said Air. Siddells, . “and I do not think there are any more qualified to talk of the past than the four who are here. Air. Campbell was 1 in Wanganui from the very early days. fl Air. Alills has been all over New Zea- ( land and has chased the gold diggings j trying to make money quickly. 1 hope , that next year you will all be able to meet again.” g Air. Campbell: We “boys” certainly j

will. The Alayor also welcomed the old members of the gathering, and said how pleased he was to be present. He recalled many of Wanganui’s early settlers and the strength of purpose they displayed. He paid a tribute to the example set by Air. and Mrs. Siddells in taking a share in public lifeMr. Siddells was Deputy-Alayor and Airs. Siddells was on tho Hospital Board. “After all, when we ask, in a practical way, why we are in this world, I always think that it is to do I things for other people.” said Mr. Armstrong. “I. can assure the guests of [ to-day that the city is proud of them. They have all done things.” The tea over, chairs were pushed back, pipes were lit, and the world of the past, came back again to mingle with the present. “I don’t think you ever gave me a hiding, but your brother Charlie licked me once. . . That was the note the conversation started on. It ran on to tell of rowers of the early days who pulled provisions over 30 miles, from Ketu Point to Havelock, of ships that made a forest of masts at Hokitika, of the Alangatapa murders, of the days when an 80ton ship sailed from Wanganui to Melbourne and thought nothing of it, . of gaolers and the task they had with hardened criminals, of simple, everyday life, of big things and little things. “Do you remember Hokitika when you couldn’t see water for ships? asked a questioner. “Ah,” replied Captain Connor, his eyes lighting up- “There was a forest of masts and a forest on shore. It tried the patience of masters in those old ■ days. There was no steamer to tug you up. It was a case of getting there under canvas or not getting there at. all. I was all round New Zealand, always afloat, but never ashore.” Mr. Suisted: At every corner there were drinking shops in Hokitika in 1 those days. You could drink all night and when the crowd was going in you couldn’t come out. IVhen they were coming out you couldn’t get in. Air. Alills: I can remember things when I was a boy far better than those of a few years ago. (And he recounted experiences his father had , had in taking a knife off a prisoner ' and removing an iron bar from another). “They won’t believe it now,” ob- : served Captain Connor. Air. Alills: AVell it is better for themselves that they should do that rather than go and look for proof. “We travelled to Afelbourne in an 80-ton boat.” Air- Campbell stated. “We were all very comfortable and nobody had anv doubts about her getting there. It was all sailing vessels in those days. I often wonder, when you look back on a lifetime, whether the world will go forward as much as it has done these last 80 years. When I was a boy there was no telegraph and no motor-cars.” Air. Alills: I always think a man should look forward. Air. Campbell: So do T. but it is a moot question as to whether the world will go on as it has. Think what has taken place in a lifetime. Will it he the same in the next eighty rears? The conveniences, the facilities for everything. The life we came up in, the

motor-car, the telegraph, the wireless. It looks to me as though it can't go on at the same rate. Just think of a cricket match at Lord’s, and every stroke of the game put before you while you sit by the fire. Not only that, Big Ben striking in London or “Big Tom” somewhere else- You can hear it dis* tincriy. I don’t think the race will deteriorate, but the improvements must slacken. . . . And so the conversation drifted on, till it was time for the gathering to disperse. Telephones were dialled, the electric lift was called, cars were waiting at the door, an elec 4 trically-driven town clock chimed the quarter hour. That forest of the gold diggings, the many hotels —they all seemed far away, but four hearts were the happier for having recalled them in an atmosphere of goodfellowship. ‘ ‘ See you again next year’. ” they said to each other at parting, and they meant it