A GUIDE TO THE CITY OF AUCKLAND

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 7, 16 February 1907, Page 21

A GUIDE TO THE CITY OF AUCKLAND

WRITTEN IN A JOCULAR VEIN BY HARRIE GREY

Banish all dreams of other scenes In toto,— When ns you steam round stately RANGITOTO— AUCKLAND!—fair vision greets the wondering eye. AUCKLAND!—that ever flows with milk ami honey— Bounteous in everything save—"ready money.” Oh, healthy elime whose only urgent want is,— A cure for Harbour Board “WHITE ELEPHANTIS.” There where the trams are still a' burning question;— Through "stuffing" much have chronic indigestion. And burly men, on rainy days you’ll find ’em, A whistling of "the girls they left behind ’em.” Home of the freeman! -and “hot bed” of the prude — Of fellows in the ’•KNOW”—and PHYSCES—in the "KNEWD.” Where police and beak artistic matters settle, And let off steam as from a “copper” “KETTLE”! . , Here let us pause ami view with studied care, The varied beauties of a town so fair! IT is no part of the purposes of this little guide to enter into any lengthy details, or obstruse theories, as to when civilisation, in the person of a Murphy, or a McGregor, or a pale face from Whitechapel, first set foot on the verdant snores of the Waitemata. on the verdant shore of the Waitemata. It is enough to say that the original natives were of the wildest type —cannibals in fact. They devoured each other without compunction. They had their great chiefs who ale every turbulent enemy or rebellious follower with avidity. They believed in putting down opposition with an “iron jaw,” and, as a man is talked of now a’ days as having “passed out,” so in those primitive times he was reckoned to have “passed in”--a not inconvenient arrangement for those who were walking about at that time to save funeral expenses. Isolated trading was carried on in the early days at great risk. It is related that a pioneer trader had quite an extensive connection in the ‘‘land—blanket exchange business,” and, finding it still increasing, he formed himself into a company, and the natives took shares; but it didn’t pay’, somehow, and the company went into liquidation in a “copper Maori,” and the proceeds were duly' divided among the shareholders. We can imagine nothing more charming than the entrance to Auckland Harbour, say for the traveller, who, arriving from Sydney on a Sunday morning, finds himself steaming up the placid waters of the Waitemata! The undulating slopes, “the ups and downs,” as it were, the distant houses nestling ’neath the foliage. Where could you behold such a vision of beauty? To the left Parnell—clot her in its best, save for a “coat” of paint; ahead, the lovely suburb of Ponsonby, where the beautiful villas slope to the water’s edge, seemingly’ toppling over each other, in their anxiety to take a “header” and indulge in a kind of “mixed bathing” without any’ preliminary introduction. To the right, we steam past Mt. Victoria and the fort, where they’ve got “big guns that go off and can't be located”—by the bye, they’ are not the only “big guns” that “go off” and can't be located—and then we pass the marine suburb of Devonpoit. There is a legend attached to this beautiful spot. Many’ years ago a certain chief—let us call him Ali for short—obtained a great ascendency over the Shoreites. He was a great sea charmer. He would take the unsophisticated over to the mainland—it was a wearying journey in those days—not like now, oh! dear no. Ho would take them over in a large boat, and fetch them all back in a “cockle shell”, and nobody knew how he did it; but he did it, and proved he elid it, with

the help of a genial smile. So they thought he could do anything on waler. “He can’t stop the flowing tide,” said a neighbouring “King,” who, by’ the bye, didn't believe in taxes, which is rather unusual for Royalty. So King and others formed themselves into a deputation, and waited on Ali, and stated the case to him. “Can’t stop the flowing tide, can’t I?” said Ali. “You ‘Canute,’" replied the ‘King’; for he hadn't forgotten his English history in spite of “Henry George. ’ Ali said nothing, but he retired to his office, and, having consulted an almanac, invited the deputation to Cheltenham Beach, whither they went. Ali promptly’ seated himself, and they all gathered round. “Must give way to a ‘flowing tide’, must I?” said Ali. “Yes,” they cried defiantly. Ali paused lor a few moments; then, taking his watch from his pocket, and finding that the tide was on the turn, he promptly ordered the waters to retire, and they retired, and he told the deputation to “go to pot,” and they’ had to go to pot, as most dep stations have to do. especially' marine suburban ones. As we steam up towards the wharf, we catch a glimpse of Birkenhead and Northcote, the latter especially interesting, as being the abode of the “dreaded Northcote worm.” See, if you look hard you can see him just over the cliff, his eyes standing out of his head, glaring at the “Takapuna.” Do y«m notice his sting?—as big as a stingaiec’s, isn’t it? Mark me. that's a worm ti. it will turn, and when he does—but more of him anon. Here we are alongside, and it is Sunday morning. Hark! IL w the bells are chiming. They ought to execute some good rings on those bells, for they' were “hung” in Parnell, “drawn” to St. Matthew’s, and “quartered” I here. LEGEND OF THE BELLS. Deep was the gloom in the old belfry tower— Ali, “miserie,” sighed the wild wind! And the old PARNELL chimes- like PARNELL these times— Were hundreds of years behind! And there they all hung, and they never were rung - The tenor bell went off his chump — And some got quite cracked, through they’re not being whacked, And they “all” of them had the hump! Quoth the bell wjio rung bass a scowl on his face—- “ ’Tis as deadly as it can be; Why I’m all ovZ dust and cobwebs and rust — Oh, ‘hammer’ the life out of me.” The woodwork all creaked, and the wind outside shrieked, And one of the bells did a sneeze; Through not. being tolled, he had caught a bad cold. Which really was not quite the "cheese.” Squeaked a bell with the croup, "We’re all in the soup, As wretched as they can make it; Let’s fall from the top, and come down with a flop— And watch how the PARNELLITES take it!” But the hell shook his head, and gloomily said. He "doubted if that would shake ’em; I do not suppose, if we dropped on their toes. We’d any one of us wake* ’em.” "If 1 he chimes they don’t like, let’s go out on strike.” With a grunt, growled the old bass bell; “If we can’t go ’ding-dong.’ we’ll just say ‘so-long’— I’m perfectly ‘sick’ of Parnell!” “There’s belfries in town,” snarled a bell, with a frown; In fact, he said that he knew ’em: Where they’d ring ’em all day, and actually pay Sixpence apiece Just to view ’em! So the chimes did a get. of course, you may bet, They made for the tower of St. Mntt.’s; And they rung such a peal, made every one feed. Whatever (hey were, they weren’t "flats”? And there, wreathed In smiles, you ran bear them for miles, Their “dlng-a-dong! ding-a-dong-drll!” And the bass every hour, looks forth from the tower. And turns up bls "nose” ut PARNELL!

Sunday i< not a very lively day ig Auckland. The licensing laws air wry sliivt. and many of the loafers who are hungry all the week are very thirsty on the Sabbath; but the parks are very pretty, and well worth a visit, ami thie is the Iwod day to see them. Besides there are the people going to rhitreh. The majority of Aucklanders are great churchgoers. anti a good many of them are to It seen carrying the largest of Bibles under their arms, and the most "holey'' of threepenny bits in their pockets; the former to show them the wav they must go in. in the largest possible type, ami the latter to get there in the vhca|M*st possible way — a business method all the worhi overl ITo he continued.)