Contents
The Audit Office, Wellington, N.Z., 8th April, 1929.
I hereby certify that, after investigation of the publisher's lists and other records, the average circulation of the New Zealand Railways Magazine for the 12 months ended May, 1928, is in excess of 20,000 copies per month during the whole of that period and that, during the months of February and March, 1929, the circulation has increased to over 22,500 copies.
Controller and Auditor General.
The New Zealand
Railways
Magazine
Railways
Magazine
Published by the
New Zealand Government Railways Department
“For Better Service”
Circulation Over 23,500
Vol. 4. No. 7.
Wellington,
New Zealand
November1, 1929
Aptitudes
The conscious development of aptitudes is one of the features of modern education. It is also, without being so particularly expressed, the main feature in modern business. The same notion has of course been understood and practised by individuals from time immemorial. In the fields of fashion there are many extremely interesting historical records of fashions being adopted either to hide or display the physical idiosyncrasies of individuals. Byron, it will be remembered, suffered from foot deformity, and it is thought that this, preying on his mind, tended to embitter his outlook on life. As a relief he sought excellence in swimming, where the disability ceased to be of much moment.
The ancient wisdom contained in the proverb “In the country of the blind, the oneeyed man is king” has come to have special significance in regard to business relations at the present day. All progressive business consists in a ceaseless search for points of advantage that may help the individual business as compared with others—ceaseless because the factors that make up the conditions under which commercial competition progresses are constantly changing in number, scale, and relative significance.
So it has come about that the railways of to-day are engaged in a campaign of sorting, readjusting and reassembling to develop those features of their service in which they are able to supply the public with exceptional, and, if possible, exclusive transport facilities—exclusive, that is, in the sense that their equivalent cannot be supplied by any other means of transport.
The point has recently been made by British and American journals that the very congestion created on the roads through the increased number of privately-owned motor cars may be turned to the comparative advantage of the Railways, and pointed attention has been drawn to the action of the Insull Lines, a system which serves the country outside Chicago. Here the advertisements stress the fact that greater speed and greater safety are available to the citizens of Chicago visiting the nearby holiday resorts by comfortable electric trains rather than by motoring on the congested main roads. An intensive campaign has resulted in owners leaving their cars at home and going by rail.
Similar action has been taken elsewhere, by steam operated lines, and here in New Zealand already on certain race-days there is a developing tendency to revert to the railway for the same reason. New Zealand railway endeavours to develop along specialised lines in transport efficiency have found expression in two types of transport not previously tried out, and in both cases marked success has been achieved. These types are the farmers’ trains and the commerce
There are many other points of advantage which the railways can offer, but the above are mentioned as an indication of the general tendency of the times in the direction of developing the aptitudes of business as well as the aptitudes of individuals in the course of the world's steady advance towards a higher civilisation.
Relieving Peak Traffic Congestion
Mr. R. S. Kent, Divisional Superintendent for the South Island, spoke at the last conference of executive officers in Wellington on the above subject, in the course of a five minutes address. He pointed out that during the peak period of goods traffic in the South Island, from about February to May, there was an increase of about 30 per cent. in the average goods tonnage to be handled as compared with the other months of the year. Amongst practical suggestions for relieving the congestion during the peak period he mentioned the advisability of limiting the use of engine power as far as possible for the work of the Railway and other Government Departments. Mr. Kent thought the Stores Department might help by arranging for supplies of coal, sleepers, rails and fastenings, etc., to be built up at depots during the slack months; that the Maintenance Branch could perhaps arrange for relaying and other non-urgent work to be eased off during the busy season; that the Signals Branch might lay out their work so that big works were carried out during the winter months; that the Chief Mechanical Engineer's Branch might keep their car and wagon repairs down to a minimum during the busy season, so that maximum rolling stock might be available for the peak period; and that other branches using portable huts should have these removed from wagons when the latter were urgently needed for other traffic.
Referring to other Government Departments, Mr. Kent said that the State Coal Mines might be approached to stock up during the railway slack period, and that similar action might with advantage be taken with the Public Works Department in regard to their principal requirements, and the Power Boards in the matter of pole supplies from overseas. Similarly, he thought that the Wheat Pool Board, and the owners of private siding stores might co-operate to help in spreading their traffic over longer periods, and so release wagons for other purposes. “An improvement at ports could be made,” said Mr. Kent, “if shipping agents advised captains by wireless regarding the conditions exisiting at the respective ports.” Chambers of Commerce and Carrying Agents might also assist by helpful co-operation in maintaining a more even flow of traffic which would secure greater expedition in handling for all.
The General Manager (Mr. H. H. Sterling) said that the suggestions made by Mr. Kent would help them to think along fruitful lines. “We are absorbing more than a fair share of the shocks resulting from an unregulated flow of traffic,” he continued. Some of the matters referred to by Mr. Kent had been dealt with in the annual report, and Mr. Sterling was sure a more timely subject could not have been chosen. “Let us,” he said, “educate outside bodies to a point where they will actively co-operate, then use that co-operation to soften the shocks resulting from sudden and sharp fluctuations in traffic.” The conditions referred to were not confined to Government Departments, but extended to all phases of transport. “The country,” said Mr. Sterling, “cannot go much further in expecting the Railways to find rolling stock for a few peak weeks.”
At the conclusion of the conference the General Manager arranged for a special committee to deal comprehensively with the matters opened up by Mr. Kent's remarks.
Well-Merited Success
Miss M. V. Roussell, M.A., a graduate of Victoria University College, Wellington, was recently successful in passing the State and Hospital examinations in massage at Dunedin, heading the list in each case.
Miss Roussell, who is a daughter of Mr. P. G. Roussell, General Superintendent of Transportation, N.Z.R., is a past pupil of the Jubilee Institute for the Blind.
General Manager's Message
The Safety Of Rail Transport.
With the summer holiday period approaching and travel plans in the air, some reference to the safety element which the railways provide is worth while. Consideration of some of the facts upon this point by those contemplating travel may well lead to a decision to use the rail whenever possible by such as desire to obtain to the full the benefits to be derived from their annual or Christmas vacation.
It is a policy throughout the entire railway world—now amounting to a tradition—to press ever onward in the development of safety appliances and, in recent years, great progress has been made in this direction with this definite result—that the accident figure in railway travel has decreased with an increasing traffic.
Railway expenditure has been very heavy to secure this greater margin of safety, but the benefit to travellers has been most marked.
The question is sometimes raised as to how far a transport organisation is justified in proceeding with additional expenditure in order further to safeguard the lives of the travelling public. Railway administrations the world over have certainly not been niggardly in expenditure for this purpose, and the records of safety in transport established, particularly by the railways of Great Britain, are outstanding tributes to the spirit of generous treatment towards their passengers and personal responsibility in relation thereto, which have marked the policies of the companies in question regarding the personal safety of their clients.
In New Zealand, during the last three years, we have put up rather a remarkable record in the safe conveyance of passengers. In examining the Department's Annual Statements for these years, I find that during the period referred to, some 77 million passengers were carried by rail. The same Statements contain tables indicating that no passengers were killed in train accidents for the three years ended the 31st March, 1929. Through the current year to date also, the same record holds of no train accident fatalities amongst railway passengers.
A comparison with the incidence of accident on roadways is here appropriate. During the last three years, deaths from motor-vehicle accidents in New Zealand have totalled 463, the “overturning and collision of cars and such like accidents” accounting for the ominous total of 176 deaths during 1928, i.e., for one year alone. Road fatalities in Great Britain last year totalled 5,489, or at about the same proportion to population as in New Zealand, namely one in every 8,000. That is a very high annual accident death-rate from one cause alone. It means that in a life prospect of 60 years one in every one hundred and thirty-three will be killed in a motor vehicle accident.
Upon the railways it is, of course, our job to carry passengers safely. It gives occasion for modest pride that we have done it so successfully in recent years. But it is good to know that this comparative immunity from accident is not itself accidental—it is the result of careful examination after every accident to discover what means could be evolved to prevent a recurrence; large expenditure upon safety systems and appliances; careful preparation of, tutoring in, and examination regarding rules of safety to be observed by everyone of our employees; and most important of all, a strongly developed sense of responsibility amongst all our train operating staffs for the safety of passengers who place themselves in our care.
General Manager.
The Restless Sex prepare to run the “Special”
A party of smiling Railway girls besiege a locomotive at Wellington, New Zealand.
, Dip.Ed.)W. S. Dale , M.A.
The following is the first of a series of articles upon Industrial Psychology, prepared specially for the N.Z Railways Magazine by Mr. W. S. Dale, M.A. An examination of this subject has been made by Mr. Dale to exhibit the extent to which the theory of modern industrial psychology has been applied to the working of the New Zealand Railways system.
The use of the word psychology has fallen into disrepute since it has become the universal term for all sorts of studies. Charlatans, seeking to impress a gullible public, speak glibly of the psychology of this, that or the next thing. As a natural outcome of such conditions the word has lost much of its true significance, as well as being held in some contempt, if not fear, by certain sections. The aim of these articles is to show the very close connection between psychology and industry indicating, with actual examples, just how the two are interdependent.
It should be remembered that psychology is, briefly, the science of the mind. This definition, however, does not prevent a consideration of the physical side of life. Most readers will agree that mind, as we understand it, cannot be separated from body. The functions of the “mind” in seeing, memorising, paying attention and so on, cannot be divorced, in a satisfactory manner, from the physiological aspect. The acceptance of such a view will, therefore, make it plain that, in considering certain industrial problems, account must be taken of fatigue, health, muscular co-ordination and similar factors. Finally it must be realised that we have not, as yet, satisfactorily solved many psychological problems. What we know of the subject is not final. Take fatigue as an instance. Many books have been written, much investigation has been undertaken, but we have not reached the stage when we can say “It is the end.” The most we can say is that, so far as we know, our investigations indicate certain conclusions. All over the world investigations are being carried on, the work is being reduced to a practical basis, real measurements are being made in factory and in workshop, and it is this body of knowledge which indicates the why and the wherefore of much of our industrial procedure.
Having thus shown, briefly, the need for knowledge of the subject, let us direct attention to industry. The aim of any business organisation is to provide the public with a commodity of some sort. It may be goods, or it may be advice which the business man supplies; it does not matter which it is as long as it is given in an efficient manner. The adaptation of certain psychological laboratory data to business has made it possible to attain the end desired in a more practical manner because it has indicated in clear-cut terms the necessity for considering the intermediate factor between originator and consumer, namely the employee. It does not in any way alter the aim, that is business alone, but it does indicate how the aim can be attained without a useless expenditure of bodily exertion—which hereafter we shall term energy.
Perhaps the most interesting example of the application is shown in the typewriter, in which the mode of learning demonstrates the relation of psychology to business.
First, let us consider the position of the keys.
At Otahuhu Workshops.
The General Manager of Railways, Mr. H. H. Sterling (left), and Mr. E. T. Spidy, Superintendent of Workshops (right), snapped during a recent inspection of the new Workshops at Otahuhu, Auckland.
Of course the language is not scientific; engineers and others dealing with pressure and weights realise at once that the pressure must be expressed in, say, foot-pounds or some other technical measure. At the same time, however, the facts, as stated, convey the basic ideas to a non-technical individual. Just at this point there is a further factor. Scientific research has developed the “minimum effort” machine, but is there any resultant return to the individual, unless definite training is given in pressing the keys? The answer is, “No.” So the human factor enters. Girls are taught how to press the keys with the exact amount of energy. The gain is obvious, energy saved is a victory over fatigue.
But that is not all. No typiste is a standard individual. Differences creep in, differing rates of speed appear. To find out how remarkable these individual differences are, refer to anyone employed in a business college. A technique of work, therefore, has been evolved. Touch typing, the slower “sight” work, or a combination of both,—each system has its devotees, although the amateur, it must be admitted, uses a “one” finger sight system obviously slow and wasteful in practice. For reasons of efficiency, touch typing seems to be the most favoured, since it leaves the stenographer free to give her attention to the manuscript from which she is
Stress on the maximum of output has caused some workers to fear or to discredit these “new fangled” notions, and two arguments are conspicuously specious, although it must be admitted that, in general terms, they sound quite logical. The first is that Industrial Psychology means harder work—a speeding up on the day's output and, secondly, it must displace men because of added machinery.
A Busy Corner In A Model Workshop.
(Photo, W. W. Stewart.)
Interested members of the Auckland Chamber of Commerce watching the operation of boring car and wagon tyres on the Duplex Boring Mill at Otahuhu Workshops, Auckland.
At the Otahuhu shops, where applied psychology has been employed, the machines have not caused men to be displaced. Moreover, this is a question of men versus machinery rather than a question of refining and saving human effort. As for the relation between our subject and speeding-up it cannot be dismissed so lightly. Reverting to the typewriter for a moment it certainly seems that all improvements, whether mechanical, technical or in modes of use, aim at an increased output. This is not to be denied, but the employee must see that such an increase cannot be made unless the ultimate factor—human energy—is rightly directed. There cannot be an increase when fatigue makes itself felt. How this factor affects the output will be considered later. To put the relation between “speeding-up” and industrial psychology in another way: consider a working day as being a standard of eight hours. The factors which enter into the output may be classed as:—
(a) Technique of Work, or how the job is done.
(b) Employer's Returns, or The Output.
(c) Energy Expenditure, or amount of effort required to do the job by the employee.
(d) Employee's Returns, or Wages.
This analysis shows two aspects; (a) and (b) concern the employer while (c) and (d) affect more personally the employee. Under normal conditions the employer is anxious to increase the output during the unit of working time; on the other hand the employee is most anxious to
Suppose the employer wishes to increase the output per working unit, how is he to stimulate Labour? The most general way is to offer increased wages on the understanding that the worker uses more energy. The better way, however, is to bring about better working methods—to improve the technique of the job—and to offer, as an inducement to those who will carry out the new technique, a rise in wages. The crux of the matter lies in the statement that he does not demand harder work or a greater expenditure of energy from his employees. There is the possibility, too, that a combination of both means an increase of effort and a new technique of work with an increase of wages, may be evolved.
Tasmanian Farmers Visit New Zealand.
Members of the Tasmanian farmers' party who recently toured the Dominion, entertained at an official luncheon in Wellington. The Railway Department was represented by the General Manager, Mr. H. H. Sterling.
To appreciate the differences which these methods involve, an examination of what they mean in the worker's time unit is essential. If the traditional method of merely increasing wages to obtain an increase in output is followed we may suppose that the result conforms with that desired end. Now, if prior to the difference, the employees were putting forth the greatest reasonable amount of effort in the time unit, then, under the inducement of extra pay “speeding-up” results. In some factories employees have stated to the writer that they felt they were “being driven” in order to complete the job “against time.” These are symptomatic of speeding-up and indicate the result of offering a spur or an incentive to the will, so that more than the greatest reasonable amount of effort is expended during the work unit. This evil result upon the feelings of the employees (with a train of attendant misfortunes to be considered when we discuss the worker) represents the very essence of “speeding-up.”
(To be continued.)
Told ByLeo Fanning
Of course, most of the world's writing is for love—not for love of woman (although she inspires much free prose and verse), but sheer love of writing, love of uplifting, love of explaining, love of advising the other fellow how to mind his p's and q's, cross his t's and dot his i's in matters of this world and the next.
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“Profession: A calling superior to a mere trade or handicraft, as that of medicine, law, architecture, etc. A vocation.” That is what my little three-and-sixpenny dictionary has to say about that vague word “profession,” which is harder to define than drunkenness, public place, politics, or gilt-edged investment. The conclusion of that quotation—“a vocation”—is very upsetting. Cannot a boy have a vocation to be a plasterer or a bricklayer? What is a vocation? That same dictionary (a fairly respectable one) defines it as “a calling or designation to a particular state or profession; a summons; a call; employment; calling; occupation; trade.” If a vocation can be a profession and a trade can be a vocation, cannot a trade be a profession? What is the difference in principle between plumbing and surgery?
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Deep in the mind of the average man is a belief that he is more of a philosopher than the average woman is, and he is apt to be annoyed when woman regards his flow of comment as a mere bubbling of talk. Who could not sympathise with the scolding Xanthippe who had to suffer the absent-mindedness of the philosophic Socrates? Edith Wilner has stated a good case for Mrs. Socrates in these lines:—
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History cries to modern man from countless ages in all countries that he must work out his salvation—not talk it out, not resolve it out by bare majority in open voting or secret ballot— but work it out. This is written in the Old and New Testaments in plain words that go to the root of the matter. “Work out your own salvation,” wrote the Apostle Paul to the Philippians, and he gave a similar message to the Galatians and others.
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All attempts to make human happiness by the elimination of work have failed. When the patricians of ancient Rome dodged work they ran into decay and death. If a man does not believe in God or in a law of God, he has to believe in Nature and a law of Nature, which is: “Man, work out your salvation.” “Give us this day our daily work” must be the necessary preliminary to “Give us this day our daily bread” if the human race is to remain healthful and happy.
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The joy of living is largely the joy of action. Some men and women, freaks of Nature, find contentment in a cabbage-like existence. They
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“Those who have searched into human nature,” Addison wrote “observe that nothing so much shows the nobility of the soul as that its felicity is in action.” Does anybody go to a race-meeting for “go-slow”—except the occasional person who tries to arrange a “stiff”? How bored people become at a football match on a muddy ground when the play is a mere mess of jumbled scrums and tangled line-outs! Not enough visible action—though the players have their own notions about some of the unseen action. The great ruling spirit of British sport is action and it will be the ruling spirit again some day in work as it is now in play. When that day comes the peace will be won. Each person whether employer or employee, will have a conscience about those words, “social service.” Each in his place will give honest value—and then all will be well—but it must be honest value for each and all.
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Poetry is notoriously the worst-paid product of talent or genius, not because it is poetry but because it is not understood by the average person who has a shilling or two to spare for literature after the toll of the “tote” and other things. Anyhow, the poet is not supposed to be interested in flesh-pots.
Railway Improvements In The North.
Construction work in progress in the railway goods yard at Auckland.
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A poet may believe that it takes more power of the mind and soul to write a good poem than a piece of prose, and yet it may be easier to write a sonnet on a sunset than a popular proclamation about a pork-pie or a sausage. The poet does not have to sell the sunset, but the ad.-writer is expected to create a clamour for the pork-pie or the sausage. The poet enjoys a license to please himself with that sunset, which he may serve up as fancifully as he likes, but the modern apostle of truth, the ad.-writer, has not license to play pranks with the pork-pie or the sausage. Pushing that pie upon the public calls for much sublety of though and skill in expression.
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According to the comments of various philosophers throughout centuries, conversation has always been a lost art—and, of course, the gramophone, radio, and other things will stop the world as a whole from regaining the soulful chattiness of the Stone Age. Yet wherever else conversation may vanish or lose itself in a medley of ejaculations and interjections as in big “at homes” and other social assemblies it will always have strongholds in men's clubs and inns.
“As we rush, as we rush in the train,
The trees and the houses go wheeling back,
But the starry heavens above the plain
Come flying on our track.“—James Thomson.
(Photo, W. W. Stewart.)
The Auckland-Papakura suburban train negotiating the Parnell Bank, near Auckland, North Island, New Zealand.
Our London Letter
The Southern Railway of England now operates, in the London area, the largest individual electric railway system in the world. In his present Letter our Special London Correspondent gives some interesting particulars concerning this vast system of electric transportation. He also deals with the progressive educational methods in vogue on the Home railways and the train control systems in operation on the railways of Germany.
Electrification is now recognised as the most satisfactory method of meeting operating problems associated with the working of passenger traffic over busy city and suburban railway routes. Intensive steam-operated services, such as are, for example, employed at the Liverpool Street terminal in London of the London and North Eastern Railway, meet modern requirements up to a point, but in every growing city it is only a matter of time before electric working becomes standard practice. London, Paris, Manchester, Newcastle-on-Tyne, and other European centres have their extensive systems of electric lines, the Southern Railway of England actually operating in the London area, the largest individual electric suburban railway system in the world.
Ever since the introduction of grouping in 1921, the Southern Railway has been working steadily towards the complete electrification of its tracks in and around London. Already some 750 track miles have been converted from steam to electric traction, and, by about next June, extensions recently put in hand will give this Company an electrified trackage of 800 miles. The new routes to be electrified are those between Hounslow and Windsor; Dartford and Gravesend, and Wimbledon and West Croydon. Direct current at 1,500 volts, with third rail transmission, is the system employed, trains composed of motor and trailer cars being worked on the familiar multiple unit arrangement. The new developments will provide for a service of trains in each direction every twenty minutes. Last year the Southern Railway handled 6,500,000 more passengers than in 1927, and in 1927 there was an increase of 11,500,000 passengers over 1926. In securing this increased passenger business, electrification has played an important part. At this stage in electrification's development it is unnecessary to dwell upon the rare appreciation of electric working, displayed by almost every traveller. In electrifying their Otira and Lyttelton-Christchurch tunnel sections, the New Zealand Government Railways have done much to earn the goodwill of the public.
While New Zealanders have been experiencing the varied joys and discomforts of winter, railwaymen in the Homeland have been enjoying the most delightful summer weather. Winter time is essentially the period of the year when greatest attention can be turned to the subject of the education of the railwayman, and during the winter months classes and lecture courses on railway topics are conducted at leading Home centres for the benefit of railwaymen of all grades. In the summer time, however, education is not altogether forgotten here in England. The regular winter meetings of the various railway educational organisations and engineering societies are supplemented
A British Railway Road Motor Unit.
Cross-London Motor Bus operated by the L. and N.E. and Southern Railway.
Railway working in Holland has, to a considerable degree been influenced by Germany, but there are many clever devices employed in German railway operation that are as yet untried in the Netherlands. In automatic train control, Germany has, for example, made far greater progress than any other European land. Three methods of train control are favoured by the Berlin authorities. Mechanical control of the Van Braam type is employed, with track elements placed between the rails, giving a repetition of signal movements in the cab of the locomotive and automatically applying the engine brakes. Recently an improvement of this
Another system of train control utilised in Germany is the “Indulor” magnetic arrangement. Two magnets are employed, one being placed on the Berlin authorities give every encouragement to the staff to bring forward ideas and suggestions calculated to improve train signalling and operation generally.
Modern Railway Signalling.
The extension of the Munich Passenger Station in Germany.
The education of the staff of the London Underground Railways has reached a high standard of efficiency. There are approximately 5,000 men track alongside one of the running rails and the other on the engine tender. The excitement of the track magnet is altered by change of position of the home signal. As the train moves along, one magnet passes over the other at a distance of 5 ½ inches, and the magnets exert an inductive influence on each other, this bringing about an emergency brake application. Some 750 miles of track are fitted with this apparatus. The latest type of automatic train control to be adopted is the optical arrangement invented by Dr. Baseler, of Munich. This system, which rests upon the employment of selenium cells and mirrors, has previously been referred to at some length in these columns. Dr. Baseler is one of the many inventive geniuses the German railways have produced. The employed on the system, and the selection and training of the personnel is the responsibility of a special department. Every applicant for employment is required to pass a medical examination showing him to have a clean bill of health. References are taken up by personal interview as well as by correspondence, and the minimum height of employees is fixed at 5 ft. 7in., as men of shorter stature are placed at a disadvantage in dealing with crowds. Every employee spends his first week in the training school. Here he studies the geography of the system, the interchange points, and the connecting facilities between train, bus and tramcar. During his early years of service the employee is encouraged to attend classes held at the school, and thus extend his knowledge of the working of
A cadet school is another feature of the London Underground Railways staff training scheme. Cadets are selected from men within the service who have displayed unusual aptitude, and from outsiders possessing special qualifications. Selected candidates undergo a six months’ probationary period, which provides for theoretical teaching as well as experience in the actual working of the different departments. The progress of each cadet is carefully watched, and as time goes on suitable men are placed in the more responsible positions within the service.
Asked to name the most famous train in all the world, the American would probably give preference to the “Twentieth Century Limited” of the New York Central, while in England, the popular vote would doubtless be divided between the Flying Scotsman,” the “Southern Belle” and the “Cornish Riviera Limited.” The three latter trains are known the world over as representing the highest standard of passenger train efficiency, and this year the “Cornish Riviera Limited,” has celebrated its twenty-fifth birthday.
A Famous British Passenger Train.
“Cornish Riviera Limited” near Teignmouth, South Devon.
The “Cornish Riviera Limited” pertormed its maiden run from Paddington Station, London, to Penzance, on July 1, 1904. For the 246 miles nonstop run from London to Plymouth, 4 hours 25 minutes were allowed. In 1906, the journey time was cut first to 4 hours 10 minutes, and later to 4 hours 7 minutes. These world-record non-stop runs were of necessity discontinued during the Great War, but in July, 1919, non-stop running to Plymouth again was resumed. In 1927, with the introduction of the “King” class of locomotives, a timing of 4 hours precisely was introduced for the 246 miles journey, giving an average speed of 56 ½ miles per hour. This timing is at present being worked to, and so popular is the train that the “Cornish Riviera Limited” has now been equipped with entirely new passenger stock, embodying many novel features of travel comfort. Thirteen coaches form the train. These are 60ft long and 9ft. 7in. wide. Seating accommodation is provided for 428 passengers and for 119 diners (24 first-class and 95 third-class at one sitting). The kitchen cars are lined with stainless steel sheets for cleanliness, and the passenger car windows are of Vita glass, which admits the health-giving ultra-violet rays from the sun, which the ordinary window glass excludes. Devon and Cornwall, which the “Cornish Riviera Limited” serves, are two of England's pleasantest counties, and the new trains recently introduced into this service are proving exceptionally popular.
Our Magazine
Some Recent Tributes
“Cheap at Double the Price.”
The latest issue of the New Zealand Railways Magazine bears the stamp of progress on every page. With a wealth of constructive and informative material goes a good deal of humour, an outstanding story being the recent experience of a Dunedin pillow porter with a member of the Scots community: “How much?” asked McTavish when he saw the attendant with the pillows. “One shilling,” was the reply. “I'll take three,” said McTavish instantly. Staggered, the porter asked what on earth he wanted three for. “Why,” ejaculated McTavish, becoming suddenly suspicious and buttoning up, “can't we keep them?“—New Zealand Free Lance.
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I would like to send you a note of appreciation concerning your magazine. Personally I find it an extremely interesting journal, well abreast of the times. The illustrations are excellent, and the letterpress is full of “meat” served up in good literary style.
The magazine is of great use to me in my school work, each number being eagerly read by the children—in fact, every copy I have is always in the hand of some child (who is, by the way, a potential client of yours), and the waiting list is as long as the class.
—Chas. W. Boswell, M.A.
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Might I add a word of praise for your magazine, as it is a credit to the New Zealand Railways for the way in which it is compiled.
The pictures of scenery are great and are themselves silent callers to the holiday-maker to spend his vacation in New Zealand.
—Mr. F. Armstrong, 126 Melbourne St., North Adelaide, Australia.
New Zealand Railways Magazine.—This magazine is apparently published with a dual purpose in view; first, to provide the Railway staff with a “house journal” similar to that put out by the large industrial concerns, and second, to stimulate public interest in the railways themselves…. This dual purpose is managed very well indeed. The illustrations are exceedingly well chosen, and the production is of a high-class order. The July number is particularly good in this respect: a lovely scene of Lake Hanlon in the Karamea district takes front place, and there are some excellent scenes of the Buller Gorge before the earthquake. Views of other beauty spots are given, they being taken from Tongariro National Park, the Waihapu River, Cape Foulwind, and some other bush scenery. Mr. Ken. Alexander's humorous contributions are in excellent vein and highly original. Mr. James Cowan contributes “Down the Buller.” Professor T. A. Hunter contributes a very thoughtful and thought-provoking article “Adult Education,” and H. Collett assists with “A Jungle Interlude.” These features ensure general interest and judiciously mixed therewith are interesting data concerning the New Zealand Railways. It is a commendable production.—Wanganui Chronicle.
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New Zealand Railways Magazine for July carries an arresting cover and the material between the covers indicates that it is getting into its stride as an entertaining and instructive publication. The N.Z.R.M. is well and ably edited.—Feilding Star.
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New Zealand Railways Magazine.—A most readable, well-written, and beautifully got up-magazine. We congratulate you. It is quite worthy of the Department and of every support.—The New Zealander.
A. J. A. Fuchs
Some twenty-five years ago the New Zealand Government decided to introduce Quinnat Salmon into the Dominion. The result of this foresight has indeed proved a success, these fish having now become acclimatised. Their numbers are increasing rapidly in the snow fed rivers of the East coast of the South Island—from the Waiau River to the Waitaki River.
These fish usually commence to run early in February, and runs of salmon continue up to the end of May. After leaving the sea the fish will not forage for food in the rivers, but subsists upon its own substance.
A Fine Specimen.
Typical Salmon (weight 35lbs.) caught in a South Island river.
The female fish usually enters the river first, and, after resting for a few days in a convenient pool at the mouth, makes her way in stages from pool to pool up to the headwaters of the stream, the male fish following up in the same manner some days later.
The goal at the head of the river being reached spawning takes place, after which both the male and female waste away and die.
In due course, the fry being hatched, the small fish make their way down the river to the sea, where they remain for a period of from three to five years. These young fish eventually mature at sea, and it is one of the wonders of migration that, with few exceptions, they find their way back to the river whence they were hatched.
Although the fish do not seek food, they are very savage when making their way upstream, and, whilst resting in the pools, readily attack any small fish that venture near them. But for this peculiarity, the angler would have very poor sport, as the salmon, thinking it to be a small fish, mistakenly attacks the spoon or minnow of the fisherman as it flickers past.
The necessary equipment for the sport of salmon fishing may be purchased at very moderate cost. I have found, from experience, that the best revolving spoon to use is a copper and nickel—the cost of which is two shillings and sixpence. For the information of the novice, I might add that a coil of light piano wire (cost about one shilling and sufficient to supply a season's traces), a green dressed flax line (cost about ten shillings), a four-inch Nottingham reel (cost about twenty shillings), a few leads and a bamboo rod (cost about ten shillings and sixpence) is all the additional outfit required.
In the Rakaia River, providing conditions are favourable, bags of from five up to eight fish per day are frequently caught. On various occasions, while fishing at the riverside, I have chatted with fishermen from overseas. These tourist fishermen have been deeply impressed with the good fishing available at such a moderate cost. One gentleman, in particular, mentioned that, at considerable expense he had visited Norway and secured only three small salmon in the noted rivers of that country. He also remarked upon how fortunate we New Zealanders were in having such splendid facilities for this class of sport, both for professional and amateur anglers. No section of the community, on the score of cost, is debarred from enjoying it.
Within easy distance of Christchurch are the Waimakariri (12 miles) and the Rakaia Rivers (36 miles), both of which may be reached by train from Christchurch within an hour, and enthusiasts would enjoy the fine sport of salmon fishing in these well-stocked rivers.
Ken Alexander
Dear Reader, what is a conundrum? Perchance it is one of those cerebral eruptions which run thus:—
My first is a liquorice ladder, my second wears a tail at both ends and wags in the centre, my third is something you can't have until you get it if you haven't got it, my fourth is like nothing on earth, my fifth is what auntie says when she catches her thumb in the wringer, and the whole bundle of brain-fever leads to the knowledge-college. No, astonished reader; let the Wizard of Wessex put this brand of mental myosis across each month in the “Monomaniac's Monthly,” but for us the straight and narrow banana, the dinkum engine-oil, and the permanent way of sanity.
We itch not to ask you: “Why is a Wherefore?” or “When is Wednesday?” the answer to both of which, as you know, is “Because no matter how large a pane of glass you can break with a sledgehammer …” Nor do we wish to corrugate your roofing with the species of educational epilepsy which causes in-no-cent little children to gnaw their rulers down to the last inch and to drink their mapping ink; we refer to such arithmeticklers as this: “If it takes a yard of catsnip at ninepence a nip to make a catastrophe, how many grocers make a gross?”
Or,
“If John eats ten pies for lunch, how long will it take the ambulance, travelling as fast as it can amble, to reach the hospital?”
No, no, Nanette, none of these sanity-snatchers appeals to our sense of justice, so erase the furrows from your milk-white brow (see advertisement on page 00—how to unfold the face) and wade on. To get to the point, what is a conundrum? A conundrum, gentle reader, is something you can't eat—always excepting the mince pie, which is more like the mystery that still baffles Scotland Yard.
According to Webster, the only American who has ever made the English language intelligible, “a conundrum is a riddle proposing for discovery some point of resemblance between things apparently unlike.”
While agreeing that Webster, the word-wizard, surely unleashes an earful, we must insist that the things we propose for discovery, resemble each other so closely that it is possible to identify them only by their birth marks. We ask you, “Why is a railway station like the centre of gravity?” and we expect no reply; on the contrary, the solution is so easy that we offer a prize of a free trip on the platform scales at any railway station for anyone who cannot answer it correctly.
Interrogate yourself, gentle reader; is there not some irresistible attraction about a railway station, stronger even than the farce of gravity or the force of levity? Do not all roads lead, sooner or later, to the rails? There is magic in a railway station, for it is there you see human nature at its best—warm, happy, busy, tingling, palpitating, expectant, humanity; kisses, handclasps, partings, and welcomings; fat luggage, homely parcels, all manner of merchandise; paternal officials whose very appearance makes you feel constrained to take their arms and call them daddy, and all the three thousand and ninety-nine phases of human nature that, in the aggregate, make “life.”
Let's sit awhile and watch the world entrain. We see the careful commuter (which is Americanese for train-catcher); he is a small man with an O.S. wife and many head of children wearing his ear-mark. Having arrived an hour and a quarter before schedule time, they wrap themselves round half a gross of bananas and gaze at the goods shed fixedly, with a sort of surfeited satisfaction.
We see the inevitable late-comer, who is invariably a large male; his bag bears a labelled itinerary which should entitle him to the freedom of the seas and the earth and all that in them is.
We recognise the brand new married couple who, despite their air of matrimonial indifference, are so obviously fresh from the altar that the engine hums “Here Comes the Bride,” and the porters come over all goosey. There is the cute C.T., who is itching to tell someone something he heard at the Savage Club; also, the old lady who wants to know if the train really goes; the human luggage lift accompanied by the marital inspiration of his perspiration; the fat girl who appears to gaze hungrily at the plump baby on the next seat; the modern incarnation of the Queen of Sheba, who never travels without eight air cushions and a vanity case as big as a mail-bag; the semidetached wife; the self-contained spinster; and—in short, the whole box of human tricks.
A gay scene, demme! — a bright and colourful scene.
“Still baffles Scotland Yard.”
You've got your Railway Station.
“Take their arms and call them daddy.”
But we must apply the Westinghouse to our exuberance, lest you, temperamental reader, react as did the gentleman of Kalamazoo, Mich., who, having accumulated a bankful of dollars, desired to test the national theory that the Benighted States occupies nine-tenths of the globe, by galloping over the remaining one-tenth touristically. To his amazement, while running the microscope over the terrestrial sphere (made in U.S.A.) he discovered a rugged little piece of land which looked as if it might have slipped off China during a gale, but which bore a name lending colour to his theory that it had drifted out of the Zuder Zee at spring tide. “Little old Noo Zealand,” he murmured, and called for “literatoor” on the subject. Unfortunately, owing to a run on such printed matter, none was available, so he wrote to Enzed and received enough typographical information to fill a truck. For a week he locked himself in his dollary (American equivalent for library), refusing to see even his favourite footwear merchant. Finally he emerged, a changed man; he looked entirely “kruchenised”; his cheeks wore the ruddy glow of health, and his brow was tanned; at intervals he cried, “haeremai,” and demanded mako-shark on toast.
“Say pop,” queried Sadie, his youngest and most expensive issue, “when air we going to li'lle ole Noo Zee?”
“Going to Noo Zealand,” shouted her dollarous parent. “Why, kid—I've Just Got Back.”
Which just shows the power of the printed word.
The most burning question of the day, dear reader, has nothing to do with the Jewish question, fire insurance, or love. Truly each of these is inseparable from the science of conflagration. Let us, for instance, consider Love as one of the inflammatory questions of the ages. Time was when the average suitor's love was of such voltage that he was obliged to wear an asbestos chest-protector to save his braces from incineration. Those were the days, romantic reader, when strong men melted like margarine in the heat of the moment, when Eros shot flare bombs at the palpitating corsage of panting damsels, and the whole business was shunned by the insurance companies as an unprofitable risk. This form of emotional incendiarism is still popular along the volcano belt, but for us the flames of love have been quenched with ice cream and surf-bathing. No longer do we moan at the moon as if we had been stung by an Italian bee in a vital spot, when some specimen of the modiste's passion for sartorial economy throws us an eyeful. No longer do we write sonnets to Semolena, lyrics to Lucretia, or fatuity to Fatima. No longer do we get insomnia over Ermyntrude's eyes. In
“The porters come over all goosey.”
“There is so much of Ermyntrude visible.”
Thus, dear reader, it is evident that love is not the burning question of to-day.
It is necessary for some people to be canned before they can be candid, but we are painfully sober when we say that the question to which we have been leading up, and running round, is, “What shall we do with our male young?” Of course, we know what to do to our boys—that is something which “every father knows.”
As we contemplate them in, their cradles, looking like the negative the photographer ruined, or the bag-wash's blunder, we plan their futures.
We say, “Oh, yes, he will be a sea-captain,” without even examining his extremities to see if he possesses the rudiments of sea-legs, or overhauling him for tattooed anchors; or we remark to his mother, “What a lovely saxaphone player the lad will make,” on the flimsy grounds that he seems to be addicted to orgies of wind spasms, and moans in his sleep.
Only by surreptitiously studying the vocational vagaries and rudimentary reactions of our young can we hope to train them in the way they should grow; for the child is the man and the man who can be the child is some kid.
The infant who socks his aunt in the eye with his porringer will not necessarily turn out an eyesore—he may degenerate into a movie comedian, which unfortunately is often the same thing. The child who falls into everything without a lid, and frequently lands himself in hot water, may fall into something good in the dry-goods line later on, especially if he can transfer from hot water to hot air. For the infant who howls indefatigably it is easy to predict a successful career as a radio denouncer. But the bright lad who eats coal, boils with indignation, has no fear of bogeys, tries to throttle the cat, and rides the rails of his cot, is on the highway to the railway; in short, his life's motif is the locomotive, and even with the home signal against him, he is bound to collect the tablet. So let our song be “Watch and Wait” rather than “Bait and Botch.” As the circus proprietor said to the stationmaster while he trucked the elephants, “There are often big things in train.”
Knotty “Nots.”
Lives of others oft remind us
We should neither plan not plot
Furtively to make our infants
Into something that they're not.
“Surreptitiously studying the vocational vagaries of our young.”
Having vocalised on vocations it is only “meat and right” (as the butcher remarked) that we should put the points over to Vacations, for the holiday spirit is already manifesting itself in summer suitings and semi-detached frocks, and soon the sleepers will awake to the song of old King Coal and his army of fiddlers.
If there is anything certain in this world of ink and blink, it is that summer is a “bird.” We know it, because we get the bird every morning. He arrives with the first flush of dawn, but he is no flusher; he is out to deliver a beakful—the completest range of fruitiest, fluteist, throbbiest, throatiest melody that ever fructified under feathers. He opens the meeting with a restrained throaty murmur like Gertie's morning gargle; then he lets slip a whispering whistle as if reluctant to connect us too abruptly with the daily task; but almost immediately he throws discretion to the dogs and tips over a gross of preludes in everything from A major to “Z stands for Dutch cheese”; he follows up his advantage with a storm of warbles, sinks into low gear for a moment; and then steps on the gurgle-gas and tells the world with variations. He whistles like a tram conductor, hoots like five o'clock, moans like the morning after, and suddenly chirps plaintively as if realising that after all a beak is a poor medium for expressing the emotion which surges beneath his pin-feathers. Nevertheless, he tries them all over again, flinging them over, tossing them through the lead-light, sobbing, whimpering, shouting, gurgling—entreating you with tears in his eyes to believe with him that summer is at hand. Finally he gives it up, positively with a subterranean sob, as if he would say: “You poor cuckoo, if this is not enough to convince you that summer is about to spring, and that it is time to park the
And he is right, for—
It's Summer!
For soon the world will find a place in the sum and the steel road will hum to the tune of whirring wheels; the daily task will be left in the care of Mr. Chubb, and Enzed will break out in a rash of rejuvenation contracted through Rambling by Rail.
The Railways and Road Transport
With their long experience in the science of transportation, and their possession of facilities such as stations, hotels, steamships, and the like all over the country, no organisation is better equipped to take a hand in road transport than the Home railways. In course of time, it seems likely that railways the world over will become actively engaged in the movement by road, as well as by rail, of both passengers and freight. Whether in this new era they will still be designated as “railways” remains to be seen. Who knows, but that in years to come the word “railways” may disappear, to give place to some more comprehensive term, such as “transportways” or simply “carriers”?
.)Tangiwai
For the first time in the history of our great mountain resorts, dogs from the far northern lands of snow are being used in the development of the Southern Alps for travellers. The fifteen Alaskan dogs which were brought out from America for the Byrd Antarctic expedition are inland at the Mount Cook Hermitage, and are doing excellent work in hauling sledges up across the moraine and the ice for new huts high up in the valley of the Tasman Glacier. Formerly everything for the higher hut of the two, that at the Malte Brun range, 6,500 feet above sea level, has had to be carried up on the guides' and porters' backs. The half-wolf breed from the northern wilds have saved the Mount Cook staff many a weary journey.
The dogs are to be taken down to the Ross Sea, in Antarctica, for the Byrd explorations in the coming summer, probably early in December.
Who was it said that the cleverest man that ever lived was the fellow who invented interest? Our Jewish friends say that this genius was a Scot, and the Scot says he was a Jew. At any rate it was a wonderful discovery. Seventeen years ago Mr. T. G. Macarthy, a wealthy business man, of Wellington, left in his will a sum of about £200,000, the income from which was to be devoted to educational and charitable institutions in Wellington provincial district. To date a total sum of £138,527, the business profits and accrued interest, has been distributed amongst various institutions. The amount varies from year to year, but every year a great number of deserving causes receive much-needed gifts. Under skilled management by the Public Trustee, the estate of this benefactor remains in perpetuity, a monument to the generosity and far-sightedness of a man who all his life was a kind-hearted friend of all in need.
Many millions worth of bullion have been won from New Zealand's gold mines, but the great treasure-producer of the future will be the Dominion's tourist traffic. The Prime Minister is a great believer in the possibilities of this always-increasing business; a widely travelled man himself he well knows that there is nothing in the world to surpass these Islands in natural wonders and wild beauty. When in Nelson some time ago, opening a new bridge to develop the back country, Sir Joseph Ward spoke of the great national importance to New Zealand of developing the means of travel and opening new and strange sights.
“Not even the great meat and dairy industries,” he said, “will bring into this country as much as the tourists will leave behind them.”
New Zealand is fortunate in possessing so many small off-shore islands, seemingly designed by Nature as places of sanctuary for the too-quickly vanishing native birds. There are
New Zealand'S National Sport.
A special train at Cross Creek station (Wairarapa line) conveying football enthusiasts to Carterton for the interprovincial match between Auckland and Wairarapa.
It is good to hear that the weka has been known to kill its enemy, the stoat and the weasel. It is about the only native bird that can hold its own against those imported curses of the Maori bush.
Some day, when Wellington rejoices in the sight of its new Dominion Museum, erected on the commanding site of the present gaol-like military barracks, there should be space to display the numerous Maori war flags that now lie packed away in long cases in a lumber shed. They are wonderfully picturesque some of these relics of the days when Maori nationalism tried in vain to sweep back the pakeha tide. There is one with a quite romantic history, Te Kooti's “fighting whip,” as he called it, a long tapering flag, not unlike a Royal Navy paying-off pennant. It was made by the nuns of a Roman Catholic convent in Hawke's Bay more than sixty years ago for the Government Maoris, the Queenites—as opposed to the adherents of the Maori King—but the rebels captured it, and whenever Te Kooti announced to his wild riflemen a raid on the pakeha, not Blue Peter but “Te Whiu” to the masthead flew.
That gallant colonial soldier, Captain Gilbert Mair, recaptured it for the Government side in 1870, when he shot its bearer in a long running fight near Rotorua. It is “a banner with a
Among the historical treasures of this kind in the Auckland municipal buildings is a captured fighting-flag twenty feet in length by six feet in width, bearing a blood-red defiant figure representing Tu-mata-uenga—“Tu of the Angry Face”—the god of war. But a still more remarkable war-colour is one that has gone a-missing; I would like to hear of its recovery for exhibition. It is the flag captured in 1860 by the bluejackets of H.M.S. Niger at the battle of Waireka, on the Taranaki coast. It bore a representation of a peaked mountain—Mt. Egmont—and the Sugarloaf Rock at New Plymouth (these symbolising the land of the Maori), a heart, and a rayed sun, both emblems full of meaning. This token of patriotic sentiment was presented to the Governor of the day, Gore-Brown, at Auckland, and I believe was sent to England. Some of us in New Zealand would like to hear of its whereabouts, if it still exists.
Our artist has given us, in his head-piece to this section a vignette of an old-time whaling station. What an immense deal could be written about New Zealand's whale-hunting history and associations! We had more than a century of it on the coast, and some whaling is still done here and there, at Tory Channel, Kaikoura, and North Auckland.
On The West Coast Of The South Island.
A scene at a wayside station on the Westport-Cape Foulwind Branch Line.
But what I started out to say was to remark on, for one thing, the picturesque character of the whalers’ technical tongue. Leaving aside the adjectival eloquence of the bucko mates and boat-steerers, the professional language was full of charmingly expressive terms. Just one example. My old acquaintance, big Tom Jackson, of Kaikoura, who had been whaling for nearly sixty years, was telling the story of a wild day off Tory Channel with a killed right whale in tow of his six-oar boat. They were buffeted by the “but-end of a nor'-wester” and they might have been swamped by the breaking seas, but the oil exudations from the harpoon and lance wounds in the whale put a slather on the waves and scarcely a spray came aboard. “The sleek o’ the whale,” he said, “smoothed off the tops o’ the seas.”
The Wonderland of Vestland, New Zealand.“Both from the point of view of scenery and as a field for mountain sport, the New Zealand Alps can hold their own with those of Switzerland or the Rockies.“—The Rt. Hon. L. G. Amery, formerly Secretary of State for the Dominions.“The glories of these snowy mountains, piled saw-edged igainst the great broken ranges looming blue and green, and the glistening still billows of the glaciers will never fade.“—Mr. James Cowan, in “See New Zealand First.”
[Photo, Dr. E. Teichelmann.]
On the West Coast of the South Island. Backed by the grandeur of the Southern Alps, with peak of Mt. Cook peeping through the clouds, the terminal face of the Fox Glacier is seen reflected in the still waters of Lake Matheson. Ninety-odd miles south-west of Greymouthly rail and motor, the phenomenon of glaciers reaching down through magnificent forests to within short distance of the sea is found the region of the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers.
“Chiefly have Britain's engineers graven the mark of British rule upon the face of India. Their works stand forth imperishable monuments to accomplishment. No matter what changes the march of time may produce, the achievements of the railways, irrigation and trunk road systems, will stand forth pre-eminently; and of these three the place of honour must be accorded the railway system,” writes Mr. H. Collett in the following article descriptive of the State Railway System of India and of the quaint customs characteristic of the people of our great sister Dominion.
Following upon the suppression of the Great Indian Mutiny of 1857 and the establishment of peace, Britain became directly interested in the economic welfare of a people newly come under her jurisdiction. As a consequence, many new activities sprang into existence: some—under the prevailing conditions of that period—being considered, not only extravagant, but open to ridicule as bordering upon the too paternal. These activities were developed mainly along technical channels entirely apart from the ramifications of the Indian Civil Service. So pronounced was their immediate success, so rapid their development and growth, that, in a very short time indeed, the employment of Europeans and natives by the Technical Department greatly exceeded that of the Civil Service.
Chiefly have Britain's engineers graven the mark of British rule upon the face of India. Their works stand forth imperishable monuments to accomplishment. No matter what changes the march of time may produce, the achievements of the railways, irrigation and trunk roads systems, will stand out preeminently; and of these three the place of honour must be accorded the railway system. The exigencies of wider travel greatly improved and ameliorated the lot of the poorer classes. Remote villages came into touch with an outer world and were no longer compelled to remain self-supporting; were enabled to enter into avenues of commerce hitherto closed to them. Moral changes, too, resulted; caste prejudices were forced to relax giving place to a wider and broader outlook.
As the railways advanced, stupendous difficulties were met with that had to be overcome. Great bridges—some “three decker” as at Cawnpore—had to be thrown across wide rivers such as the Ganges—the Holy Brahminic stream—the Jumna, the fiercely flowing Sone. Calculations had to be made to meet the emergencies against monsoonal flood waters. In bridging the Ganges moral obstacles also had to be diplomatically countered, to conform with a policy of non-interference with religious matters. The suspension bridge across the Sone is an engineering marvel. Slowly, immutably, irresistibly, the “iron ribbands” crept over treacherous swamps and quagmires, across the ever-shifting soil of the Gangetic delta on embankments of wonderful enterprise; negotiated the steep Ghat Ranges by means of spidery aqueducts and tortuous zigzags.
To-day India has a greater network of railways than any other portion of the British Empire; in fact, if a world comparison were made, she is third on the list, behind only Germany and Russia. On a “population basis” the teeming millions of India rank her low indeed. In round figures she has over 40,000 miles of railroad. Over this system about four hundred million of passengers are transported yearly; and about one hundred million tons is freighted. Cost of travel is remarkably low, and that of freightage correspondingly moderate. Travelling by “third class” costs about a shilling for sixty miles; yet, in spite of these charges, the Indian Railways, as a whole, produce enormous surplus profits.
About four-fifths of the Indian Railways have now become Government property. At the inauguration of the system Government ownership was not the policy of construction—it was left to private enterprise. Then, when it became evident that private companies were not able to
The Holy Brahmin City.
(Courtesy The B.B. and C.I. Rly. Annual, Bombay.)
Temples on the River at Benares.
As a result of the initial construction of the Indian Railways being left to private companies, there is a great diversity in gauge uniformity. At the earliest stages the English gauge was discarded for one measuring 5 ft. 6 ins. considered to be especially adapted to requirements of Indian traffic. This is the gauge in use by the three principal systems: and to-day their actual mileage totals as much as the other three gauges in use. Next comes the metre (3 ft. 33/8 ins.) system; and these two gauges are the main arteries of transport. The mileage totals of the remaining two gauges (2 ft. 6 ins. and 2 ft.), are comparatively small. When the Indian Government decided upon entering into railway building on its own account, the metre gauge was favoured for purposes of economy. This decision was accepted by other private companies receiving concessions after that date.
It is more than probable that, had the great capacity and regularity of present requirements been forseen, the capital expenditure saved in the construction of narrower gauges would not have received much consideration.
Transfer of merchandise from one system to another involves many difficulties. Not only are there heavy losses entailed, but opportunities for larcency are afforded apart from the continuous expense of transference.
This applies, of course, to all countries where-diversity of gauge exists, and it is a matter which even now is receiving the considered attention of railway executives. In India, particularly, there are many local conditions which tend to intensify the inconveniences attendant upon mixed gauges.
The Railway towns of India are mostly situated adjacent to the cities. Howrah, the largest of these, may be considered almost as a suburb of Calcutta. Tundla a few hours run by rail from Agra; Mogul Serai near to the Holy City of Benares, and so on.
Amongst these, Mogul Serai may perhaps be considered the most picturesque as to environment and situation. Here, about 100 families are domiciled by the East Indian Railway. The town is built conveniently close to the railway station, locomotive sheds, workshops and offices. It consists of one long street lined upon either side by “Goolar” (a common and non-commercial native fig) trees, very umbrageous and completely arching over a cindered surface. Along this are erected spacious brick bungalows with deep frontages for the use of the married men and their families. Fronting the station is the school-house, children's playing ground and the gardens. Along to the right is the Institute (library and reading rooms) and dance hall. Near to this is “the barracks” for the single men, with a café and sleeping rooms attached for the use of employees visiting on duty. Midway and fronting the Institute are the Railway Co-operative Stores.
The railway schools are really for younger children and are of a preparatory nature. From these railway schools the children are sent away to boarding schools and colleges to complete their education. These schools are under the control of school-mistresses who, whenever possible, are the widows of employees who have died in the discharging of their duties.
The staff of the stores is chiefly composed of Baboos (the colloquial name given to Bengalese) who are under the direct supervision and control of a visiting European comptroller to whom all supply requirements are submitted and disposal accounted for. Here all general supplies, such as rice, flour, tinned goods, drapery, furniture etc., may be purchased at special and reasonable prices.
The World'S Architectural Gem.
(Courtesy the B.B. and C.I. Rly. Annual, Bombay.)
The Taj Mahal, Agra.
About two miles distant is the original and native village whence most fresh food supplies are obtained. Great rivalry pertains amongst the vendors for custom, and competition is very keen as a consequence. To us, in New Zealand, the process of supply would appear strange and ridiculous. Everything is brought to one's doors regularly. The dood-wallah (milkman) makhan-wallah (butterman) toti-wallah (baker), kasai (butcher) and others all call round with their wares. Amongst all these the dood-wallah may be deserving of a special mention. He calls twice daily; between 5 and 7 a.m. and 3 and 5 p.m. are his regular visiting hours. He does not bring his milk round in cans as do our milkmen. To do so would be too great a temptation, for “watering,” to resist. He brings along the “source of supply.” You can see him coming along leading a cow—or she buffalo if you prefer that animal's milk—at the end of a rope passed through the nostrils. Under one arm he carries the last calf, stuffed with dried grass. Tying the animal to a post he places the “calf” alongside its dam and is ready for business. If you are in search of information and want to know the “why and wherefore” he is only too ready to gratify your wish.
“Sahib,” he will say, “all females are full of whims which a wise man humours, even so it has been from the very beginning! This female infliction of my life will withhold her milk unless given her calf to lick; and being femaler therefore a fool, she does not recognise the calf is dead! It is the will of Allah.”
He will then milk the animal into a “daikchee” (vessel) handed him by the khitmatgar (butler) collect his payment and depart on his round.
Frequent outings and picnics are organised by the Railway folk who receive free passes to the spot selected. These picnics are often on a
These Railway towns are small and self contained social centres. Rules of etiquette are faithfully adhered to, in fact they are rigidly observed. The ladies have their days-at-home for receiving callers and go visiting in proper style. Owing to climatic conditions there has been a general relaxation as to correct evening dress for men. It is permissible—even at Government House— to wear black trousers with a white Eton jacket and dark red cummerbund. If it is decided to give a dance during the warmer weather one of these “shimyanahs” is pitched in the open, and a dancing cloth tightly stretched over the ground. This cloth is very thick in texture with a highly glazed and polished surface well adapted for dancing.
From Mogul Serai picnickers as a rule go to Benares (pronounced Ba-na-ras) one of the most venerable of India's inland cities and today, the Holy Brahmin City. Originally Brahminic, during the zenith of Buddhist power, it was taken over by that Faith and held by them for eight hundred years. Then the Brahmins again occupied it. As a consequence of this and the Mahomedan Conquest of India, Benares has over two thousand temples and mosques, these in every conceivable variety of Indian architecture. On Holy days the City and River present an equally animated appearance, the temples and ghats being crowded with religious devotees. With the advent of dark the scene becomes absolutely beautiful. Thousands and thousands of chirags (small open oil lamps) illuminate the palaces, temples, ghats and boats on the Ganges, till it is all a scintillant blaze of shimmering light.
Hindu pilgrims come to Benares from all parts of India, journeying frequently over hundreds of miles to bathe in the sacred waters and receive absolution of their sins. The way in which the journey is made may be worthy of description as being singular. Unprotected against attacks of wild animals, scantily clothed, carrying neither food nor drink, they set out from their homes. They measure every yard of the distance with their bodies. Standing at the door of their dwellings they prostrate themselves on the earth, reach out and make a mark to which they walk and again prostrate themselves and so on to the end.
The two principal Brahmin shrines of Benares are the “Monkey” and the “Golden Temple,” both magnificent specimens of Hindu architecture. The former—hence the name—is infested by hordes of Bandars (the Sacred Brown-monkey) who must not be interfered with. So cunning have these animals become that they levy toll of sightseers and if the toll is not forthcoming they certainly make things most unpleasant. One has to purchase about a farthing's worth of chanah (a cereal grain) from the vendors outside the temple precincts, which is thrown to the monkeys inside. This, by some means is communicated through the colony and no hostile demonstration will be made, otherwise the sightseer will be continuously persecuted and no redress may be had.
From Tundla the City of Agra is the rendezvous. We all know of the Taj Mahal, India's architectural gem—in fact of the world—beggaring description. It is the mausoleum built by the Mogul Emperor, Shah Jahan (Emperor of the World), over the grave of his favourite Queen, Mumtaz Mahal (Honoured of the Harem). The building is entirely constructed of pink sandstone and pure white marble. Seen by moonlight no description can possibly convey the beauty of the sight. The marble lace work and carved pillars in support of the Burial Chamber are without rival or peer. When Shah Jahan decided upon building the Taj, he brought together the most skilled artificers of India and set them to work. When the building was completed, with the barbarous power of his day he had the eyes of all the workmen put out so they should never duplicate their work. He certainly pensioned them all for life, but what pension could recompense their loss of sight!
During the declining years of the Mogul power, when the Maharratas were at their zenith, Agra was ravished by this warlike and conquering people. The Taj suffered considerably from their greed of plunder and vandalism. Not only did they remove the decorative precious stones throughout the building, but they carried off the wonderfully chased and carved gates of pure silver; in fact, it appears strange, that, being of Hindu persuasion, and, therefore, inimical to all things pertaining to Mahomedanism,
The annual railways ball at Howrah is quite an important function. Vice-Regal and Gubernatorial parties being in attendance, together with all classes of Anglo-Indian society. The ballrooms present a varied and kaleidoscopic scene, one peculiar to India, the conventional evening dress serving to set off and emphasise the glitter of uniforms, ambassadorial insignia, and the gorgeous be-jewelled costumes of the Indian nobility. No expense is spared that can make the function a complete success. Everything is done in the best of style, the music being provided by Regimental, Railway and De Souza's Bands.
Very many of the sons of the Railway employees go to La Martiniere College, at Lucknow, to complete their education.
(Courtesy The B.B. and C.I. Rly. Annual, Bombay.)
The Residency, Lucknow.
General Claude Martin, a French soldier of fortune, entered the military service of the Hon. the East India Company, attained to high rank and died in September, 1860. He had become enormously wealthy, and built a palace which he named “Constantia.” Architecturally, this palace is unique in construction; a veritable hybrid of Italian, Hindu, and Persian modes; yet withal an imposing building. Under his will General Martin endowed three colleges, Lucknow, Calcutta, and Lyons (France), his birthplace. Of these the College of Lucknow is the chief, and takes for its motto, “Labore et Constantia,” thus embodying the original name of the palace.
Under the terms of the will it is provided that so many boys be educated “free of charge,” others paying “quarter” or “half” fees according to circumstances. These boys are termed “Foundationers,” “Semi” and “Semi-demi-Foundationers.” As the boys wear a uniform it is impossible to tell which is which, and no distinction in treatment is permitted. Where a man loses his life in discharge of duty, and leaves his widow and family in straitened circumstances, the College steps in as regards education. Every boy is a volunteer, the College having its own officers. The status of Martiniere may be gathered from the fact that, either the Viceroy or one of the Governors, attends at and helps in the distribution of prizes at “break up,” and the “guard of honour” is provided by the students. The College grounds are extensive, over a mile square, stretching from the Canal (Ganges Gumti) to the Gumti River in an opposite direction. The building itself is fully a quarter of a mile from wing to wing, and four storeys in height, centrally. At the extreme top are two crossed arches supporting the flagstaff, from which the Union Jack floats triumphantly, as it were, on all gala days.
The more responsible and executive positions throughout the different Railway systems are held by European officials. In the larger and important centres are European stationmasters with a mixed staff under their control; the small and isolated sidings, etc., are worked by a purely native staff, under, generally, a Bengalese in charge. Many of these are naturally situated in tiger and leopard country, so for the safety and protection of those operating such places, offices and living rooms have been provided, built high off the ground, and accessible by rung-ladders. This furnishes a degree of safety; for though the leopard is an agile climber, he cannot negotiate the slight, strong and open ladders. The tiger does not climb at all.
The belief in transmigration of the soul is very widely spread amongst the Hindu people. Amongst some it is held that if a man has led a good and virtuous life upon earth he is permitted to return after death in the guise of some innocuous or useful animal; on the other hand, if his life has been bad he is sent back as some predatory beast. As a consequence, Hindus are averse to the taking of any life, refusing to kill even under any circumstances, for the animal may be one of their own ancestors. They may send for some Sahibs, as a last resort, to do what they will not do for themselves.
Without Rival Or Peer.
(Courtesy The B.B. and C.I. Rly. Annual, Bombay.)
The marble screen surrounding Mumtaz Mahal's Tomb, Taj Mahal.
The following incident, arising from this belief, occurred at an isolated station. A tiger had put in an appearance, and the staff fled to sanctuary. The Bengalese in charge there was in a quandary as to what should be done. He evidently must have got a brain wave for he wired to the General Manager, miles away at Calcutta:—
“Tiger possessing platform, wire instructions.”
Of course the General Manager could not do anything in the matter, his reply was terse and significant. However, a passing train settled things. As it hurtled through the station it scared “Stripes” back to the jungle, probably never to return again.
Workshops Apprentices’ Football MatchLower Hutt Workshops Team.
Back row (left to right): J. W. Arnold, D. Churcher, L. E. Williams, R. Wickham, R. F. Beardmore, L. Benge, W. Blackwood, T. Boswell, J. Feeney, G. Carter (Instructor). Front row: E. V. Kerridge, E. G.Hancox, D. J. Ryan, B. R. Ross (Captain), R. Baker (Vice-Captain), H. Lane, C. Brassell.
Otahuhu Workshops Team.
Back row (left to right): A. E. Thomson (Instructor), L. Auckett, T. Walsh, R. Munro, P. Quirke, D. Cleverley, G. Pepper, D. J. Haining, R. Shipp, H. Spiller. Front row: T. White, A. Miller, F. Ford, D. Hill (Captain), W. Connor, E. Roughton, R. Hammond, C. Woodley.
The ever popular annual football match between teams representing the apprentices of the Lower Hutt (Wellington) and Otahuhu (Auckland) workshops, was played at Otahuhu on 24th August last, resulting in a win for the Lower Hutt team by eighteen points to eleven. The excellent arrangements made by the Otahahu apprentices for the match and for the subsequent entertainment of the visitors, were much appreciated by the boys from Lower Hutt.
.)J. A. Baine , Wellington
“Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, And marvel men should quit their easy chair, The toilsome way, and long, long league to trace; Oh! there is sweetness in the mountain air, And life, that bloated ease can never hope to share.“—Byron
The Urewera country -(Tuhoe-land), which stretches from Hawke's Bay to the Bay of Plenty, is perhaps the least known portion of New Zealand. Few Europeans have ventured into this still virgin land since the year 1869, when Colonel George Whitmore, with his well organised body of armed men, made his famous march into this territory, to acquaint himself with Te Kooti and his hostile Urewera tribes.
A tramping party—Messrs. W. A. Pye, J. W. Pickles, A. J. Hilkie, N. Griffin, W. Whyborn, and the writer, left Wellington recently by the Napier Express to commence a journey through this yet imperfectly explored and interesting land. The following is a brief account of their impressions:—
The journey proper, was commenced from Napier, from which town the trampers were conveyed to Wairoa. The journey took us over Tongoio Hill, through the Devil's Elbow (a precipitous and dangerous drive) some 24 miles from Napier. We then skirted round Lake Tutira (Mr. Guthrie Smith's beautiful bird sanctuary) thence to the Mohaka River where we saw the huge viaduct in course of construction on the East Coast railway.
Arriving at Wairoa at 10.45 p.m. we witnessed an interesting Maori dance held in aid of the memorial to the late Sir James Carroll.
Leaving Wairoa the following morning, at 9.30, for Lake Waikare-moana, a 43-mile motor drive, we passed through Fraser Town (Returned Soldiers’ settlement) and the Ohuka Gorge, and saw the hydro-electric power station at Tuai. Owing to the volume of water at present flowing through the underground passage from the lake, it has not yet been found necessary to tap Lake Waikare-moana. This is a picturesque expanse of water about eleven miles in length and more than 800ft. deep—2,000ft. above sea level. Waikare-moana has an area of some 13,000 acres, which includes Wairau-moana through to the straits of Mania where Te Kooti swam his 70 horses when pursued by Government constabulary. The surrounding forest contains many varieties of rare and beautiful ferns, plants and shrubs. Dotted about this “Sea of Rippling Waters” are numerous small islands covered with luxuriant vegetation. On one of their islands, Patekaha, the natives of old buried their dead. Our party spent half a day on Lake Waikare-moana with skipper Waiteri, a courteous and obliging officer who very kindly explained all points of interest.
A delightful day was spent at Lake Waikare-iti, three miles north-east from Lake Waikare-moana. It is a solitary but captivating spot, about 2,600ft. above sea level. We passed over a well defined track through an old rimu and rata forest, where were viewed the two falls—Papa-o-korito and the lower Aniwaniwa Falls, a 60ft. drop of foaming water. On this charming lake there are about seven small unexplored isles covered with dense forest to the waters edge, and on one of the islands is to be seen another tiny lake.
From Opuruahine, the far end of the Lake Waikare-moana, we set out for Maungapohatu, the home of Ruatapu, the “Prophet” of the Rocky Mountain. This stage of the journey, a distance
tui and the scream of the kaka were much in evidence.
We had luncheon at an old village named Kake-wahine, which had been deserted ten years previously. We then commenced our ascent of the Puaugahua Range (open window) about 3,200ft, where was obtained a perfect view of Mauugapohatu (the sacred mountain). The village with Rua's homestead lay before us. Rua himself was absent, but his family extended to us wonderful hospitality. Our respects were paid to Mr. J. Black, of the Presbyterian Mission, a gentleman whom the writer had the pleasure of previously meeting in Wellington. At this village we had the honour of shaking hands with an old Hauhau warrior, 96 years of age, a most kindly old gentleman nowadays.
The tribesmen of Tuhoe-land were the last native clan to lay down their arms and submit to the pakeha laws, and are now the most loyal of British subjects.
Natives Of The Urewera.
A wahine and child at work in the potato fields at Ruatoki.
Mr. Hillman Rua advised us that to cover the ground mapped out for our journey the party should retrace its steps to Papatotara Junction, where we had previously camped. This information was not received with enthusiasm, for the thought of again tramping that thirteen miles with heavy packs was not pleasing. However, Rua very kindly strapped the “pikau nui” on one of his steeds, and, leaving Maungapohatu at 9.30 a.m. we were at the Junction preparing for the continuation of the journey to Ruatahuna, via Te Waiti, within a few hours. That night we camped at the head-waters of the Whakatane and were welcomed in the usual native fashion by all the neighbourhood.
From Ruatahuna we commenced our course down the Whakatane River. Four miles tramp brought us to Mataatua, probably the largest village in these parts, and famous for its carved meeting house, Te Whai-a-te-motu (The Chase of the Island), built for Te Kooti many years ago. The walls are hidden with reed work and the carved representations of great chiefs of ancient times were fine examples of Maori art. We were most cordially received at this village by Hohi Tari, a beautiful Maori maiden, who was amused by a request to pose before our camera. The village is named, Mataatua, after the canoe which was supposed to have brought the ancestors of the people from Hawaiki.
From Mataatua the journey was continued until we reached the historic Two Poplar Trees, planted to mark the last resting place of Captains Travers and White and a number of their men who fell in the Ruatahuna Campaign, 7–8th May, 1869. That night we made camp at Ohaua-te-Rangi, a native village where we had hoped to meet Te Kotahitana, an old tattooed Hauhau Chief, but were informed that this gentleman passed away over 12 months previously. Continuing on to Whataponga, a distance of eleven miles from Mataatua, we experienced a little difficulty in finding the native track leading from the Whakatane to Waikare-whenua, the tributary which
rata, tawa and mahoe forests. On reaching Waikare-whenua we continued a few miles before reaching the junction of the Waikare and the Whakatane, at Te Kuha-o-Wheterau, when we bid Au Revoir to Tahi, our guide. I might mention that this good fellow had notified all the villages ahead of us that a party of pakchas were approaching and, at these villages, we were shown great hospitality in true native fashion. The next stage of the journey was in the direction of Ruatoki. We were again compelled to ford the Whakatane River many times, occasionally having to make a detour over some high bluff. We passed a picturesque native village, where lived, with his wahine and family, a kindly old gentleman named Noema, who had, along with others, been advised by Tahi of our approach. It was at this village that some of our party ate roasted corn cobs for the first time.
“Tis passing sweet to wander, free as air,
Blithe spirits in the bright and breeze-bless'd air,“
—Ebeneser Elliot.
A primitive pit saw logging camp in the Urewera country.
Early that afternoon Ruatoki was reached, where we collected our first mail, replenished our tobacco supply, then proceeded onward to Taneatua. At Taneatua we came across an old friend “A Government Official,” who very kindly offered to convey us the eight miles onward to Whakatane, arriving there perhaps an hour or two earlier than we anticipated.
At this stage we were approaching the end of our tour with about 60 miles road walk into Rotorua still to complete.
Whakatane, with its giant rocks overhead, called Pohatu-roa or “Lofty Rock,” was particularly interesting. These rocks are of a volcanic nature, about 60ft high, with a number of pohutukawa
With one evening at Whakatane we were rested sufficiently to commence the last portion of our tramp the following morning.
The tramp around the three lakes, Rotorua, Rotoehu and Roto-iti was delightful. The road runs through a beautiful forest pass between Rotoehu and Roto-iti known as “Hongi's Track,” where we saw and photographed the sacred matai tree “Hinehopu” on the right hand side of the road about 21 miles from Rotorua. We observed the offerings of green vegetation placed at the foot of this huge tree by the various native travellers. Laying close at hand is a huge stone that marks the spot where Te Kanewa, an illustrious Arawa Chief, was killed. (Those desiring a full knowledge of these old campaigns should read Mr. James Cowan's graphically written “History of N.Z. Wars.“) Hongi used this track in 1823 to bring war canoes from the coast to attack the Arawas on Mokoia Island where they were massacred. In the year 1908 “Hongi's Track” was made a reserve.
On the edge of the Roto-iti lake we left the main road to walk through about five miles of most magnificent bush scenery to Lake Okataina. Returning to the main road we completed what is regarded as one of the most interesting and varied tours for trampers to undertake in New Zealand.
“It was a tranquil spot that seemed to smile …“—Shelley.
A view on the Whakatane River, Bay of Plenty, 60 miles from Rotorua, North Island, New Zealand.
For the information of railwaymen or others contemplating a similar tour through the fascinating Urewera Country, I might mention that our party covered a total of 865 miles—527 miles by rail, 157 motor, 146 tramping, and 35 by launch.
I wish to offer my personal thanks to those gentlemen who assisted, by means of introductory letters or by information supplied, in making this tramp so delightful in every possible way.
When I am Driving
Distinguished Railway Signal Engineer
Mr. F. L. Castle of England, visits New Zealand.
Mr. F. L. Castle, General Manager of Siemens and General Electric Railway Signal Co., Ltd., has recently completed a tour of New Zealand, during which he was able to secure first-hand knowledge of the plant in use and the conditions prevailing, so as to enable his company to manufacture equipment most suitable to New Zealand's needs. He was agreeably impressed with the signalling installations on the New Zealand Railways, which, he said, compared favourably with similar systems in other parts of the world.
Mr. Castle is a specialist in railway signal work, to which he has devoted the whole of his career. After two years at Derby Technical College and Nottingham University, he joined the Telegraph Department of the old Midland Railway in England in 1909, and was engaged on telephone, telegraph and electrical signalling, devoting a considerable time to the installation of track circuits for signal control. During the Great War, from 1914 to 1919, Mr. Castle served in the Signal Section of the Royal Engineers. He saw service in Gallipoli, Egypt and France, and in the latter country was Commander of No. 2 Railway Signal Company.
On A Tour Of Inspection.
Left to right.—Messrs. W. H. H. Grapes, Automatic Signalling Inspector, N.Z.R.; F. L. Castle (centre), and S. G. Anderson, of Cory-Wright and Salmon, N.Z. Representatives for Mr. Castle's Company, at Defence Siding, Mercer, Frankton.
After the war he joined the General Electric Company, of London, and built up their Railway Signal Department, of which he became general manager, being subsequently appointed general manager of the newly formed Siemens and General Electric Railway Signal Co., Ltd. This Company supply and instal complete electrical signalling equipment, cables, power plant, transformers, lamps, etc. It also supplies individual units of apparatus covering the whole range of requirements for electrical signalling.
Amongst the earliest works carried out by the Company may be mentioned the all-electric signalling installation at Didcot, Snowhill and Birmingham (on the Great Western Railway, England). Derby, on the Midland Railway, was similarly equipped, the work being carried out between 1906 and 1909.
A quantity of power signalling work was also carried out later in France, Egypt and Brazil. Notable amongst the Company's more recent installations of route signalling systems are those at Winchester and Newport, on the Great Western Railway of England; the first installation of four-aspect colour light signals with A.C. track circuits (these being supplied for Holborn and Blackfriars, on the Southern Railway of England), and the whole of the signalling on the new Post Office (London) Railway, about which some of our readers will probably be well informed. Other work includes track circuit and colour light signals on the L.M.S. Railway, London area, and the approach lighted colour light signals on the L. and N.E. Railway the latter
The Company was also pioneer in the all electric Point Operation of Hump Yards, the equipment of the Feltham Yard on the Southern Railway, England, being a notable example. An illustration of the Feltham yard is reproduced with this article. The Toudiapet Hump Yard, Madras, on the Southern Mahratta Railway, India, was also similarly equipped by this Company. Both these installations were the first of their kind in the respective countries.
In addition, the Company supply to individual orders, or by annual contract, large quantities of material, such as track relays A.C. and D.C., impedance bonds, transformers, indicators, lever locks and general accessories for signalling, to Railways in England, India, South Africa, Havana. The Argentine, New Zealand, Ceylon, etc.
The signalling material is manufactured at the Company's works at Wembley, England, not far from the site of the old Empire Exhibition. The shops contain special plant for experimental work and development of signalling equipment, including the necessary testing apparatus to ensure that every appliance is of the highest standard, before being shipped to customers.
The Company's advertising slogan is “Everything Electrical for Railway Signalling,” and the business is conducted on the most up-to-date lines. During the winter months, staff “talks” are held at the Head Office in London. These “talks” are given by senior members of the staff on a variety of subjects pertaining to the business.
An All-Electrically Operated Shunting Yard.
A general view of the Feltham Hump Shunting Yard, on the Southern Railway of England.esprit de corps of members of the staff and create a mutual interest between the commercial and technical departments. These “talks” have proved a real success to the business and the fact that every member attends and joins in the discussions is evidence of the live interest taken in them.
In winter, Mr. Castle tells us, the Company has its Christmas gathering, and in summer an outing into the country or to the seaside. These gatherings and excursions afford an opportunity for members of the staff to mix together and form friendships. There is abundant evidence that these annual social gatherings are of considerable mutual benefit alike to the employees and to the Company.
Mr. Castle writes of his impressions of the New Zealand Railways thus: “The signalling is quite up-to-date, and for meeting, satisfactorily, the conditions existing, compares very favourably with signalling installations in other parts of the world. I refer particularly to the single line automatic signalling. I was greatly impressed with the help and the hospitality extended to me by the whole of the New Zealand Railway officers and staff, particularly by the Signal and Electrical Engineer, with whom I came so frequently in contact. This made my stay in New Zealand most interesting and happy, and I shall always have exceedingly pleasant memories of my short sojourn in the Dominion.”
H. Collett
“Sensible Negotiation”
Three or four years ago there was much talk in the Home Press of the “fight” which was then being waged in Britain between the rail and the road carriers. To-day road competition still worries the railways, but most of the “fighting” has given way to sensible negotiation over the conference table, and almost every day, fresh working agreements are being come to between the Home railways and the road carriers, aiming at the elimination of competition and the co-ordination of their respective services.—From our London Correspondent.
A Famous Scot goes Fishing
“It's. A Graand Morrning For Fushing!“: Sir Harry Lauder Embarking For The Fishing Grounds.
“Stop Your Tickling, Jock!“: Sir Harry Lauder (With Pipe) Landing His Mako Shark.
“Bless Ma Soul, I Took Yon Fesh For A Telegraph Pole”: Sir Harry Lauder With His 340-Lb. Mako Shark.
“A Shark'Ll Have Mae Bit Hawp Wi A Scot As His Opponent”; Sir Harry Lauder In Confident Mood.
“Gosh—But He;S A Braw, Big Fesh, And A Grand Fechter”; Sir Harry Lauder Lands His 340-Pounder.
“And Now I'Ll Hae A Wee Deoch-An-Doris-Just To Celebrate”: Sir Harry Lauder In Smiling, Victorious Mood.
(By Courtesy of the “Sketch,” London.)
“The best holiday of my life” was Sir Harry Lauder's comment on his recent visit to New Zealand's northern fishing grounds where he was successful in landing a 340lb. mako shark. The above illustrations shew the famous comedian in some characteristic attitudes.
Conducted bySheila G. Marshall
<name key="name-411027" type="work">The Grey-Eyed Lady</name>
It was a hot afternoon in January—one of those still, burning days that make the traveller in New Zealand imagine that he is in the heart of the African veldt. The little dusty red station lay panting beneath the pitiless sun. Across the plains stretched the silver thread of the railway track—away towards the cool mountains rising in the distance. A perfect stillness reigned, broken only by the occasional bark of a dog and the melancholy bleating of sheep.
Dick Kinross leant across the gate and gazed with unseeing eyes into the deserted street, cursing himself—cursing everyone—the fate that had compelled him to bury himself there in the heart of the plains—the failure, complete and tragic, of his thirty-five years. He looked down at the half-obliterated plate on the verandah post and smiled bitterly. “Dr. Richard Kinross, M.D., F.R.C.S.“—what irony lay in those magic letters! How he had dreamed in his student days—philanthropic youthful dreams of a life devoted to the suffering of mankind—and now—the drunken doctor of Wai-waka—scorned by the few white inhabitants and adored by the Maoris, whose ills he healed with a magic hand, still cool and steady—still the hand of a surgeon.
He sat down on the unswept verandah and sighed. His had been the usual story—he had loved a girl, worked slavishly to win her—obtained his F.R.C.S. at Edinburgh, and rushed back to New Zealand, eager and successful. She had married his brother, there seems very little of the tragic in this—yet to Dick his life was over. He congratulated them, hid his misery, and drank heavily. Now he was almost forgotten—buried away in the little township of Wai-waka—living, untidy, dishevelled and savage, among Maoris and drovers—hating all mankind, and especially all womenkind.
He was sitting there hopelessly on the dirty verandah, head down, half asleep, in the burning sun. Suddenly the sound of hoofs clattering along the street roused him from his reverie—a Maori lad sprang from his trembling, sweating horse, flung the reins over the gate-post, and called “Where is the white doctor?” Kinross slouched down the overgrown path. “Hallo,” he said, “what do you want, sonnie?” He had grown to love the Maoris, and his eyes softened at the sight of the panting brown lad, covered with dust, evidently worn out from a hard ride in the scorching sun. “The doctor,” gasped the boy; “Boss very ill. The missus say ‘Nepi—ride like the devil—fetch the white doctor from Wai-waka!'” He sank down on the pavement. “Come quick—the boss he die,” he panted.
Kinross lifted the dirty little figure gently, carried him into the untidy room and placed him in his own shabby arm-chair. “Nepi, my son,” he said, “drink this, and tell me what is the matter with the boss.” He bent down and managed to gather from the somewhat incoherent and picturesque description of the young Maori that his master was in the last stages of delirium tremens. “Him scream, curse like the devil—hit missus plenty hard,” said the boy. Kinross packed a few things hastily in his bag, meanwhile calling orders to his servant in the kitchen to saddle two horses. “Come Nepi, I'm afraid you'll have to go with me. I haven't way idea of the way. How far is it?”
Watching The Trains Go By.
A train emerging from a tunnel on the “R.S.R.” Model Railway, Kimberley Road, Epsom, Auckland. This interesting miniature railway was described in our September issue.
“‘Bout thirty miles,” answered the boy, jumping up and tossing the matted hair from his-dark eyes. “Me ready.”
“Good lad,” said Kinross, “we will have to ride like two devils to get there before dark.”
The sheep station lay at the bottom of a wide valley on the coast. Great trees hid it from view, and to Kinross there seemed something almost sinister about their screening shadows. Perhaps it was the moonlight, perhaps the thought of the raving man lying there, perhaps merely a fancy; but it seemed to him that a tragedy lay there behind those trees. Down the valley he rode with the Maori boy, over the turf wet with dew, towards the station. They were greeted by a veritable uproar from the dogs who leapt round them as they rode along the uneven track and into the spacious yard. Darkness prevented Kinross from forming any clear idea of the place, but his first impression was of an old rambling farmhouse, numerous sheds and outhouses, trees, trees everywhere, and the sighing of the wind.
A man in shirt sleeves helped him to dismount, and called a boy to take his horse to the stables. He was a tall, lean fellow, brown, curiously ugly. with a pair of the bluest eyes in the world—evidently a shepherd. “Thank God you've come, doctor,” he said, leading Kinross into the kitchen, where several men sat at a long table playing cards or smoking in silence. Everyone rose awkwardly as Kinross entered—perfect silence fell upon the company. It seemed that the arrival of a stranger was an absolutely outstanding event for these shepherds, living away in the hills, far from the civilised world.
“Tell the missus the doctor is here,” ordered the man who had met Kinross in the yard, with a significant glance towards a tremendous giant who sprawled in a corner. He shuffled out reluctantly, and the men began to mutter together, casting curious glances at the doctor, who stood impatiently waiting, utterly weary. He noticed an atmosphere of gloom about the whole place, even in the cheery kitchen, where a huge fire blazed—it seemed that the shadow of death lay there. After quite a quarter of an hour Kinross began to be annoyed. “Why the devil do you send for a doctor, make him ride like hell, merely to watch you play cards?” he said, angrily. “Where is the boss?” The men regarded him curiously.
“Much better let him die, the drunkard!” growled one.
“Johnson!” Everyone turned quickly towards the door. “How dare you speak like that about your master!”
Often afterwards Dick Kinross would think of her as she seemed to him then, standing in the doorway, imperious, icy and terribly tired, cowing a roomful of rough shepherds with her cool eyes and husky voice. “Where is your husband?” he asked curtly. Even now he could hardly bear the sight of a woman—much less of a beautiful one. She did not answer, but stepped back into the dimly lighted passage. Kinross followed, closing the door carefully. Even in
The Holiday Season.
Railway girls ready for a trip to Tongariro National Park.
A dim light cast fitful flickers on the walls of the room. It seemed to Dick to be full of shadows and nameless whispering shades. There, on the bed, lay the figure of something that had once been a man—now a pitiful and ghastly wreck. Dick started back, shielding his eyes from a sight in a manner ill-befitting a doctor. He seemed to see himself lying there, raving and cursing all men. The woman stood silently in the shadows, watching. Dick did what he could for his patient, and pulling up a chair sat down by the bed, to watch the life ebb slowly away from a fellow creature. Often the man shrieked wildly, and tried to leap from the bed. She, the silent lady, came over and covered him again, smoothing the tumbled sheets always coldly, without a flicker of compassion for the suffering man who lay there.
As the night crept on, she brought a chair and food for the doctor. Dick watched her silently as she bent over her husband, while he cursed her, and felt again a sudden wave of great pity. There was, after all, someone else in the world who had suffered far more than he had—this cold and beautiful woman, who had watched her husband drinking himself to death—who had endured years of hell alone with a man, whom Kinross heard afterwards, had been notorious for his brutality. During that night, as they sat by the bedside, listening to the rain on the leaves, and the ravings of the dying man, Dick learned something of her life, something of its tragedy, for words were unnecessary.
Suffering forms a bond of intimacy more quickly than joy. She had met David Armstrong in England, after two weeks had married him, and come to live upon his sheep-station in New Zealand, full of hope and eager to begin a new life. Fragile, exquisite, and wealthy was the wife whom Armstrong brought back, and jealously guarded from the world—he seemed to take a delight in very slowly and very surely breaking her heart.
Just at dawn, as the storm died down outside, and the world became quiet, David Armstrong died. Dick rose very wearily, but in his soul was a great happiness. “You must go to bed at once,” he said to the girl, and her tired grey eyes smiled for an instant into his. “Thank you—for everything,” she said and held out her hand to him. Dr. Richard Kinross, F.R.C.S., grasped it, and in doing so set his foot once more upon the ladder which leads to success and happiness.
He rode away up the valley with Nepi, the Maori lad. At the crest of the hill he took off his hat. “Good-bye, my grey-eyed lady,” he said, for Romance does not die even in the dark souls of Life's “failures.”
A few months afterwards they were married, Dick and his lady of the cool grey eyes. The shadows lay far behind them, and ahead stretched a path bright with sunshine.
* * *
Peace .
Mountain Sports.
Resting on top of Mt. Ruapehu, North Island.
How to enjoy your Swim
Summer is coming, long bright days and fun for everyone. We are all looking forward to our first dip in the briny, and our first sunbath. Don't stay in too long, otherwise you will lose all the benefit and all the fun of your swim—about ten minutes is quite sufficient, unless you happen to be one of those “favoured few” who are more at home in the salt sea waves than anywhere else.
I have often seen girls (and even men) lying for hours in the boiling sun in a brave endeavour to acquire that fascinating tan, symbol of outdoors and health. Many of them endure the agony of blisters—a scarlet burning skin which peels off and leaves them whiter and more “cityish” than ever, and spoils the fun of a holiday. If you want to be attractively sunburnt do it gradually, and rub a little oil (cold cream, or coconut oil if you can bear the smell) into your skin before exposing it to the rather too ardent kiss of the summer sun. (Men don't despise this vanity.) If you do this you will find that your skin becomes quite naturally a warm golden brown—not in patches.
It is a mistake to stay on the beach when the heat is almost unbearable. Few people really enjoy it, but lots pretend to. Before you go away for your holiday get one of those jolly bright sunshades—you can stick it in the sand and be under its cool shade even when it is scorching. They look so gay and festive, too, and give the sea-side such a joyous and “carefree” air. Don't forget to buy a sun-hat for each of the kiddies. You can send them off for a long day on the sands without worrying about sunstroke and freckles.
Some of us are lured by the spell of the moonlight and are tempted to try a midnight dip. The magic of the calm silver sea and the very word “moonlight” seems to cast its spell over the enterprising. We are surprised to find that the water is wonderfully warm, but after a very few minutes we are glad to rush out along the dark beach. There is something very weird and uncanny about the softly lapping waves—we long to see them laughing again in the sunshine. Now for a good “rub down,” a cup of steaming coffee, and a long sleep under the stars—feeling that after all life has its moments, though they may be few and far between. Hurrah for the holidays!
“As for me, I love the sea, the dear old sea, don't you?”
Your Tennis Frocks
Just a few words about your tennis “rig” for the summer. Materials are very cheap this season, and we can all have dozens of frocks. Make them as plain and as comfortable as ever you can.
Don't attempt any frills or “effects”—nothing is more out of place and in worse taste. Remember that simplicity is the keynote of style for your tennis frock.
As for shoes and stockings—white, of course. You will find that heels on your tennis shoes will make that extra set possible, and that tennis “socks” save your feet wonderfully. Again I should advise you to have plain white—no coloured bands. A shield for your eyes will improve your game and will also keep back those annoying wisps of hair (even when it is shingled).
Of course it seems hardly necessary to say this—jewellery is quite out of the question on the courts. Yet I have seen, and not infrequently, pearls, vivid beads, and even ear-rings adorning the tennis girl. There are times for these, but this is certainly not one of them!
I think many of us can condescend to follow the example of men in our sports clothes—let them be simple and useful, designed for comfort and service, and at the same time attractive and smart by their very simplicity.
The tennis season is in full swing—so now is the time to consider your wardrobe!.
French Railway Improvements
Early in July the French State railways ran a train from Paris to Cherbourg, a distance of 230 miles, in the remarkable time of three hours and 23 minutes, including a five-minute stop at Caen (writes the Paris correspondent of the London “Times”). The average speed of this train for the whole distance was 69.6 miles an hour, excluding the five minutes spent at Caen. I understand that this run furnished useful data on which a considerable acceleration of the express passenger services will eventually be based.
The primary object of the run was to test the condition of the permanent way with a view to running the heavy boat-trains at higher speeds. The test train consisted of two or three coaches only, making a load of about 100 tons. It was hauled by a standard compound Pacific locomotive (4—6—2), weighing, with tender, 120 tons. The train carried instruments which measured the oscillation of the coaches at high speeds. From all this a complete chart of the run was obtained which showed the places where the permanent way would have to be strengthened or altered to allow higher speeds. The instruments also yielded data for the design of the new rolling stock which will be used in the high-speed trains.
The State railways hope to inaugurate their accelerated services in about two years. Special rolling stock and special locomotives are being designed. The new coaches will be all-steel, with special provision for stability. The locomotives will be of the “Mountain” type (4—8—2), which is already in use on the Nord and P.L.M. systems. They will be designed to haul a full load at an average speed of 60 miles an hour on the difficult Paris-Cherbourg route, with a maximum speed (limited by law) of 75 miles an hour. These trains will make the journey in four and a half hours instead of the present five hours.
The State railways are also experimenting with high-pressure locomotives such as those which are at present being developed in Great Britain. They have now under test a comparatively small locomotive of 800 h.p., with a boiler pressure of 900lb. to the square inch. This machine is being tested in comparison with larger locomotives of similar horse-power.
Canadian Oil-Electric Locomotive.
A successful run was recently made from Montreal to Toronto by the Canadian National Railways’ new oil-electric locomotive. This new type of locomotive, which generates electrical energy front fuel oil, reached a speed of 80 miles an hour, drawing a passenger train.
Wit And Humour
On the occasion of a Flag Day in Aberdeen there was a great exodus from the city. Thirteen passengers were in one compartment of an outward-bound train, and being superstitious, they decided to toss a sixpence in order to determine which one should leave the carriage at the next stop. While tossing the sixpence it unfortunately fell out of the window, with the result that the thirteen passengers were killed by a train coming from the opposite direction.
* * *
Son: “Dad, let's buy a new car?”
Dad: “Wait till I've had a ride in the old one, will you.”
* * *
No Joy-Ride.
“Hullo, Rangi; taking a holiday?” “No, takin' t' missus.”
“Now, Mary, when you bathe the baby, be sure and use the thermometer to test the water.”
Returning an hour later, the mistress asked: “Did you use the thermometer?”
“No, ma'am. I can tell without that. If it's too hot, the baby turns red, and if it's too cold, he'll turn blue.”
* * *
A student failed in all five subjects he took. He telegraphed to a brother: “Failed in five. Prepare papa.” The brother telegraphed back: “Papa prepared; prepare yourself.”
* * *
Jones (addressing neighbour's fowls): “Now, which seeds would you like first? I've got nasturtiums, sweet peas, broad beans, gladioli, and calceolarias.”
“Have you ever been in a railway accident?”
“By jove, rather. I remember one day when I went through a tunnel and kissed the father instead of the daughter.”
* * *
Whilst lunching in the Louis XVIth. restaurant car of the “Flying Scotsman” recently, the following conversation took place:—
Well-meaning male companion: “Do you realise you are travelling on a most historic and world-famous train? This train is 66 years old.”
Lady: “I think it is in remarkably good condition.”
* * *
American (at Scottish football game): “Why don't they start? They ought to have kicked off half an hour ago.”
Scotsman: “Aye, something serious has happened.”
American “Not a player taken off ill?”
Scotsman: “No, worse than that. They canna find the penny they tossed up with.”
* * *
“Why, dad, this is roast beef,” exclaimed Willie at dinner one evening, when a guest of honour was present.
“Of course,” said his father. “What of that?”
“Why, you told mother this morning that you were going to bring an old mutton-head home for dinner.”
By Those Who Like Us
From the Secretary, The National Dairy Association of New Zealand, to the General Manager of Railways, Wellington:—
At a meeting of my Directors held recently, I was instructed to write thanking you and your staff for the satisfactory arrangements made in providing special train accommodation for our delegates who attended the Association's annual conference at Whangarei last month.
I would like to state that, not only was a special train arranged from Auckland to Whangarei, but also from Dargaville to Aranga. In the running of this latter train provision was made whereby the train was stopped at various places to give our delegates an opportunity of gaining a better knowledge of the country in the North, and also of taking various interesting photographs. The service was very much appreciated.
* * *
From Mr. R. F. Baird, Napier, to the General Manager of Railways, Wellington:—
I would like to express to you the thanks of Mrs. Baird and self to the members of the Railway Service connected with the Napier-Wellington train and those stations for the great kindness shown Mrs. Baird's mother and her nurse when they travelled recently to Wellington.
Mrs. Baird's mother is an invalid, and it was no mean task to shift her, but the nurse has written that she suffered no inconvenience whatsoever, and actually enjoyed the trip.
Everything that could be foreseen to lighten the difficulties was done by he Stationmaster, Foreman and others at Napier, and the nurse says that the whole way down, and at Wellington, every possible kindness and courtesy that could be conceived was shown by the Railway employees. The nurse had had many years of experience in English military hospitals and I am not without experience of being a cot case on a train, and when we were both struck by the ability as well as the care shown, it says much for the consideration received.
* * *
From Abraham and Williams Ltd., auctioneers, Taumarunui, to the Stationmaster, Taumarunui:—
We desire to express to those of your staff who were responsible, our sincere appreciation of the excellent manner in which the arrangements for the despatch of stock were executed on the occasion of our Ewe Fair.
We can safely say that we could not wish for better service than was rendered by your staff on this occasion.
While we hesitate to mention individuals in particular, not knowing all who were responsible, we are particularly grateful to your Transport Officer, Mr. Coleman, for the earnest attention he gave to our requirements.
The fact that 116 trucks of sheep ex the Ewe Fair alone were loaded and despatched within twenty-four hours is testimony of the excellent work done under conditions which could not be considered of the best.
* * *
From Anderson's Ltd., Christchurch, to the Editor, “New Zealand Railways Magazine,” Wellington:—
We should like to put on record our appreciation of the excellent service rendered by the Railway Department in assisting us recently to despatch from Auckland to Hamilton some very heavy machinery that was required urgently. It was very wet at the time, and, but for the assistance given us by the Railway Transport Department and, in particular, the representative on the Auckland wharves, serious delays must have occurred.
Exactly the same applies to Frankton Junction and Hamilton, and, had we not received the co-operation from the staffs at these two centres also, we would have been put to very considerable inconvenience.
Express Speeds Eighty Years Ago.
In an interesting letter dealing with the high speeds attained by British express trains in the ‘fifties, a correspondent writes in a recent issue of the London Times as follows:—
“In the year 1848 one of the G.W.R. London-to-Bristol expresses was booked to leave Paddington at 9.50 a.m. and to arrive at Didcot at 10.47 a.m., thus allowing 57 minutes for running the 53 miles, but this stage was frequently run in 47 to 48 minutes. In the records of the late Mr. Rous-Marten, who was one of the most experienced and reliable timing experts of railway speeds, some particulars are given of a run he made with one of the semi-expresses between Paddington and Reading in the year 1856. The train consisted of nine carriages and was hauled by the engine Crimea, which was one of the famous broad-gauge 8ft. single-wheel engines. The distance of 18½ miles from Paddington to Slough was run in 22 minutes. Four carriages were taken off at Slough, and the 17½ miles from there to Reading were covered in 17in. 22sec. As regards the run from Slough to Reading, allowing three minutes for running the first two miles, by which time a speed of about 70 miles an hour had to be reached, and allowing 2½min, for running the last 1½ mile, the intermediate 14 miles had to be covered in 11min. 52sec.—that is at an average speed of over 72 miles an hour.
The Dawn Of The Railway.
Under the heading “The Dawn of the Railway,” we published, in our October issue, a letter giving the impressions of an eye-witness (John Dixon) of the famous Rainhill trials of a century ago. Another letter worthy of reproduction was that written by Thomas Creevey (an opponent of the railway). Writing from Knowsley to Miss Ord, on 14th November, 1829, he said:—
“To-day we have had a lark of a very high order. Lady Wilton sent over yesterday from Knowsley to say that the Loco Motive machine was to be on the railway at such a place for the Knowsley party to ride in…. I had the satisfaction of taking a trip of five miles which we did in just a quarter of an hour, that is 20 miles an hour…. The machine was occasionally made to put itself out, or go it, and then we went at the rate of 23 miles an hour and with the same ease as to motion or absence of friction…. But the quickest motion is to me frightful, it is really flying…. It gave me a headache which has not left me yet. Sefton is convinced that some damnable thing must come of it… Altogether I am extremely glad to have seen the miracle and to have travelled in it.”
Current Comments
A pleasing feature of railway business in New Zealand for the current year is that, up to date, an increase of 175,000 tons in goods traffic has been recorded.
* * *
The reorganised timetable between Christ-church and Greymouth providing for the night running of goods trains was brought into operation on 16th September. The Divisional Superintendent reports that the timetable is proving satisfactory to the majority of our clients. It has speeded up the transit of goods between the East Coast and West Coast. This is particularly noticeable with goods from the West Coast. Goods loaded at West Coast stations on any one day are available for discharge in Christchurch the following day. Special arrangements were made for long distance traffic for South to connect with the 11 p.m. Christchurch-Invercargill through goods train.
* * *
It is the bounden duty of all citizens of New Zealand to do all they can to support their own national property—the country's railways (says The New Zealander). They render good and cheap service, and the whole community should feel grateful. Last year the railways of New Zealand performed services which saved the country £18,000,000 had they been done by road. We stress that point very strongly. Every citizen should study the fact, and learn what it means. We repeat it:—“The year's goods freight of 7,366,762 tons, which cost less than £5,000,000 to transport by rail, would have cost at least £23,000,000 to transport by road.”
* * *
Kowloon, in China, may soon be linked by rail with Calais, France, to make the world's longest railway track. The task of completing the 240 miles of railway on the Canton-Hankow route will occupy five years of work. In 1905 the Peking-Hankow line was completed, and later railway tracks were constructed south of Hankow and north of Canton. The final stretch will complete the chain of track from Calais to South China, to make the world's longest railway.
* * *
One of the most important moves recently made is the taking over jointly, of a bus undertaking known as United Automobile Services, by the London and North Eastern Railway and an important firm of road carriers. The United Services cover an area in Eastern England extending from London to the Scottish Border, and embracing 2,000 route miles. The new combination will operate something like 2,000 passenger buses, and will form one of the most powerful road transport groups in Britain. What has been done by the L. and N.E. Railway in this instance is being accomplished in other parts of the Homeland by the L.M. and S. and Great Western Railways, and combinations of this character are going far to solve the once vexed problem of rail versus road.
* * *
The new 4-8-2 + 2-8-4 Beyer-Garratt locomotive for the South African Government Railways is, in point of maximum weight in working, the largest in the world as yet constructed to run on the 3ft. 6in. gauge. With an estimated tractive effort at 75 per cent, of the boiler pressure of no less than 78,650lbs. (states The Railway Gazette), the engine must take pride of place as the most powerful so far built in any country outside the United States. The design practically represents the maximum which can be accommodated on the 80lbs. permanent way, and within the limits of the track and loading gauges which form the South African main line standards. The engine develops a 48 per cent, greater tractive effort than the hitherto largest engine in the service on this system.
Promotions Recorded During October
Division I
Brown, W., to Yard Foreman, Gr. 5, Lyttelton.
Carleton, C. T., to Clerk, Gr. 6, Central Booking Office, Wellington.
Chesterman, W. O., to Ticket Inspector, Gr. 5, Dunedin.
Carrel, V. S., to Reclaim and Yard Foreman, Gr. 6, Otahuhu.
Connolly, A. E., to Clerk, Relief, Gr. 6, District Traffic Manager's Office, Ohakune.
Cornish, J., to Road Foreman, Gr. 5, Wellington.
Cassey, W. H., to Station Clerk, Gr. 5, Picton.
Daly, J. P., to Shift Clerk, Gr. 6, Addington.
De Vere, L., to Erecting Shop Foreman, Gr. 3, Hillside.
Dripps, J., to Locomotive Foreman, Gr. 3, Invercargill.
Foster, A. G., to Loco. Foreman, Gr. 4, Napier.
Gallagher, M. J., to Signal and Electric Lines Inspector, Gr. 5, Greymouth.
Hayles, A., to Assistant Relieving Officer, Gr. 6, Wellington.
Huse, F. C. G. Audit Inspector, North Island, Gr. 3, Headquarters Frankton Junction.
Moore, G. R., to Staff and Accounts Clerk, Gr. 6, District Traffic Manager's Office, Ohakune.
McLaren, S. G., to Stationmaster, Gr. 6, Waitoa.
McCorkindale, H., to Reclaim and Yard Foreman, Gr. 6, Hillside.
O'Sullivan, L. M., to Booking Clerk, Gr. 6, Timaru.
Robson, F. G., to Traction and Power Construction Assistant, Gr. 4, Wellington.
Round, D. C., to Sub-Foreman, Gr. 6, Hutt.
Richardson, W. T., to Sub-Foreman, Gr. 6, Otahuhu.
Shand, G. P., to Sub-Foreman, Gr. 6, Hutt.
Stevens, A. M., to Sub-Foreman, Gr. 6, Hillside, side.
Williams, F. W., to Shift Clerk, Gr. 6, Taumarunui.
Wilson, J. C., to Passenger Foreman, Gr. 6, Lyttelton.
Division Ii.
Shunter to Guard.
Radford, G. H., to Westport.
Porter to Shunter.
Grantham, M. W., to Invercargill Goods.
Signalman Gr. 2 to Signalman Gr. 1.
Diebert, R. P., to Signalman, Relief, Christchurch.
Locomotive Branch.
Fitter to Leading Fitter.
Valentine, A. E., to Palmerston North.
Skilled Labourer to Holder-up.
Mallett, T. F., to Westport.
Holder-up to Crane Driver.
Ward, N. V., to Westport.
Skilled Labourer to Iron Machinist, Gr. 2.
Shanks, W. J., to Addington.
Labourer to Skilled Labourer.
Sinclair, A. H., to Hillside.
Skilled Labourer to Fettler.
Smith, J. L., to Hillside.
Labourer to Lifter, Gr. 2.
Kinder, I., to East Town.
Woodworking Machinist to Leading Woodworking Machinist.
Yanko, T. A., to Otahuhu.
Maintenance Branch.
Surfaceman to Ganger.
Simonsen, W., to Athol.
Automatic Signal Maintainers to Special Grade Automatic Signal Maintainers.
Gibens, F. W. G., to Darfield.
Robb, W. P., to Whangarei.
Electrician to Special Grade Automatic Signal Maintainer.
Bestic, A. J. P., to Dunedin.
Storeman to Signal Adjuster.
Dougherty, H., to Newmarket.
Labourer to Bridgeman.
Nankivell, J. R. C., to Penrose Junction.
Electric Line Erector to Electric Lineman.
Fleming, R., to Christchurch.
Suggestions And Inventions.
Quaife, F. W. G., Guard, Kurow.—Suggestion re issue of special excursion tickets between Awakino Dam Hydro Works and Oamaru.
O'Loughlin, J., Porter, Stillwater.—Suggestion that telephones at North and South ends of main line platform at Stillwater be transferred to the goods department posts.
O'Kane, B. A., Tablet Porter, Pukakanui.—Suggestion that portable telephones be provided in guards’ vans of certain trains.
King, T. E. H., Clerk, D.T.M.O., Christchurch. Commended and awarded bonus of £2 for his suggestion re issuing paint for points’ levers.
Delany, R. A., Carpenter, Hutt.—Commended and awarded bonus of £5 for his suggestion re alterations to standard racks.
Hillside Workshops’ Concert Orchestra.
Back row (left to right)—B. Stokes, violin; R. Wallace, conductor; F. Hill, violin; A. S. Cauldwell, violin. Front row—A. Reid, flute; S. B. Barltrop, clarionet, secretary; A. J. Bell, clarionet, treasurer; A. Croy, drums; C. J. Graham, president; J. Mathieson, cornet; J. Morris, cornet; J. Marshall, trombone; A. Geddes, violin, Absent: L. Wylie, clarionet; Miss A. Wilson, pianist.
On 11th September last the new Social Hall at Hillside Workshops, beautifully decorated with greenery and streamers, interwoven with coloured festoons, presented a most pleasing scene—the occasion being the first annual ball held by the Workshops,” Staff. The function, which was marked by a spirit of intense joyousness throughout, was organised by the Committee of the Workshops’ Concert Orchestra, assisted by Mr. S. B. Barltrop (as Secretary) and members of the Refreshment Branch, who splendidly managed the catering arrangements. It was one of the most successful functions ever held in the new Social Hall.