Does this apply to New Zealand?
In speaking about British Overseas Trade, the Prince of Wales remarked:— “I am sorry to say that, as a nation, we are very behind some as regards advertising. We are not sufficiently prone to blow our own trumpet. Our foreign competitors advertise a great deal.”
The New Zealand
Railways
Magazine
Railways
Magazine
Registered for transmission by Post as a Newspaper.
Published by the
New Zealand Government Railways Department
“
For Better Service.”
Service Copy.Vol. 6. No. 4.
Wellington,
New Zealand
September1, 1931.
Mr. Goodseat
Those who, in their search after strange gods, have been overlooking the manifold advantages of train travel, will welcome the stories which “Mr. Goodseat,” the latest character in railway advertising in this country, has to say regarding the better way to get about.
He is a man of wide experience, like the Tramp Royal in Kipling's “Sestina,” who “has turned his hand to most … in various situations round the world …. and found them good,” and this knowledge he is now placing at the disposal of the general public to help them in their journeyings.
“Mr. Goodseat” is a well-grown, cheerful human being, who does not like to be cramped. So his vote goes to the train, which provides him with a seat all to himself, where there is plenty of room for his legs and elbows. He has recollections of trips he has made by other means of transport where, crowded together at the start, and unable to change position freely for fear of disturbing the rest, he and his companions have had to be “shaken down” as the journey proceeded into a kind of conglomerate of humanity that never reached journey's end without a sigh of relief to be well rid of a trying time.
In any case he is not a good sitter—even a long sermon makes him fidgety—and he rejoices in the chance he has on the train to get up whenever the fit takes him and stroll along the corridor either to see a pal in another car or purely for the pleasure of stretching his legs. Of course, on our trains he can have a drink of filtered water whenever he likes, using a new paper cup supplied each time for the purpose. Or he can admire himself in the looking-glass, comb his hair before it, and appear as spick and span as he pleases at any stage of the run. None of these things can be done on a service car, and so “Mr. Goodseat” (who has quite a liking for himself as well as for his friends) again casts his kindly eye towards the train whenever travel is mentioned.
As he is a good business-man with sound ideas of values, he holds his own physical well-being in high regard. Hence the wonderful safety record of the N.Z. Railways, which have run during nearly six years without one fatality amongst the 150 million passengers, appeals to his commonsense as something not found in road travel and he scores gleefully another mark for the railways and one for himself as well.
His particular pleasure it is to take a hand in the announcement of new low rates of fare for train travel. When his surplus cash runs low, a saving of four or five shillings in the pound for fares is a
The campaign for more business on all passenger trains is one in which every friend of the railways can help, and railwaymen as well as others will be glad to have the active assistance of every well-wisher in endeavouring to have each of the good seats supplied upon the trains well filled with contented passengers.
A Tribute to the Railways.
Writing recently to the General Manager of Railways, Mr. H. H. Sterling, Mr. A. H. Wood, Te Aroha, makes the following appreciative reference to the New Zealand Railways and to members of the operating staff:—
After an absence of thirteen years from New Zealand, it is most interesting to note the wonderful changes and improvements that have taken place on the New Zealand Railways. The splendid and up-to-date type of ‘sleepers’ on the expresses would do credit to any country. Also, the running time of the ‘Limited’ is absolutely wonderful, taking into consideration the gauge, grades, curves, etc…. One really has a feeling that one is a welcome guest when travelling on the New Zealand Railways….
The guards are a splendid body of men, and their unfailing courtesy and patience while dealing with the public is beyond all praise…. . The careful handling of the trains by the enginemen, too, adds to the comfort of the passengers, and calls for special mention. Indeed the men of the engine service of the New Zealand Railways are second to none.
Heating of Railway Carriages.
“I am pleased at the facilities for heating which are provided on the New Zealand Railways,” stated Mr. T. C. Davis, manager of the Australian Rugby team, on arrival in Christchurch from Invercargill recently (says the Christchurch Times), “We felt warm all the journey, and had only to manipulate a handle to control the amount of heat. We have foot-warmers in the carriages in Australia, but they soon get cold.”
A New Kind of “Railway Supply” Store.
Arrangements have been made by one of the best known stores in Wellington to operate a Special Mail Order Department for the benefit of Railwaymen throughout New Zealand. This service is an opportune one following on the universal need for individual economy.
“Railway Supplies Department,” as this new service will be known, is a special department of Messrs. George and Doughty, Ltd., Wellington, created to supply drapery, clothing and footwear needs for Railwaymen and their families, at prices that are claimed to be appreciably lower than anything offered by other stores.
Two special features of this “Railway Supplies Department” are, firstly, an unconditional guarantee of absolute satisfaction or money refunded in full; secondly, that all goods are despatched within an hour of receipt of the order—thus ensuring no delay in delivery.
Further, all goods may be returned if unsatisfactory, though this is likely to be a rare occurrence, as the proposition has been thoroughly investigated, and the originators are certain of the satisfaction which will ensue.
We hope all Railwaymen will give consideration to this venture, which is well advertised in the current issue of the Magazine.
Direct support given by our own staff to any advertisers in this publication helps to make the Magazine more appreciated in the advertising field, and this again helps to extend the scope of the Magazine for railway publicity purposes, in which it is recognised to be doing good work for the whole service.
General Manager's Message
A matter of outstanding importance affecting the public in their association with the railways is the decision which was recently announced by the Government Railways Board to make a reduction in ordinary fares by rail. The reduction is a substantial one and represents a lead by the Government Railways Board in the direction of reducing costs. It is realised on all hands that an essential factor in the solution of the present economic difficulties is reduction of costs and it is to be hoped that the lead given by the Board in this direction will have the effect of increasing the rate of reduction of costs all round. The Board fully realised the important issues that were involved in its action and it came to its decision in the confident belief that the public generally will appreciate its action and that that appreciation will be manifested by an increased use of the railways for passenger travel. The justification of the Board's action lies with the public and the Board confidently appeals to the public to respond to the Board's endeavour to provide comfortable travel at bedrock prices by affording the Railway Department their patronage and thus enabling the Board to maintain fares at the lowest possible level.
In connection with the internal working of the Department important decisions affecting the staff have also been made by the Board. These decisions involved some alteration of working conditions as well as the retirement of some of the staff. The Board gave the whole matter most anxious consideration before the decisions were arrived at. Every business management is loath to interfere with the working conditions of the staff or to have to pay off employees. Having regard to the condition of the Department's business, however, the Board felt that no option was really left to it and that unless something was done along the lines of the decisions there was likely to be a reactive effect to the detriment of the staff generally. The matter of reducing staff was the cause of particular anxiety to the Board. It was imperative that something should be done to adjust the staff more nearly to the requirements of the business and the Board believes that the principles which it has laid down in that connection will permit of the adjustment being made in a way that will cause the minimum of hardship. The Board has appreciated the attitude of the employees generally in the very difficult position which has arisen and it desires to assure them of its sincere desire to avoid hardship and to make it known that any suggestion that may be submitted to the Board having that end in view will receive the most sympathetic consideration.
General Manager.
Oman Heany
“In the dead vast and middle of the night.”—Shakespeare.
The railways have their gipsy bands, who travel far by caravan. Up hill and down dale their long road leads, now this way and now that, pausing where the wind blows freely over wide, empty lands, where streams wind through the green, and where sheep climb over the horizon and are swallowed by the sky. Wherever the smoking gipsy huts are resting there is a constant ring of iron and steel, strange lights and strange noises. Behind them, when they are gone, is left a double row of shining lengths of metal, in replacement of a worn-out irail.
The gipsy bands of the New Zealand Railways are the relaying gangs whose duty is to maintain the permanent way, replacing over many miles of track any weak links that the lynx-eyed engineers or inspectors have discerned, keeping the pathways of the country's trains firm and true and strong. Now they are in one place, now in another, but moved always by necessity and not by the gipsy whim. They follow hard on the heels of rust, age and decay, and hound down those enemies to their hiding places. And since rust itself is a gipsy thing, it leads them a gipsy life that no Romany knew.
There are limits to roaming, however, and system has divided New Zealand into railway districts. The Wanganui district, for instance, comprises that territory between New Plymouth and Paraparaumu, taking in also branch lines. Outside of this area another district begins, and so on. The platelayers, or relaying gangs as they are also called, must of course stay where their job is until completed, and so they take their huts with them. These are the small, rail cabins that are to be seen on many railway sidings at different stations, and which remain the homes of the platelayers, except on those occasions when a week-end trip to their real homes can be made.
Any faulty portions of the permanent way are condemned by qualified officers, who make periodical surveys of the track. Wagon loads of new rails and sleepers are then dispatched to the scene where the work is to be performed, and these materials are distributed at convenient intervals alongside the track. In due course the platelayers, comprising any number of men up to about fourteen, arrive at the nearest siding, and there they group their caravans. The men, with their materials, then go on trolleys to the nearest pile of new rails and sleepers and prepare for the change-over.
Preliminary work involves the straightening or curving of any crooked rails, and
What follows is similar to the effect on the motion-picture screen of speeding up the camera. The bolts attaching the rails to the sleepers are unscrewed, the rails torn up, and the sleepers after them. The new sleepers are laid, the new rails super-added, the sleepers bored, the rails spiked firmly to the correct gauge, and the track packed up. Next comes the ballast train, which distributes ballast over the rails and sleepers, and this is spread out smoothly by a plough van at the rear of the train. (In passing, it is to be noted that this ballast plough was designed over forty years ago by the late Mr. J. Smith, of Christchurch, an officer of the New Zealand Railways Department who was awarded a bonus of £50 per annum. The system has been copied by other countries.) When the ballast has been laid, the lifting gang make their appearance, and by placing jacks under the sleepers they pack them up from underneath. The ballast train then smooths off the metal again with a rake.
The driver of an approaching train is prepared for what awaits him round the next curve, since intimation of the relaying work in progress on the track has been broadcast from the central train control office for all engine-drivers passing that way. Accordingly the driver slows down. If the gang has been unable to complete the “break” in time, a disc signal confronts the driver at a distance of 800 yards from the scene of operations, from whichever end he comes. Not only that, but there are three detonators waiting on the line at intervals of ten yards each before reaching the disc signal, so that the progress of the train is bound to be accompanied by warning explosions. Other detonators are situated each 100 yards over the remaining 800 yards. If the work has been finished there is no disc signal and no detonators, and the driver proceeds over the new line guided by instructions and permanent speed board, negotiating the re-laid track. A new “break” is made, and repeated by the relaying gang until the condemned portion has been replaced.
This work of replacement, performed with judgment between trains so as not to dislocate schedules, has been reduced to a fine art, and while it is in progress every care is taken in the interests of the travelling public, in regard to safety measures, from the time that the first break is made to the time when the final bolt is screwed and the line declared again safe and sound. Now the relaying gang is in one place and now in a spot perhaps many miles distant, snatching their moments as the trains go by, like pirates hurriedly depositing their silvery bars in gulleys and cuttings and covert places, before the unerring trains ferret them out.
Other duties of the platelayers include the relaying of station yards and laying points and crossings. A big job undertaken recently was the change-over from the old Otaki railway bridge to the new.
The new structure, erected by a special bridge gang, was in readiness at 8–50 a.m., at which time Field's express from Palmerston North passed over en route to Wellington. As soon as she had gone the platelayers and surfacemen combined, numbering fourteen, set about linking up with the new bridge. They had already laid the new rails on the latter, but they had only one hour and twenty minutes in which to break the line, pull over 542 feet of track to meet the rails on the new bridge, join it up, and make it safe for the passage of a train. That may not sound a great deal on paper, but in reality it is no small matter, even for fourteen
The first cousins to the platelaying gangs are the surfacemen, who follow up their work and add the finishing touches. When a new line is laid it at once falls into the zealous care of the surfacemen, who tend it as they tend daily every inch of railway line in New Zealand. These are the far-flung men that the travelling public see but in a flash, standing by the rails as the trains pass. But a great deal depends on their work, which is an important cog in the extraordinarily complete organisation that is the railway system of this country.
The permanent way, throughout the Dominion, is divided into sections of from 5 1/2 to 8 miles, to each of which there is a ganger and three surfacemen. Their daily
A Familiar Scene Along The Iron Way.
(Rly. Publicity photo.)
Typical huts occupied by permanent way men on the New Zealand Railways.
Water, because of the disturbing effect it has on the level of the line, is the enemy of all surfacemen, particularly in places like the Manawatu Gorge, where considerable quantities of water come down from the hills. It is when a slip occurs in the Gorge that work there becomes arduous, and instead of just water and grass to be removed there are tons of debris instead.
Two members of a gang of four live at either end of a section, and each morning they come together from opposite directions on their jiggers to the point where their work the day before ceased. Each gang working in similar fashion, the remarkable result is that the whole of the permanent way between Auckland and Wellington—426 miles—–is inspected daily between 7 a.m. and fifty minutes afterwards. On top of that, the men in charge of the gangs make a special inspection of their sections every Saturday. In addition, there are trips made by the inspectors of the permanent way and engineers, so that nothing is left to chance.
After Forty Years
Retirement of Chief Engineer.
Mr. F. C. Widdop Farewelled.
“The fact that they were running fast passenger trains in the dead of night without accident” said Mr. H. H. Sterling, General Manager of Railways at Mr. Widdop's farewell, “was a tribute to the Maintenance Branch (and its head, Mr. Widdop) which, in regard to the safety of the public, left nothing to chance.”
(Rly. Publicity Photo.)
Mr. F. C. Widdop.
A long list of big jobs has been in the charge of Mr. F. C. Widdop, Chief Engineer of the New Zealand Railways, who retired on 2nd September, on the completion of forty years service. The Tawa Flat deviation, which he initiated, and all the other railway facilities and expansions that this completed project will mean, is only one of many large undertakings, such as the Railway Workshops, Auckland station, the reconstruction of many bridges, and the acquisition of the land and development of the Eastern Hutt Valley scheme, which have been carried out under his supervision. There was a gathering of the executive heads of all departments in the Railway Board's room to bid him farewell, the General Manager (Mr. H. H. Sterling) presiding.
Mr. Sterling said that after forty years of service Mr. Widdop was leaving with a record to his credit, one that earned their entire admiration. As a railway officer they had learned to appreciate his ability, thoroughness, and team work, without which latter quality many other qualifications were often nullified. When inevitable differences arose, his invariable good temper was such that they were ironed out in a manner that took the sting out of the disagreements. His record with the service dated from boyhood, and he had grown up with it and passed through the various grades to his present position, which must leave him with a fund of experience and knowledge, and with happy memories that would stand to him in the years to come. He had spent thirteen months in the Locomotive Superintendent's office, and then threw his lot in with the civil engineering side.
In the course of his work Mr. Widdop had been associated with works of great importance. He understood that in co-operation with the District Engineer he was responsible for the construction of the Greymouth wharves as they were to-day. What would no doubt be the greatest monument to his memory was that his was practically the inception of the present big scheme for extended railway facilities at Wellington, now in course of fruition. As General Manager, he greatly appreciated the great help, very loyal assistance, and sound judgment he had had from Mr. Widdop. The time had been a strenuous one, with a tremendous programme of work, and the greater portion of
Mr. Sterling also spoke in high terms of Mr. Widdop's helpful association with his staff, and of his life in general, which was an example of what the lives of the heads of branches should be.
Mr. Widdop said that he had always endeavoured to do his best, and felt that he had earned his rest. He would always look back to his connection with the railway service with great pleasure. He had joined the service in 1891 in the Locomotive Branch, at that time a very well organised office with rather a martinet as Chief Clerk. Everyone had to learn shorthand and had to write well, and if a man was a bad writer he had to produce a copybook to the Chief Clerk every morning. That training he owed much to. Later he transferred into the Civil Engineering Branch, then under the charge of Mr. J. H. Low. In the drawing office there were only Messrs. Troup, Bezant, Jones and himself. Since then he had served at various periods throughout New Zealand.
He had seen the railway service grow from a small thing to a big one. When he had joined in 1891 the total revenue was a little over £1,000,000, and the annual expenditure £706,000. Last year the revenue was £8,000,000 and the expenditure £7,000,000. Then there were 1869 miles of track; now there were 3399 miles. The expenditure on maintenance in 1891–92 was £245,000; in 1930 it was £1,800,000. In the early ‘nineties things were bad, and they had to get down to bedrock and use scraps of metal and odds and ends of paint. The present times were similar, but the railways would win out.
It was true that the standard of track maintenance in New Zealand was very high, but that was largely due to the intelligence and education possessed by the men. He had seen the railway bridge problems transferred from the timber to the steel age. New Zealand had now fifty-four miles of bridges of all descriptions, and a good deal of solid work had been necessary in connection with the unavoidable reconstruction programme being carried out. The railways, with the completion of the Tawa Flat job, would have over thirty miles of tunnels. He would feel severing his connection with the department.
Presenting Mr. Widdop with a lamp stand and shade and a travelling rug on behalf of the staff, Mr. Sterling wished Mr. and Mrs. Widdop many happy years of retirement.
Thanking them, Mr. Widdop said that he looked on Mrs. Widdop as a railwayman as well, as she was a daughter of Mr. W. M. Hannay, one of the early Railway Commissioners.
A Budding Engineer.
Master Jack Matheson, son of Mr. J. T. Matheson, enginedriver, Wanganui.
Wit And Humour
A childless married couple in Ireland adopted an orphaned three months old German baby. Then they took a correspondence course in German so that they would be ready to understand the child when it started to talk.
* * *
Murphy: “What's that in your pocket?”
Pat (in whisper): “Dynamite. I'm waiting for Casey. Every time he meets me he slaps me on the chest and breaks me pipe. Next time he does it, he'll blow his hand off.”
* * *
“I say, Bill,” said a bricklayer to his mate, “what's a cosmopolitan?”
“Well,” was the careful reply, “if there was a Russian Jew living in Scotland with an Italian wife smoking Turkish cigarettes at a French window, in a room with a Persian carpet and a German band was playing ‘The dear little Shamrock’ after a supper of Dutch cheese made into a Welsh rabbit, you'd be quite safe in saying that chap was a cosmopolitan!”
* * *
Chubitt: “Do you believe in the doctrine of reincarnation?”
Dubitt: “There must be something in it, my boy. I know a woman of thirty who distinctly remembers things that happened forty years ago.”
Boss: “Mike, I'm going to make you a present of a pig.”
Mike: “Sure, an' ‘tis just like you, sor!”
* * *
“What did you give baby for his first birthday?”
“We opened his money-box and bought the little darling a lovely electric iron.”
* * *
“What's the matter, Sandy? You're looking worried.”
“Hey, mon, ma wife lost her diamond ring in the dustbin this morning, and I've been down in the dumps all day.”
A Fare Go!
“Hello Donald—travelling on business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure laddie, pleasure, wi' a twenty per cent, reduction in fares.”
By)
Tangiwai .It is not too early to begin thinking about the methods of celebrating New Zealand's centenary as a British country, which comes round in a little over eight years' time. The present period of financial stress will pass, we are surely due for a cycle of prosperity before 1940. Ways and means will be found; there need be no hesitation about that. Auckland city, through the Mayor, has already put forward for consideration a tentative scheme for a week's historical pageant illustrating the pioneer history of the colony and Auckland in particular. This programme appeals greatly to the imagination. It is proposed to reproduce scenes that live in our history—the early contact of pakeha and Maori in peace and war, the coming of the pioneer ships, the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi, some of the stirring episodes of the wars, the old-time regiments, the picturesque Maori life of the days when New Zealand was young.
There is a vast amount of work in the preparation of such a moving pageant, and it will require much money, but Auckland will be equal to it, and if it is gone about in the manner in which a great film company produces its best work it will be an enormous attraction to the Dominion's people. It will, too, attract visitors from overseas, and it should be devised largely with that end in view. It will pay, there is no doubt about that.
So, too, with the Centenary Exhibition which it is suggested should be held in Wellington. Our Capital City certainly is entitled to its turn of such an exhibition, epitomising the progress of a century of endeavour and the production, wealth, novelty, and beauty of our land. It is something big for which to plan; a great and fitting crown to our first hundred years as a civilised land.
This land of ours is studded everywhere with hills and rocks which carry like imperishable pegs curious bits of folk-lore, poetic tales of long ago. Here is an example out of many not previously recorded. There is a great grey rock in the heart of North Auckland, on which the beautiful place-name Taiamai is based. In Mr. Ludbrook's sheep-paddock, close to the township, of Ohaeawai, and about a quarter of a mile east from the hotel
tino, or exact spot from which the whole district took its name. The great rock he narrated, about a hundred and fifty years ago (six generations) became celebrated as the favourite haunt of a kukupa or pigeon remarkable for its size and its beauty. Forest then all grew around, with here and there clearings made for cultivations, and this rock in the forest attracted the beautiful kukupa, which often was seen resting and sunning itself and preening its irridescent plumage, and its pure white breast feathers.
The legend grew that this wood-pigeon was a bird of supernatural attributes; that it had come from some distant place, from the ocean, hence the name given it. Tai-a-mai, or borne from the sea. The local chief of that day, one Kaitara, rahui'd the bird; that is, he protected it, forbade anyone to molest it, and indeed none wished to, for all believed that it possessed a mana tapu, a sacred influence of its own. So it became a kind of tribal mascot. At last it vanished as mysteriously as it came; and the Maoris, finding that it appeared no more, transferred its name to this conspicuous rock, its onetime resting-place. A fragment of place-nomenclature this, quite unknown to the European residents of those parts. And, by the way, Taiamai is a name that does not appear on any of the maps of the district. It should be preserved, for it is a good name, and an easy vun to spell, as Mr. Sam Weller would have said.
Figures are hateful, some one said; out with statistics and let us have something more human. But there is something peculiarly charming about figures when they register one's big fish catch. I have seen a stolid silent Englishman break into transports of delight and utter quite ridiculous things and cut a ridiculous caper on the green at Taupo landing place when the largest rainbow trout in his basket registered just seventeen pounds on the scale.
I scarcely dare to think of the things he might have done had he emulated his compatriot, Mr. H. White-Wickham, of London, and hauled in a fish weighing just on 800lb. as that enthusiastic angler did last season. The fact that it was a mako shark and not a troutlet would not matter; it was caught with rod and line.
Eloquent to the lover of good fishing are some sea-sport statistics to hand from our Northland. During the last season, according to a report at the annual meeting of the Bay of Islands Swordfish and Mako Shark Club, held at Russell lately, the total number of big game fish caught was seventy-six. This number included a world's record mako, a shark of 798lb. caught by Mr. White-Wickham. The principal catches were: 41 mako sharks, average weight 248 3/4lb.; 20 swordfish, averaging 279lb.; 6 hammerhead sharks, 333lb. One thresher shark was also caught; it scaled 523lb.
These figures are only for the principal fishing-ground in the North,; there were catches of big fish also off Whangaroa and Whangarei.
From North Auckland a native friend learned in practical bush craft now and again sends me a note of interest concerning the trees and shrubs of our indigenous forests. He has gathered from his old people, and from his own experience, a mass of information about the medicinal value of many of our plants. Some of this is becoming generally known, such as the usefulness of the common koromiko (veronica), but there is a vast amount of lore on the subject quite a sealed book yet to our botanical chemists and medicine-makers.
A curious item from my correspondent concerns the neinei or dracophyllum, that tropic-looking slender tuft-tree with its trunk branched in candelabrum fashion and its long narrow grass-like leaves crowded in rosettes at the tips of the
neinei, says my North Auckland correspondent, is the sacred tree of Tawhaki, that heroic figure in Maori-Polynesian mythology who climbed to the upper heavens by a vine, or, as some say, by a spider's-thread, in search of his vanished wife. The heart of the tree, as seen by the Maori eye, shows Tawhaki in the act of ascending to the sky.
There are fanciful allusions to the legendary Tawhaki in the tree-lore of other parts of the country. Up in the Urewera Ranges once I was admiring the rich showering of crimson flowers on a large rata tree close to the track we were riding along. My Maori companions said, “Those blossoms are the blood of Tawhaki, in our old stories. When he was ascending to the tenth heaven by a magical vine, some of his blood fell and stained those forest trees. Also, we call the rata flowers the eyes of Tawhaki.”
The Railways And Deep-Sea Fishing.
(Photo, W. W. Stewart)
En route to the Bay of Islands. Auckland-Opua Express emerging from the Parnell Tunnel, near Auckland.
A large Mako Shark (weight 521lb.) caught recently by Mr. G. Ellis, near Cape Brett, Bay of Islands.
Reverting to the neinei, it is strange to see it growing close up to the ice of the Franz Josef and Fox glaciers; in fact it can be seen on the mountain side high above the glaciers, and a clump of these tuft trees makes a quite fantastic foreground for a picture of the wonderful pinnacles and the pure white down-slant of the iceflows. I think that South Westland region is the furthest south habitat of the dracophyllum family.
Personnel in Industry
Cannotvisualise what is to be done, but who has the ability to direct many others, and the willingness to be guided by his superior.
Advertising World.)
LondonLetter
Co-ordination of inland transport in its several forms is a topic to which much consideration is now being devoted throughout the world. More especially is attention being turned to the respective parts that should be played in national transportation schemes by railways and roads. At Home a special commission appointed by the Government two years ago to examine these questions has just issued its report, and this document—extending to some two hundred and forty pages—contains much of interest for railwaymen the world over. In his present contribution, our Special London Correspondent makes interesting reference to this report and reviews current railway developments in Britain and on the Continent.
“Whatever else may happen,” says the report of the British Government's Commission on the coordination of transport, “it is clear that the maintenance of an efficient railway system is a national necessity.” Difficulties at present facing the railways are ascribed to (1) continued depression in trade, especially in the “heavy” industries; and (2) the competition of the road carrier and privately-owned motor-car. The first-named is put as the most serious obstacle to railway prosperity, and it is noted that a return of industrial prosperity would speedily bring greatly increased business to the railways. Curiously enough, the Commission does not recommend the wholesale acquisition by railways of road carrying undertakings, being of the belief that the money could be better spent on suburban electrification in the neighbourhood of the big cities. It is suggested that railway passenger time-tables should be completely overhauled, and the fullest use made of the railway's capacity for speed in short and moderate distance journeys. Irritating restrictions associated with the issues of excursion tickets should be cut out; little used and unremunerative branch lines should be closed; a larger number of high capacity goods wagons should be introduced; and more containers should be employed for handling miscellaneous freight. Much heavy traffic at present moving by road should pass by railway, and there should be a pooling of resources at points where more than one railway company operates.
Many years ago the problem of rail-road co-ordination was met to some small degree by the haulage over the Home railways of stage coaches which, at either end of the rail journey, took to the road and covered considerable mileages as ordinary horse-drawn vehicles. Now-a-days the stage coach is unknown, but one Home railway, at any rate, is seeking to solve the time-worn problem of producing a practicable vehicle that can travel either on rail or road.
By the London, Midland and Scottish line there has just been introduced a novel railroad travel unit styled the “Ro-railer,” which in its appearance differs little from the conventional road motor coach. It seats 26 passengers, and its engine, developing a maximum horse-power of 120, is equipped with a supplementary gearbox giving increased speeds on long railway runs with lower engine speed. To enable the
A Flourishing Railway-Owned Hotel.
The Tregenna Castle Hotel of the Great Western Line in picturesque Cornwall.
In the infancy of the “Iron Way,” a railway was a carrying concern purely and simply. When he won fame with his Stockton and Darlington and Liverpool and Manchester Railway achievements, George Stephenson never visualised those undertakings engaging in any noteworthy activity beyond that of rail conveyance proper. To-day, however, subsidiary businesses conducted by the more progressive railways throughout the world rank as of immense importance. Many are in themselves highly profitable: almost all bring much grist to the railway mill.
Among the many outside activities of the Home railways that have proved to be well
A Gem Of British Ecclesiastical Architecture.
Durham Cathedral and Castle, on the route of the “Flying Scotsman.”
Two noteworthy projects of the Home railways in recent times have been the opening of the Gleneagles Hotel of the L.M. and S. Railway, in the heart of the Scottish Highlands; and the opening by the Great Western Railway of the super-sports hotel at the Devonshire beauty spot of Moretonhampstead. In Ireland, too, the railways have launched forth as hotel-owners with marked success, and much tourist business has been brought to Erin's Isle as a direct consequence of this enterprise.
Passenger carriages employed by the Home railways comprise some exceptionally comfortable stock, and additions are constantly being made to keep this stock up-to-date. By the L. and N.E. line, for example, new train sets recently have been introduced in the important express services between the northern industrial centres of Leeds and the Scottish cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow. The most important daily train in this service is the 8.55 a.m. Leeds to Glasgow, which arrives at Glasgow (264 miles distant) at 3.6 p.m., returning from Glasgow at 4.0 p.m., and reaching Leeds at 10.28 p.m., thus completing a daily round trip of 528 miles. Breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner are served en route. For this service an entirely new train set consists of eight cars, each 61ft. 6in. long, with a total weight of 274 tons. The vehicles, built in the railway shops at Doncaster, comprise a brake first, a semi-open first, a restaurant car third, an open car, two corridor thirds, a brake third, and a brake composite (first and
This train, like the “Flying Scotsman” of the same line, is exceedingly popular with business men. The “Flying Scotsman” weighs about 400 tons, and 360 passengers are carried. Both these trains have automatic couplings and Pullman vestibules, and in each case a further safety factor is provided in the complete elimination of gas, all the vehicles being electrically lighted and the whole of the cooking carried out by electricity. The L. and N.E. line, it may be noted, is a world pioneer in the provision of electric cooking for express trains, it actually having set our go-ahead American cousins a lead in this matter.
One usually pictures the railway system of the future as being formed of a network of electrically worked main-lines with innumerable road motor lines serving as feeders thereto. This is the direction in which most European railways are now moving, and in the main-line electrification field steady progress continues to be recorded. Austria already has some 500 route miles of track operated by electricity, and now comes
Behind The Scenes On The Home Railways.
The Main Booking Office, L.M. & S. Railway, Derby, England.
Single-phase alternating current of 15,000 volts is employed in Austria, and as alternating current is also used on the neighbouring railways of Germany and Switzerland, through working is a relatively simple affair. Some 300 miles of 55 k.v. overhead transmission lines connect the power stations with the railway substations, where the current is stepped down to 15 k.v. Thirteen different types of electric locomotives are utilised for train haulage, fast passenger locomotives being of the 2-6+6-2, 2-6-2, 2-8-2, and 0-4+4-0 types. Much of the route covered by the Austrian Government Railways is of a mountainous character, and immense demands are made upon locomotives. Serious restrictions on speed are imposed by the heavy grades existing, but the electric locomotives are able to haul much heavier loads than the steam machines formerly employed, at almost double the speed hitherto booked.
“
While here at home, in shining day. We round the sunny garden play…”—Robert Louis Stevenson.
Our Children's Gallery.—(1) Phyllis and Henry Smith (Wanganui); (2) Charles, Ray, David and Connie May (North Auckland); (3) Doris Haynes (Shannon); (4) Joan Barnes (Dunedin); (5) Audrey and Walter Hall (Wellington); (6) Leslie Charles Mayle (Raetihi); (7) Betty Marlow (Wanganui); (8) Billy Gray (Oamaru); (9) Robert Harrington (Waipukurau); (10) Trevor James Wadsworth (Waipara); (11) Colin Jones (Wanganui); (12) Ngaire Walker (Ngaio); (13) Agnes Clapp (Auckland), Rex Clapp (Wellington), Willie Clapp (Auckland), Patricia Clapp (Auckland) and Georgie Prattley (Paekakariki); (14) Tommy, Velma and Bobbie Read (Paekakariki).
Safety Education
The Human Element.Intelligence never exposes itself to undue or unnecessary physical risks, stupidity exposes itself—and pays the price. That, I think, is a brief summation of the reason back of safety education.
It is the part of intelligence to inculcate and foster a wholesome, reasoned, and controlled fear. Appreciation of risk and avoidance of exposure to risk are the part of the intelligent man. Time may have been when absolute fearlessness and blindness to danger were necessary. That must have been when man met blind and unknown dangers.
In this mechanical day such intrepidity is the part of stupidity. Hazards are largely predictable in the case of machine workers. The intelligent worker will, then, face the hazards, give them the thought, the caution, the fear that they merit and set his intelligence to the task of avoiding every possible risk. He will foster in every way his own training for safety, the safety of himself and of others.
Mechanical devices have been invented always with the idea of giving advantages to the intelligent—the intelligent, not the heedlessly brave.
This is, perhaps, but one of the major changes in emotional pattern that the new education demands of us. Attitude, emotional set, undoubtedly influences our reactions to new training. There is, for example, the man who venerates precedent. His father was a good engineer, let us say, and he sees no need for improvement upon methods used in his father's day. This without consideration of the fact that engines and traffic conditions have changed mightily since his father's day.
Precedent is an excellent thing and worthy of consideration, but if it is antedated it may become an unsafe guide. Because an expedient has served for twenty years or thirty years does not prove its worth if conditions to-day are not what they were in the past. This sort of close-mindedness is the enemy to safety training. It is not intelligent; it does not evaluate risks.
Here a word may be apropos about the worker's prevalent distrust of the “armchair critic,” the laboratory worker, the dealer in theories. This is natural. The man who does, feels superior to the man who thinks or talks. But, if it is natural it is also dangerous.
Advancement always begins as an idea, a theory. The theory may be the outcome of actual work—often is. But it may be the outcome of abstract thinking. At any rate, scorn and incredulity are not always intelligent. They may blind one to risks and to opportunities. The “smart guy who knows nothing about the job of the engineer” may possibly see some phase of that job which is lost to the man actually busy at its performance.
There is another mental attitude that essentially is inimical to safety training. It allows one to put the outcome of any project, any venture, on the knees of the gods, so to speak. It is the philosophy of “do your best and God will do the rest.” A relaxful philosophy, since it allows a broad loophole for escape from responsibility. The “do your best” is essential, and in these days of complicated living and frenzied moving it has to be mighty good. Anybody's best leaves an awful load for Providence.
And there is the matter of attitude towards responsibility to the public. In the matter of railroad employees, in particular, my own reaction is almost invariably with the trainman. The right of way is his; strength, force, and superiority are his. He ought to be respected and waited for. But he isn't. He is dealing, you see, with daredevil
There devolves upon his intelligence, then, the task of protecting not only himself, his company's interests and the manifold interests of the many involved, but, in addition, the safety and well being of the man who will not safeguard himself. A big task, and one that will not permit him to overlook even seemingly small contributions to its furtherance.
Safety education is re-education to those who are already trained and on the job, and re-education is a most difficult undertaking. Not only is it hard to shed old habits; it is hard even to want to shed them.
But that is the road of progress. We lay down the good to advance to the better. Mechanical ability has been on a high level for the past decade or two. But the increased complexity of life demands that it become still higher.—J. U. Yarborough Ph.D., in the Santa Fe Railways Magazine.)
Christchurch Railway Porters' Club, 1931
Photo. Coronation Studio, Christchurch.)
Back row: L. V. Etwell, M. Fleming, D. O. Buck, A. Bruce. Third row: C. F. Thomas, E. Collie, E. Calvert, V. C. Willyams, C. A. Chapman, I. Dey, G. R. Anderson. Second row: A. Hutchison (Chairman 1928), G. A. Anderson, F. Anderson, W. Etwell, F. Schroder, A. Horneman, R. Aspray, C. S. Lewin (Chairman 1930). Front row: T. Robertson (Chairman 1929), H. L. Boot (Treasurer), J. Joyce (Vice-Chairman), H. J. Cooper (Chairman), A. G. Saunders (Hon. Sec.), A. G. Finlayson (Hon. Sec. 1928–30), S. Warren (Chairman 1927). Absent: 22 members.
The sack of flour, the baby elephant, the parrot in the cage and the performing seal have all at one time or another been classified as “personal luggage,” but this ubiquitous term has never been applied more freely than in its recent extension to include motor cars. Yet it is reported that last year's innovation of the German Railway Company on the Hamburg or Bremen to Basle or Munich routes, for transporting passengers' motor cars as “personal luggage,” but at half ordinary luggage rates, has now been extended to seven other lines. In England the same principle is proving successful, as car owners are discovering that it is better to get out of the centres by rail—thus avoiding road congestion—and to commence from a country station their road tour through the more beautiful unfrequented places.
Author of “Down Westland Ways,” “Golden Westland,” etc.)Elsie K. Morton ,
Where The Waiho River Issues.
The foot of Franz Josef Glacier.
When it rains in South Westland it does rain! But a rainy day in this land of rivers, forests, and glaciers, is a very different thing from a wet day in Wellington or Auckland. It is an experience that more than compensates for any slight upsetting of itineraries, and if you are anywhere near Franz Josef Glacier, and lucky enough to see the Waiho in flood, then you are being treated gratis to a spectacle money couldn't buy. (The photographs accompanying this article were taken by the writer.)
In Sydney, the other day, they had twelve inches of rain in forty-eight hours, and on the other side of the world, people were dying like flies in a heat wave. In March last, Auckland was under the spell of drought; patient gardeners stood to the very last minute of the very last half-hour of daylight-saving hosing their perishing gardens, while down in Westland the rain gauge recorded ten inches inside twenty-four hours, and we guests at Franz Josef Glacier Hotel were marching in bathing suits and oilskins down to the Waiho River, through pouring rain, to see the flood.
It was well worth seeing—those one-day trippers, held up by road slips and flood, were luckier than they knew. Any day one may cross the Waiho Bridge and see nothing but a shingle riverbed and a few swift streamlets threading their way between the bush-clad banks; seldom has the visitor the good fortune to watch the swift rise of one of the swiftest and most dangerous of all those beautiful, menacing rivers of South Westland. All night the rain had come down in torrents; all next morning we watched the steady, pitiless downpour from the windows of the hotel, watched the white mist-clouds come sweeping down over the Mummy Hill, over Canavan's Knob and lofty, snow-capped McFettrick. The mists cleared, then swept down again, and soon the river mists came sweeping up from the Waiho River bed to meet them.
When the Waiho is low, the river bed is nearly a mile wide, and sheep are driven up it to the Main South Road from grazing country down by the ocean. Its low banks are fringed with tawny tussock and plumy toi grass; starry wild flowers and
But the Waiho in flood! No wonder the natives called it—and this is the correct spelling—“Waiau,” or “Smoking Waters.” In flood time, you see a phenomenon
“
Praise the bridge that carries you over.”
Where the Main South Road (Westland) crosses the Waiho River. (The famous Franz Josef Glacier may be seen in the background.)
In March, after those ten inches of rain, the Waiho was running a banker. More than a banker, in fact, for the treacherous flood was soon eating out the banks on the southern side, and before nightfall several chains of metalled road had been swept away. Late in the afternoon we trooped out to see the damage. A telegraph post had just crashed down into the flood, taking with it some more of the road and a tangle of wire. As we approached, another piece of the overhanging bank fell in with a thunder-clap that sounded above the roar of the river. Half-a-dozen men were busy clearing away the tangle of telegraph wire and undergrowth, fixing barriers at either end of the danger zone, chopping down trees for a deviation. Standing there, a little closer to the edge of the bank than safety permitted, I looked out over the grey, swirling flood that reached now from bank to bank. Swift and terrible as the Aratiatia Rapids roared the river beneath the crumbling banks; foam crested waves came racing in from the main current, swirling high against the banks, taking ever fresh toll of rocks and soil. Soon came another crash, and the cry “Stand back!” For a moment the mists lifted, and we saw the tossing flood in all its sullen grandeur; then the white clouds swept up again, and all was hidden.
In the grey twilight we made our way back to the hotel, dim shapes of men and
“Delayed by flood” ran a sheaf of telegrams sent from Waiho Gorge that evening. “And the best bit of sight-seeing in the whole trip!” would have been an adequate tribute to the privilege of that magnificent spectacle, the Waiho in flood.
“
In one diffusive band They drive the troubled flock.”—James Thomson
Driving sheep up the bed of the Waiho River, Westland, New Zealand.
The Railways and Road Transport
(From our London Correspondent.)
The Great Western Railway operates 831 road vehicles in connection with its freight cartage arrangements. During 1929 these vehicles ran over five million miles with nearly two million tons of traffic. The Great Western road motors play a conspicuous part in the handling of “container” business. Despite trade depression, the tonnage collected and delivered by the Great Western rail-road “container” plan continues to expand.
Concerning the cartage of goods traffic in city areas, the Home railways have been giving consideration to the possibilities attending the replacement of horse haulage by mechanical transport. The first practical result of this investigation is the introduction by the London, Midland and Scottish Railways, of a special form of tractor, known as the “mechanical horse,” into cartage services at London, Birmingham and Manchester.
The Romance of the Rail
Mr. J. W. Fergie, formerly of the Railway Publicity Branch, has maintained his interest in this work through a series of lectures from Station 2YA, Wellington. The following interesting comments thereon are extracted from the “Radio Record.”
“With a fluency that was perhaps not inappropriate in dealing with fast moving railway traffic, Mr. J. W. Fergie, recently gave listeners twenty minutes compact with solid information in regard to the Railways.
“Beyond question the Railways have played a major part in the development of the Dominion. Those ribbons of steel have backed up the pioneer's axe and added value in uncounted millions to their lands. Good and fit, therefore, that this service shall be pointed out to the people, so that they may understand how they are served, individually and collectively, by the steady, unceasing service of the railwayman.
“Perhaps, if a suggestion is in order, the romantic side of the service might be developed more. Figures are such dry things, effective though they be. On the other hand, there is illimitable romance about the railway—romance which still lingers, even in these days of motors. What youngster does not still thrill at the sight of the majestic engine roaring down the grade or piercing the night with its long shaft of light; he sees himself the engineer supreme on the footplate, pulsing with power. Now, I think there have been one or two famous speed runs in the Dominion: did not Rous Marten, many years ago, describe a thrilling speed test in the Wellington province? Would not that make a story? Then what about the ins and outs of safety devices; the tablet system, the Westinghouse brake, the electric impulse and automatic signal, and so on? I am always curious about the things the public does not easily see or hear anything about.
“I would venture to suggest that Mr. Fergie would be rendering a distinct service to the public and the Department if he could, on some future occasion, seek out the romantic side of a great service and place that before listeners. For instance, what are the actions and thoughts of a signalman controlling the switches in a railway terminal; of the driver of the ‘Limited’ as he roars into Raetihi; of the attendant on the ‘Limited’ as he fusses over his passengers?”
Preparing For The Day's Run.
(Rly. Publicity photo.)
Enginedriver Dennis Riordan, of Whangarei, North Auckland Section.
History of the Canterbury Railways
(Continued.)
The first timetable for a railway in New Zealand was issued by Messrs. Geo. Holmes and Co., the lessees of the Christchurch to Ferrymead Railway. This railway was opened for public traffic on 1st December, 1863. On the opening day trains were run at frequent intervals, giving free trips to the populace. The regular service began on 2nd December, 1863, the timetable being as follows:—
Although shown in the timetable as Heathcote, the trains ran from and to the station at Ferrymead, on the Heathcote River. The existing station at Heathcote Valley was not opened until the traffic was diverted to Lyttelton. Trains stopped at the intermediate stations, Opawa and Hillsborough, when required.
The timetable was amended on and after 13th December, 1863, by running an additional train, leaving Heathcote at 4.30 p.m. and returning from Christchurch at 5.7 p.m., and by delaying the 5.30 p.m. from Heathcote and 6.0 p.m. from Christ-church to 6.30 p.m. and 7.0 p.m. respectively. The alteration gave facilities for residents along the line, chiefly at Opawa, to make use of the train for travelling to and from their business in the city, and was the foundation of suburban passenger traffic.
In addition to the week-day service, trains were run on Sundays as below:—
On Sundays, also, Milne and Co. ran coaches between Ferrymead and Sumner, connecting with the 10.0 a.m. and 2.0 p.m. trains from Christchurch, taking passengers to and from the seaside.
The fares charged by Messrs. Holmes and Co., between Christchurch and Heathcote, were:—
The lessees also offered a through rate for wool of 10/- per bale from Christchurch to Lyttelton via Ferrymead Wharf. This rate included marking, weighing and delivering in port. Free storage was given for one month if required.
The by-laws and rules and regulations provided that trains were permitted to run at a speed of 35 miles per hour. In mixed trains the trucks were run behind the carriages in order to reduce the chances of shocks to passengers when the trains were starting and stopping. The carriages had spring buffers and screw couplings which enabled the vehicles to be closely coupled. The couplings of the goods trucks were the ordinary hook and link which allowed considerable slack between the vehicles, and the earlier trucks had solid buffers or deadwoods.
The contract for the Great South Line from Christchurch to Rakaia River included the supply of rolling stock, viz.:—Seven passenger carriages and 15 goods wagons as specified by the Engineer (Mr. W. T. Doyne) and two locomotives of the same type as those in use on the Lyttelton to Christchurch line. The two new locomotives (numbered 3 and 4) were obtained from the same builders who supplied the two L. and C. engines. There was at first some difficulty with No. 4. The boiler steamed well, and the engine, though a little sluggish, would run light, but, when a load was attached, it jibbed and could not be induced to pull. To outward appearance there was no reason for this, but it was not
A Snap By The Wayside.
(Photo. V. A. Stapleton.)
Locomotive crew of the Wanganui Railway staff's picnic train, 1931.
A somewhat lighter type of permanent way was adopted for the Southern line. Flat-footed (vignolles) rails of 651b. to the yard and fastened directly to the sleepers were used instead of the 701b. double-headed rails in chairs of the Lyttelton line.
The contractors undertook to construct the first 13 miles of line in twelve months, and to complete to the north bank of the Rakaia in two years, but this undertaking was subject to certain financial arrangements by the Provincial Council. The contract also provided that the contractors would, if required, work each section as completed for six months, providing station accommodation to enable traffic to be conveniently conducted, and to run two passenger trains each way daily, at times to be approved by the Government. The contractors were to take the traffic receipts of the line in payment of the working expenses. The tolls to be taken were not to exceed, per passenger, sixpence (6d.) per mile, and per ton of goods, two shillings and sixpence (2/6) per mile.
A conference of the Engineers for the line, with Messrs. T. Cass, Chief Surveyor, and E. Dobson, Engineer for the L. and C. Railway, was held for the purpose of deciding the number and location of stations. Their report recommended:—
These were stated to be the only stations required at first, but there was space on the three chain reserve for any others which might be found necessary thereafter. When the line was working to Selwyn, however, the stations were:—Addington (1), Riccarton (2), Racecourse, Templeton, Rolleston (3), Leeston Road (afterwards Burnham), and Selwyn. The first section of the line to be constructed was from the east side of Colombo Street, Christchurch, to the George and Dragon Inn on the Great South Road, a distance of about six miles. Some enterprising settlers assumed there would be a station at the George and Dragon, and were much disconcerted when the site of Templeton station was fixed about three-quarters of a mile further south. As a solatium a stop, when required, for passengers was granted. This stop was called “Parish's,” and remained for some years. The fares charged were the same as for Templeton.
The time-table for the South Line on and after 16th December, 1867, was as follows:—
Although the route for the South line had been agreed upon by the Railway and Bridge Commission there was difference of opinion concerning the route of the North Line. The point of crossing the Ashley
The contract for the breastwork and reclamation for Lyttelton station was let to E. J. Wright, who was afterwards responsible for the construction of many other railway works in Canterbury. The specification provided for a backing of sheet piling for the breastwork, but the supply of timber being delayed and the contractor having to dispose of a quantity of stripping in order to obtain rock for the facing, reclamation was continued without the sheet piling, with the result that during stormy weather the embankment slipped into the harbour. An enquiry was held and there was some condemnation of the plan, but it chiefly appeared that in order to forward the work a risk had been taken, and the damage had resulted.
In 1866 the term of Mr. Bealey as Superintendent having expired, Mr. W. Sefton Moorhouse was again elected. In addressing the Provincial Council on 19th October, 1866, he referred to the extraordinary drain on the resources of Canterbury in favour of the Northern Island during the last few years, which had very materially affected the powers of sustaining a large public expenditure in reproductive works. He was hopeful of meeting present engagements and completing all works which had been commenced. There was still a distance of 245 yards to be excavated to complete the Lyttelton tunnel, but it was expected the line from Lyttelton to Selwyn would be ready for traffic in about nine months. The line was already working between Ferrymead and Rolleston.
A Creditable Job.
The above casting (for a two-ton steam hammer) was manufactured at Hillside, and recently installed at the workshops. It is probably the largest casting ever made in our railway workshops, having a base of 5ft. × 3ft. 6in., height 4ft. 3in., and a weight of 8 tons.
As the Lyttelton to Christchurch Railway was approaching completion, and in view of the other important works in hand, some rearrangement of the supervising staff of the Province was made at this time. Mr. Thos. L. Locke was appointed Assistant Engineer for the L. and C. Railway, thus relieving Mr. Dobson and permitting him to undertake the duties of Provincial Engineer in addition to the position of Resident Engineer for the Railway. Mr. C. M. Igglesden was appointed Resident Engineer at Lyttelton to supervise the railway and wharf work. Mr. Charles Scott, who had been sent from England as Tunnel Inspector
The Supervising Engineer for the Great South Railway (Mr. W. T. Doyne) came to New Zealand to superintend the construction of a railway for the Dun Mountain Copper Mining Co. in Nelson, which line was claimed to be the first railway in New Zealand, but as the City Council of Nelson would not permit the use of a locomotive in the streets, the line was never more than a private horse tramway. Mr. Doyne had had varied experience both at Home and abroad, and was a man of distinguished attainments, but latterly his activities were curtailed by failing health. The Resident Engineer for the Railway was Mr. J. Major, who was associated with Mr. Doyne in this and other similar works.
(To be continued.)
The First Railway Terminus In New Zealand.
(Photo, courtesy Christchurch “Star.”)
A view of the Ferrymead station in 1868, shewing the engine shed and hotel.
There has been considerable improvement in the train speeds of most countries in recent years, but the best recorded run to date is still that made by the Ocean Mail train from Plymouth to London, in 1904, when the distance—246 1/2 miles—was covered in 3 hours 43 minutes, or at an average rate of 63.3 miles per hour.
The “International Limited,” the “daily each way” express which now links Montreal with Chicago, has one stretch of 334 miles, between Toronto and Montreal, where the average speed maintained is 55.6 miles per hour for a six-hour run.
In South Africa, where the gauge is the same as in New Zealand, viz. 3ft. 6in., there has been great attention paid to improving the times between principal points. For instance, the Johannesburg-Capetown express, which in 1910 took 43 hours 50 minutes for the 956-mile journey, now completes the trip in 28 1/2 hours, an improvement in the average rate from 21.8 miles to 33.8 miles per hour.
Our “Limited” express, from Wellington to Auckland, takes 14 hours 25 minutes for the 426 miles, an average speed of over 29 miles per hour, much of the distance, however, being over heavy grades, including the central mountain district where, at Waiouru, the line rises to 2,660ft. above sea level.
Owing to the keen interest taken by parents in the “Children's Page” series now appearing in the Magazine, it has been decided that cabinet-size prints of any of the photographs of railwaymen's children reproduced there may be obtained for one shilling each, on application through the nearest Station master.
A recent cable recorded the death, at his home in California, of Captain L. D. Mitchell, the noted deep-sea angler. Colonel Mabin, whose articles in the Magazine on deep-sea fishing at the Bay of Islands will be remembered, has kindly supplied the following biographical note on the late captain's career:—
“Captain Mitchell was a retired British officer, who, after serving in the Great War, joined the staff of Mr. Zane Grey, the American novelist and angler. It was during the 1925–26 fishing season that the late Captain Mitchell first visited New Zealand, with Mr. Zane Grey's fishing expedition, and on February 25th, 1926, while camped at the Bay of Islands, he landed, successfully, the world's record black marlin swordfish, which turned the scales at 976 pounds. This catch still constitutes the world's record for this species of fish. The marlin took Captain Mitchell three hours forty-five minutes to land, towing the launch ten miles out to sea.
Apart from being acknowledged the most skilful deep-sea angler of his time, his fame as a sportsman was world-wide. Little did it matter whether Captain Mitchell was in the heart of the unknown wilds, in search of big game, or on the river bank casting a fly, or on the deep-sea fishing grounds in New Zealand waters, he was always a gentleman, and ever ready to give his kindly advice and help to anyone who wished it, especially to the novitiate.
No one could have done more, with a view to bringing New Zealand prominently before the outside world than Captain Mitchell. He loved our Dominion and was directly instrumental in inducing people from overseas to visit our country to indulge in deep-sea angling and to enjoy the many other attractions to be found here. The late Captain Mitchell was a walking encyclopedia as far as sport is concerned, and his death has deprived the Dominion of one who rendered a signal service in popularising its tourist and sporting attractions.”
Statistics are at times apt to be a trifle dull, but the recently published Ministry of Transport annual railway returns, packed tight with figures though they may be, are alike interesting and educative. According to these returns, the Home railways had some 20,419 miles of road open for traffic at December 31, 1929. Expressed in single track, the total mileage of running lines was 37,169 miles, and of sidings 15,514 miles. Steam, electric and petrol locomotives numbered 23,454, while passenger carriages numbered 51,243, with a seating capacity of 2,800,272. There were 229 Pullman cars in use at the close of last year. Goods and coal wagons numbered 700,093, with a total tonnage capacity of 7,690,405 tons.
By Those Who Like Us
From the Hon. Secretary, Denniston Retailers' Association, Denniston, to the General Manager of Railways, Wellington:—
I am directed by the members of the above Association to convey to you their sincere appreciation of the service your Department has made available, in the system of through booking of goods from any part of New Zealand to Denniston.
This system is very much appreciated and has been the means of goods reaching us much quicker than previously. The members trust that the system is now past the developmental stage, and that your Department will make it a permanency.
Under the system goods that are accepted by the Railways are delivered in excellent condition, and the chances of loss in packages is practically done away with.
The members also wish to express their appreciation of the courtesy shown by the Stationmaster at Westport and Waimangaroa Junction, in their part of carrying out this system.
* * *
From Mr. Ivan H. Curlett, Hastings, to the Stationmaster, Hastings:—
I wish to express my appreciation of the manner in which the Railway Department handled the packing and removal of my furniture from Hastings to Lower Hutt. I would particularly like to stress the efficient manner in which the work was expedited, and the very reasonable charge which was made by your Department for the work done.
May I in closing also thank you for the trouble you went to over the matter and for your personal and courteous attention.
From Mr. E. J. Wilson, Hon. Secretary, Wellington Provincial Yacht and Motor Boat Association, to the General Manager of Railways, Wellington:—
On behalf of the above Association I have much pleasure in expressing our sincere thanks to your Department for the very able assistance and courtesy extended to our crew, and to myself, in making arrangements for sending the crew and boat to the Sanders Cup Contest at Dunedin.
I would especially like to mention Mr. Denz (Tourist Office, Dominion Buildings, Wellington), and Mr. Aekins (Transport Office, Wellington) who were most courteous and obliging.
* * *
From the Manager, Evans' Atlas Roller Flour and Oatmeal Milling Co., Ltd., Timaru, to the Stationmaster, Timaru:—
We desire to thank you and the officers of the transport department for the consideration shown to us in the delivery of grain during this season from stations in mid and South Canterbury.
As you are aware, the majority of farmers as a general rule are anxious to market their crop immediately it is harvested, and in consequence a congestion occurs at certain periods at mills and stores.
In our case we endeavoured to assist you by engaging a large gang of men to discharge the wheat as promptly as possible, and thus release the wagons, which were required elsewhere. Your co-operation in the above matter is fully appreciated.
Do You Collect Engine Pictures?
A Flourishing Engine Picture Club.
Collecting engine pictures is a popular hobby of railroad employees and railroad “fans” everywhere. Each collector has his own preference: new or old motive power, electricity or steam, local or foreign. Some save all kinds of railroad views, including trains, stations, bridges, cars, snow ploughs, etc.
In New Zealand, perhaps the finest collection by a non-railway man is that of Mr. W. W. Stewart, of Auckland. Amongst the railway staff, keen enthusiasts personally known to us are Mr. E. S. Brittenden (now Acting-District Manager at Christchurch) and Mr. S. Fahey, of the Traffic staff at Featherston.
The International Engine Picture Club, sponsored by Railroad Man's Magazine, 280 Broadway, New York City, has several thousand members all over the globe. Its membership is free and not limited to readers of the magazine. No initiation fee, no dues. Each member is entitled to have his name and address published in the magazine without cost, together with information on the material he wishes to collect, buy, sell, exchange, paint or draw.
Among the members are Charles E. Fisher, President of the Railway and
A Modern American Locomotive Giant.
Timken high pressure roller bearing locomotive, built by the American Locomotive Co., New York. (Weight in working order, engine and tender, 711,500 Ibs.)
One of the world's largest collections is possessed by Joseph Lavelle, 4615 Sixty-sixth Street, Winfield, Long Island, N.Y., who has more than 30,000 photographs of North American locomotives, all different. These include snapshots he made himself and those obtained from other collectors.
The field can be expanded to include pictures on old prints, fans, pottery, currency, postage stamps, etc. The Standard Postage Stamp Catalogue lists 160 stamps depicting steam locomotives, 12 picturing electric engines, and 38 which feature the inauguration of railways, besides 142 others pertaining to railroading either by an inscription or by use.
Altogether 352 railway postage stamps are listed. One of them—a U.S. Pan-American issue of 1901 with a train placed upside down by mistake—is catalogued at 2,700 dollars for a single copy! Another curiosity is a Guatemalan engine-picture stamp overprinted for air post service. Why a locomotive should be used in aviation is more than we can explain.
byE. Vivian Hall
A Loin Cloth in London—Do East and West Meet?—Western Materialism Creaks—Britain Off Gold Standard.
Dark-Skinned potentates often went to Old Rome in chains to adorn a Roman triumph, but never was there such an entry into Rome, ancient or modern, as the entry of Gandhi into London. He of the loin cloth—“a self-made shawl” was added at Marseilles—came in what is now his habitual simplicity of attire, strange contrast to the evening dress he wore in London about the end of the last century. But if there is a limit to his wardrobe, there seems to be little limit to the moral authority he claims. It may be that the calibre of prophets is still estimated to be in inverse proportion to their raiment. Actually Gandhi will speak at the India Round Table Conference on behalf of the Indian Congress, an Assembly which claims to represent some of India's many millions. But, over and above such political credentials, his whole demeanour impresses the plea that he moves on spiritual tides. He comes West to champion Eastern culture and spirituality in a way that even Kipling, brilliant as he was in picturing the Indian mind, could not (would not!) have conceived.
Nothing could indeed be stranger—nothing, perhaps, more symbolic—than this impact of the apostle of simplicity upon the elaborate materialism of the West. Gandhi's asceticism implies at once an Oriental rebuke to Occidental pride in tawdry wealth and temporal power. “What are all your costly trappings really worth?” asks, in effect, the Indian in the loin cloth. It thus happens that, while he will be negotiating in terms of temporal politics, the wise man from India will do so as a superior spirit challenging the altruism of the Western World to live up to its cultural aims, and to admit the higher life of the unhurrying East. Gandhi need not say these things specifically. His loin cloth, and the atmosphere he carries with him, will say them. There is an implied moral detachment that makes him a difficult person for ordinary political negotiators to tackle. And the implication, whether valid or not, will be noted by millions of people, watching for signs and portents.
The watchfulness of the white world—the gold world—will be enhanced by the crisis into which Britain, Europe, and America have so suddenly and completely been plunged. The wider effect of this crisis is economic, but the deeper effect is moral, or even moral-religious (as indicated by the widespread revival of the study of prophecy). Gandhi's arrival in London could have had no more vivid back-ground than this near-breakdown of the gold world's
Such a conjunction of dramatic events—in party politics, in national and world finance, and again in the clash of colours, creeds, castes, and civilisations—will surely be seized on by the historian of the future when he endeavours to focus the post-war cross-currents and their confusing effects. But to-day we live too close to the trees to see the wood. We are only dimly conscious that many things are in the melting pot. We know that men like Mr. Ramsay MacDonald and Mr. Philip Snowden do not break party ties and imperil their political and personal careers without compelling cause. The mere “disagreeable task” of putting extra taxation on incomes, beer, and tobacco, of reducing unemployment pay, salaries, and services, would not be shouldered by a Labour Chancellor of the Exchequer unless he felt that the whole standard of living was imperilled. “The white man's burden” has become a burden indeed.
How much the standard of living was imperilled was not revealed till two or three weeks after the MacDonald-Snowden-Conservative-Liberal Government had been formed. The issue between the Labour units in the Cabinet, and the Labour body from which they have been cut off, was at first simple. Messrs. MacDonald and Snow-den stood for a balanced Budget and for the gold standard; therefore, they said, unemployment relief and social services must be cut down. Labour as a body replied that Budgetary and gold standard principles could be made to fit; and that in any case, if it came to be a choice between a balanced Budget and relief expenditure, the latter should stand. Briefly put, that was the issue on which Labour and its leaders parted in August. But, before September was three parts spent, international finance had followed such courses that the Bank of England rate rose from 41/2 to 6 per cent., and Britain went off the gold standard.
As if this ominous series of happenings was not enough, the world was at the same time startled by breaches of discipline in the Atlantic Fleet, intended as a demonstration against reduced pay (such reductions being regarded as part of the price paid for the new Government's balanced Budget), and by Japan's armed intervention in Manchuria. The naval incident was luridly represented on the Continent, and added to the strain of the sterling crisis. It is still somewhat veiled in mystery; so is the Japanese-Chinese clash and its reactions upon the Nanking and Manchurian Administrations and upon the League of Nations. But so quickly had the financial and military clouds gathered that for the moment India was almost forgotten. It looked as if the wise men from the East had gathered in London to listen to the rumbles of Western materialism, engrossed with its own peculiar evils.
At this stage one must leave the thread of the main story to touch on other manifestations of Westernism, such as air speed. But it is patent that the air is full of change and rumours of change. While invention marches ahead, while machines of all sorts grow better and better, the cry of discontent with the distribution of wealth, with the whole working of the economic-industrial system, refuses to die down. The world is marching to a new international outlook, of which the Hoover moratorium is one sign. It is marching also to a new structure of social relationship within each country. There was never a stream of events more puzzling than that of August-September. A rapid flowing stream it is, full of interest and possibility.
The ability of an aeroplane to fly at over 400 miles an hour—and to average nearly 380 miles over several “runs”—without killing its pilot, was demonstrated in the uncontested Schneider Cup flight over the Solent. The deaths, not long before, of two members of Schneider Cup teams—one Englishman and one Italian—had revived the question whether the capacity of the speed machines was beginning to exceed the capacity of man. It was suggested that the Italian, who crashed fatally in an aeroplane, credited with being equal to over 400, had simply lost consciousness, through speed or fumes or both. But the British pilots, Stain-forth and Boothman, who won the Schneider Cup for Britain in the absence of France and Italy, survived in good order, though Boothman needed arm massage. Under the rules, it seems, Britain now wins the Cup outright, but Lady Houston's money may again become instrumental in continuing the competition with the Continent. Her Ladyship doec not believe in aeroplanes rusting or in airmen resting.
The Rail Terminal Of A Rich Dairying District In New Zealand.
(Rly. Publicity Photo.)
A scene on the station at New Plymouth (Taranaki Province) before the departure of a recent excursion train.
The New Zealand cricket team having completed all its British matches save one, it is possible to sum up the tour. The team won less matches, and lost less, than the 1927 team. The 1931 team won six, while the 1927 team won seven; the former lost three, while the latter lost five. On the whole, the batting is adjudged stronger than the bowling. At the same time, the batting was inconsistent. Merritt got most wickets, but at one stage of the tour was much hit by the best bats. Vivian, the colt, has a good allround record, and Dempster is, of course, top batsman. In 1927, the number of New Zealand three-figure scores was 19, and in 1931 (with six more matches) 23. Twenby years ago it would have been thought that first-class bowling was more within New Zealand's reach than first-class batting. The batting advance is therefore most encouraging. The bowlers will come. Climate is rather on their side.
(Perpetrated and Illustrated by
)Ken Alexander .September is as full of promise as a mortgage, the marriage vows, a teething rash on a cross-cut saw, a debtor's prison, a begging letter, a legging bettor, or a centipede in a two-legged race at the snakes' and adders' picnic. Every year, at that period of terrestrial consternation, when the Dipper is dippy and the Great Bare wishes he were less so, and the Astronomical Society comes down to earth till the weather breaks, and Orion gets soaked off the coast of Ireland—proving that “the quality of Murphy is not strained,” then we know that it is September, because it would have to be unless it were not, which is improbable. But September, although credited by the credulous with intent to spring and otherwise convert the gifts of Nature to its own use, is really an impostor of the first water—or the early rains. For although posing as a premature mosquito bite on the face of the earth, a sun-beam on its beam ends, or a sun-bath with the plug out, it seldom has the spring goods in stock when the customer calls its bluff. In the first place it should be prosecuted for making a false declaration as to its age, for it is only the seventh son of the union of Time and Tide, and not the ninth wonder of the year; for if “septum” does not mean “seven” then all good children do not, despite popular belief, go to heaven. In reality, September, is only July in an advanced state of premeditation, and has no real claim to act as doorkeeper at the sun baths, custodian of the spring board, or Winter in a straw hat.
Anyway, a month that can associate with Influenza should be arrested under the Summer-time Act and suppressed by the Greenwich clock-watchers. It should be called Fluetember, Septuenza, or Influember; for Influenza is the most germicidal of the seven hundred and seventy-seven trials which are staged in the cells of the human constitution. Influenza is more like bad news on a wet Monday morning than a disease; it envelops rather than develops, and resembles a sock full of wet glue, an aggravated cow-drench with the blind staggers, a frosted presentiment in kilts, or a dash for the pole without a leg to stand on.
Some diseases are fair fighters, according to the rules of Habeas Corpus and the ethics of indoor winter sports, such as Catching the Cold, Pitching the Pill, and Taking Precautions; but Influenza, as a microbe, is not a square mike nor a germ you can introduce to your friends with any feeling of confidence or pride. Some diseases you are not ashamed to introduce into any company as homely, honest-to-goodness complaints that simply get to work, do their job, and leave the premises at closing
“Gout is a merry companion for the long winter evenings.”
Of the more sociable complaints, perhaps Gout was the most so; it is, however, now but a memory, like the Maypole and other old-fashioned methods of publicity. But in its day Gout was received only in the highest families, and if my Lord Loll failed to go giddy with Gout at least once a year he put his physician on the mat. Gout was a merry companion for the long winter evenings, and it cost money to cultivate its friendship, which explains why it has gone out of fashion. But Influenza is a sticky business, and is neither the bona fide banana nor the straight Griffin; it arrests the mental processes, puts the bracelets on the bracings, and dampens the fires of inspiration. Sung with sneezes:—
In the cure and treatment of disease, some advise this way and others advise that way, but we advise the railway. When ill, some people say “take a pill,” some say take care, but we say take a train. The beauty about trains is that you can take one at any time. Anyway it is your railway. The railway traveller is always happy and well, because he keeps miling, and is always above the
“Ii's your railway, anyway.”
fed
The prosperity of New Zealand is largely dependent on the world's woollies; so let us chant to the good old days when:
Repairing- The Permanent Way
Not self-interest, but self-sacrifice, is the only law upon which human society can be grounded, with any hope of prosperity and permanence. —Kingsley.
Conducted bySheila G. Marshall
Notes On Hair.Since the days when our forefathers roamed among the cliffs, clad in skins, and armed with primitive and effective weapons, the hair of women has been praised and appreciated. Prehistoric lovers carved crude rhymes on tree trunks proclaiming the beauty of wild soft masses of cloudy dark hair—long before our sisters resorted to powder and paint. They made combs from the teeth of animals and spent long hours in the sunshine singing, and shaking out their tresses in the wind, decking their heads with garlands of sweetly scented flowers, and washing their hair in the clear brooks. It was the first beauty of which they were conscious, and it thus assumed a very important position in their lives, became an influence and a power. How many battles in early world history have been fought for the dusky braids of a maiden's hair! How many poets have sung of its charm! How many artists have immortalised a golden curl, and given life to a shining plait! It would scarcely be an exaggeration to state that the hair of woman has been responsible for many of the greatest creative efforts of the race. To outline even a few of the countless methods of dressing the hair adopted by the daughters of Eve throughout the ages would fill a substantial volume. A few words on the hair as it is understood to-day would, therefore, be apropos in this brief discussion. Shall we say that it has fallen from its high estate, that it is neglected, abused and scorned; that it has been replaced in women's regard by the care of an eyebrow, the shine of a nail, the painted curve of a charming lip? Indeed there are many grounds for this assertion when we glance round at the theatre or in the ballroom upon the severe and ruthless Eton crop, the sleekly oiled shingle, the artificially curled and painfully produced wind-blown bob! Each head gives evidence of thought and time spent upon it—but time unwillingly snatched from the attention lavished upon a peach-bloom cheek or a ridiculously mutilated eyebrow. Innumerable lotions are procured daily by women all over the world—lotions designed to force those unwilling and rebellious locks into the slavery of flat little curls, “cute” points, and fascinating ripples. Now is the reign of the permanent wave, that modern invention which enables the woman whose hair Nature designed to be agressively and undoubtedly straight, to present to the world rows of symmetrical and undisputable waves. To-day she may flaunt her locks proudly among her sisters. Indeed, so faithful is the imitation that a mere man would find it
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Light Railway Pudding: 1 cup flour, 1/2 cup sugar, 1/2 cup milk, 1 egg, 1 teaspoonful cream of tartar, 1/2 teaspoon soda, 1 dessertspoon butter. Bake in tin in moderate oven, and serve with jam, whipped cream, or sauce.
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Canadian Date Cake: 1 cup butter, 2 cups flour, 1 cup sugar, 3/4 cup dates, and 3/4 cup cold water, 1 teaspoon soda, 2 eggs, and a handful of walnuts. Filling: 3/4 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup milk, 1 teaspoon butter. Bake 15 minutes.
For junket, make Ovaltine in the usual way with hot milk or milk and water.
Even the ice-cream lover will find Ovaltine an improvement to ices of all kinds. Just sprinkle a little over the ice and enjoy the novel flavour. Sprinkled on bread and butter cut sandwich fashion, it makes a treat for tea. Youngsters enjoy it very much.
Children will eat porridge more readily if Ovaltine is sprinkled over the top, some milk poured over, and then the whole mixed up together.
Few people realize that it is not work, but neglect which roughens and ruins the hands. Before and after housework a little Sydal, the wonderful hand emollient should be rubbed into the hands. It cleanses and heals the skin and makes it soft and velvety. Sydal is sold everywhere.
Meeting the Times
Railways Publicity
Commenting upon the publicity activities of the Railways Department to which reference is made in the Annual Statement recently submitted to Parliament, the “Evening Post,” Wellington states: “When revenue comes easily, a man engaged in competitive trade may advertise; when revenue is scarce, he must. This sentence seems to sum up the experience of the New Zealand Railways and many other concerns. The uses of advertisement expand in adversity.” The “Post” goes on to quote the Report as follows.
“In the Annual Statement of the Railways Department, the General Manager Mr. H. H. Sterling reports: “The keen competition of the road motor vehicle in the matter of services and rates, and the extensive advertising campaigns carried on by the various road transport interests, have been an indication of the tremendous effort made by the motor industry to capture a large share of the land transport of this Dominion. An analysis of the various advertising and propaganda media used by motor and allied interests disclosed the fact that quite large sums of money were being spent in order to create a definite public feeling in favour of road transit and the road motor-vehicle. The cumulative effect of this effort has been very great, and has no doubt affected adversely our business during the year. As an offset to the efforts of motor interests, and in order to attract and retain as far as possible our legitimate business, a comprehensive scheme of advertising covering the whole of the Press of New Zealand has been in operation.
“One factor forcing the Railways Publicity Branch to special measures is the natural advantage which, in an advertising sense, belongs to a new and ornamental vehicle that can parade daily and hourly where the people most do congregate. A motor bus in the streets of a city is in itself an advertisement for motor service. But you cannot show a railway train in the streets and public grounds of the city. You can show a tramcar in some of them—but not all. A motor vehicle can go almost anywhere as a living advertisement of a benzine age that still possesses the charm of novelty.
Contrast this with a railway service which does all the country's heaviest transport (both in passengers and goods), but, which, being “confined to its own three thousand miles of track, is liable to be overlooked unless its claims on public patronage are kept prominently before the people by judicious advertising.”
The report shows that both the general and the particular advantages of railway travel have been kept before the public as much as funds will allow, by advertising in newspapers and in other channels. One sees the railways of other countries advertised on New Zealand railway stations. That is not entirely an altruistic gesture. The other countries undertake to do the same thing for New Zealand railways. Other countries include Belgium, England, India, South Africa, Rhodesia, Australia. “While the money available did not permit any large advertising campaign to be undertaken, the advantages of rail transport have been kept steadily before the public.”
“One of the cheapest forms of publicity available to the Department of Railways” is the New Zealand Railways Magazine.” Publishing economies have been made, “with the result that the outlay for this 68-page magazine of 20,000 circulation will work out at about 1 1/2d. per copy in the current year. This represents a very moderate expenditure for the departmental and publicity usefulness of this enterprise. Moreover, it is anticipated that the increased advertising activity, recently planned, will still further reduce the cost of the magazine and, whilst still maintaining the free circulation amongst the staff and business houses, eventually bring it close to the self-supporting stage.” Many copies go overseas. “As a medium of advice and explanative information and instruction between the management and the employees, and a very helpful link between the railways and the public, the magazine has thoroughly justified its existence.” It is in its sixth year of publication.
“
When youth and pleasure meet …”
(Railway Publicity photo.)
A flashlight photograph of the second annual dance held recently by the Hutt Valley Workshops employees. Members of the social committee responsible for the dance arrangements were Messrs. F. Parr (Chairman), W. Burton (President), C. O'Shea (Secretary), J. Graham (Asst. Secretary), F. Bonifand, H. Chappell, H. Dallison, H. Gjerson, R. Horwell, H. Leopard, J. McGuire, W. Sullivan, W. Wilson and T. Woolland. Mr. H. Du Faur ably performed the duties of M.C. Among those present was Mr. A. E. P. Walworth (late Works Manager, Lower Hutt, and at present Works Manager, Otahuhu).
Hutt Workshops Second Annual Ball
The second annual dance arranged with the object of raising funds for the provision of a Christmas tree for the children of Hutt Workshops employees was held on 9th September.
The social hall in which the dance was held, was artistically decorated with multi-coloured lights, balloons and streamers, and the unique mural decorations provided a pleasing background for the 200 dancers present.
An atmosphere of gaiety and fun prevailed, and the music supplied by the Workshops Orchestra, under the leadership of Mr. C. L. Peace, was excellent.
Exhibition dances were given by Miss Draper and partner, and extras were played by Miss Sherwood and Mr. A. Clarke. The dining hall, where supper was served, was tastefully decorated with spring flowers and greenery. Supper arrangements were in the hands of a subcommittee, consisting of committee-men's wives.
Collett
Nature, we are told, has many moods! Apart from that aphorism we may go so far as to qualify her as a “paradox”; at once kind and cruel. Her laws are more rigid and unalterable than those of the Medes and Persians, the least infringement bears but one penalty—death! There is no middle course: she showers, with the same hand, kindness and (seeming) cruelty—life and death!
Can any reader of this—and there are many competent to say—recall a single instance of seeing a malformed or cripple creature of the wild? Just think it over! One of Nature's most fundamental laws is the “survival of the fittest.” She has neither time nor place for the degenerate, the unfit, the slothful; they must perish by the wayside.
Concomitant with, or subsequent to this law, is that of “selection”; the most vigorous and strong are the chosen and elect for procreation. The mates are compelled to do battle, as did the knights of old, for conquest and preference; whether it be for mating or for home-site—it is all the same thing, the prize to the victor!
After this prelude it is intended to touch on bird-life in this article. Spring is swiftly approaching our shores; soon another “winter of our discontent” will belong to the past; and Nature, omnisciently soaring, will garb herself in gala raiment; the song of the turtle (dove) will be heard in our land; the call of the cuckoo, the symphony of the tui ravish and enchant our listening ears. Our migratory birds will return to our shores rejoicing in “homing” again.
With some species the domestic phase will have been completed elsewhere; others will arrive intent and eager for home-building, obsessed by the all-compelling instinct of reproductivity. We can not ascribe this state to anything but instinctive intention; there does not appear to be any intelligent forecasting of events that are to follow; nor can we recognise, in any small degree even, the knowledge of experience. The ways of young birds entering into a nesting state for the first time do not in manner differ from those of others who have reared many broods.
Firstly, we may note that “selection” occupies a most prominent part in Nature's scheme. Both male and female are affected, those whose “fitness” is waning are backward in the power of procreation; either their broods will be entirely absent, or hatched out too late, and as a consequence weaklings that cannot be reared.
For purposes of explanation birds may be placed under two headings:
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Those that nest in colonies, and whose food supplies are plentiful. These are not prolific, some laying only one egg.
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Solitary nesting birds, sub-divided again; the carnivores, whose food supply being restricted, require wide hunting range and scope: those whose nesting sites are extremely limited.
This, in the latter class, gives rise to sanguinary territorial battles; and, the territory, once occupied, is jealously guarded against intrusion. A laggard arrival, imbued with poaching intentions, is in an awkward predicament, he will be obliged to battle with, not one antagonist, but the nesting pair.
The males are always the first to arrive, often a week ahead of the females. It is their duty to annex and hold preferable sites for their future nurseries, governed by two factors—suitability as to position and of food supplies. When the females
Razor-bills battling for nursery site. Owner and poacher.
As regards the gregarious nesters, attention may be drawn to the communal weaver bird of the tropics that constructs such enormous community nests that one will contain whole cartloads of material. The “scrub-turkey,” of Australasia, builds communal mounds, as nests, like small hills. Here mention may also be made, in this class, of terns, gannets, cormorants, and other such “fish-preyers.”
Amongst the solitary builders, whose food supplies are restricted, we may make mention of the larger falconidæ who, of a necessity, need large and extensive hunting grounds. Conspicuous amongst these is the fearless and savage Peregrine; intolerant of intrusion.
The skua-gull, another fierce defender of territorial rights, is a welcome home-builder in Scotland. So fiercely does the skua protect his demesne that, that overlord of the air, the golden eagle, is compelled to relinquish the vicinity. Very swift of wing and powerful of beak and talon, the skua pair will attack and put to ignominious flight any eagle bold enough to intrude—the aerial battle being a sight well worth witnessing.
Again, the raven requires extensive preserves; yet, this bird is not altogether unsocial. If digression, to an extent, be permitted, an instance of “communal instinct” may here be quoted that goes far to shew that birds are capable of conveying thought and idea to one another by means of—shall we say—“bird language.”
Passing through the mountainous country near Myrtleford, in Victoria (Australia), it fell to the writer's good fortune to witness an evidence of this trait in the ravens. An “eagle-hawk”—the largest of the world's eagles—approached a raven nursery. The parent ravens sped away in different directions, and were soon seen returning with reinforcements. The two parties joined forces rapidly, formed up—as it were—in battle order, attacked the formidable marauder, and put him to ignominious flight.