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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 10 (January 1, 1937)

Tadpoles in the Tea

Tadpoles in the Tea.

And the sunrises! You never saw anything like them. With two-thirds of you out of the window you can't help seeing them. Of course, you must expect rain. Baching is a dry business without it. Not that you need rain to fill the tank because the tank won't fill, anyway, on account of there being no tank. But there's a nice stream down at the end of the paddock. The water is perfectly pure; the tadpoles enjoy it even more than you do. It's splendid sport laying odds as to who will get the tadpole in his tea. Childish pleasures, no doubt, but it is these simple delights that make baching so jolly. When it rains you get a complete rest because you have to lie under the table and chairs to keep the drips out of your eyes. It is the only time when you can say that there is water laid on all over the house.

If you take a dog you should see that he wears his tail short. No reasonable person objects to a dog in a bach but a tail lying all round the house is awkward if there is a dog on the other end of it.

You're not going baching? We hope that nothing w've said has put you off. page 48 page 49
(Rly. Publicity photo.) A section of the Wanganui Public Library —the most modern in Australia and New Zealand.

(Rly. Publicity photo.)
A section of the Wanganui Public Library —the most modern in Australia and New Zealand.

sorted out for harder knocks than any other.

Every sign in the business places to-day shows that the bad times have passed into ancient history. I was in the departmental store known as Londontown, and it was well packed. Elaborate preparations were being made for the youngsters’ Christmas attraction, and perhaps youthful squeals of ecstacy may finally banish Old Man Gloom from this bright section of the city. I found in conversation with the proprietor, Mr. W. J. Robinson, that, with characteristic New Zealand thoroughness, he had spent years in London, specialising in the several branches of the art of clothing New Zealanders.

I would like to be present in the Avenue when the Christmas Carnival Week opens this year. If ever an ideal street had been planned for processional purposes, it is the stately Victoria Avenue. Be reminded, too, that there are other broad thoroughfares bordered with fine edifices. The residential districts have their own distinction. St. John's Hill is a remarkable dress circle plateau, with so many lovely homes and gardens that one wonders where the gold mines are, that belong to their fortunate owners. Here again appears the constant feature of New Zealand tree and verdure growth which gives garden and lawn of ten years’ standing an air of immemorial age.

It is in partial explanation of the incidence of splendid homes that I discovered that this was a city of wide-spreading industries, any of them of national importance. At the mouth of the river, for instance, is a factory which supplies every man, woman and child in New Zealand with a bar of soap every year. Messrs. J. B. Gilberd and Sons, Ltd., have been going for fifty years and more, and among their achievements is the skilful use of the pumice which is in such easy reach. “Waxine” is a household name, and the establishment is impressive in its scale of plant and equipment; there is something almost awe-inspiring about 10,000 cases of sandsoap which permanently fill the drying room. Nearer to the city proper is another nationally known name. This is the home of the Southern Cross Biscuit, a great enterprise which has contributed something to the morning cup of tea, and the clubman's luncheon cheese everywhere in the Dominion. It is a hive of cheerful operatives, and is working at full pressure.
(Rly. Publicity photo.) A group of beautiful tree ferns in the Waikupa Valley, East Town, Wanganui.

(Rly. Publicity photo.)
A group of beautiful tree ferns in the Waikupa Valley, East Town, Wanganui.

The plant is the last word in modern efficiency, and I take the opportunity of using these two concerns as texts for a contention that I have so often urged. It is of the utmost importance that decentralisation of industrial production should be encouraged. Industries situated in these delectable provincial centres can, more easily than the crowded city, furnish sound and pleasurable environments for their workers. The word “provincial” is often used to denote a certain type of narrowness of outlook, but with one or two boyish exceptions I have found just as progressive views and accumulated stores of experience in places like Wanganui as auy-where else. Then there is the all important phenomenon of the advantages of locality. Canning works should be near the orchards, wood-working plants near the tall timber, soap works near the sources of tallow and pumice, woollen mills near the flocks and so on. The last illustration suggests that Wanganui should have half a dozen woollen mills, for its pastoral production figures are stupendous. It is the fourth wool sale centre in the whole Dominion and had the distinction of having nearly one-third of the total “carryover” in the years of the depression, showing that the district had the largest proportion in New Zealand of primary producers able to smile at their bankers.

I have reserved for the last part of this article the feature of Wanganui which is as distinctive on the man-made side of its being, as the river in its natural endowment. Wanganui page 50 page 51 is a grove of graceful temples of education. Without exception, these buildings are of aesthetic perfection and architectural beauty. We show, for instance, the primary school at Aramoho with its tasteful gardens, and, of course, open-air swimming bath, only one, let it be noted, of fourteen in the city. The Technical College Hostel is unique in the Dominion, and our picture shows its severe but noble beauty. An oak-lined avenue branching from the main thoroughfare leads to the Wanganui Collegiate School whose old boys have attained distinction in every walk of life and in every part of the Empire. It sends up to Oxford and Cambridge an annual quota of students comparable with most of the English pubilc schools, and takes its place with the greatest schools under the Southern Cross. The gravely lovely chapel is only one of its array of superb buildings that stand about the splendid playing fields. The Wanganui Girls’ College, The Technical College, are also noble piles, and there are many other well-known establishments, the St. George Preparatory School, the Marist Brothers', the Friends, and St. Mary's Convent.

On the gentle slopes of the hill that rises immediately out of the town, stands a trio of buildings without peer in the Dominion. First there is the majestic Sargent Art Gallery, a shrine worthy of its exquisite contents. No city of less than five times the population of Wanganui can claim such a cultural treasure-house. In line on the same brow of Pukenamu is the most modern public library in these southern lands. It is an artistic delight, a lovely thing of multitudinous windows and all permeating light. As is the logical result of the investiture of Wanganui in all these ways of enlightment, the reading standard of the city is exceptionally high. For good measure, there is the Alexander Museum, a veritable storehouse of wonders and historic treasures. Enumeration is impossible in the space I have and I have tried to just give a shadowy sketch of this distinctive personality of the city of Wanganui. In whatever direction one looks, the utilitarian scene of every-day life is relieved by the graceful outline of some building devoted to cultural purposes.
(Rly. Publicity photo.) The Wanganui River as it flows through the Parakino Valley, North Island, New Zealand.

(Rly. Publicity photo.)
The Wanganui River as it flows through the Parakino Valley, North Island, New Zealand.

This aspect of life is as pre-ponderant in Wanganui as in Boston or Cambridge and invests the river city with an atmosphere which is its own; which permeates and elevates the beauty of the place and ensures it a destiny of worth and dignity.

For some reason, not altogether clear, Wanganui has not rejoiced in any regular annual festivals. The enterprising body known as the Tourist and Development League is effectively remedying this, and at Christmas and New Year the river city will be en fete. Skilful use is being made of every advantage the city possesses, and a full week of gaiety contains, inter alia, rowing races, the New Zealand Championship motor boat races, Maori canoe racing, cycling, greyhound racing, axemen and surf clubs; indeed, everything that relates to carnival. I can imagine no more satisfying way to spend a holiday than to be in Wanganui at this time, or (as my last word) any other time.

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