THE EVENING RUSH.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 230, 28 September 1929, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE EVENING RUSH.

READING IN TRAMS. SOME OBSERVATIONS. (By BARBARA BUSBY.) It -was the rush hour, and the car that I simply must catch was almost bulging with occupants by the time I got on to the step. "Moy<* right along in front there, please," shouted the conductor, and several occupants took a niggardly step forward, so that I was -able to join the strap-hangers near the door. In the act of attaching myself to an overhead handle, I banged my basket into somebody's book. A young lady in a navy blu6 hat with a touch of pink, was reading book .called "Brown Sugar," on one of the sideway stats to my left. She cast me a reproachful glance, and immediately resumed "Brown Sugar." An elderly a entleman seated beside he- was reading it too, but I really don't him for there was nothing else for him to look at except other people's waistcoats and umbrellas. ...--.--. Eeading Under Difficulties. It's extraordinary now people will read in a tram., Further forward I could see a gentleman with gold-rimnied astigmatics and a grey moustache absorbed in a paper called "The Budget," l while .across, the aisle from him a man with very pronounced features was reading under exceptional difficulties. He was by no means -a small man, and he held upon his lap a large leather bag. (By dint of tucking his knees well under, placing his book on top of the bag, and keeping his head well down to avoid the overhead traffic of upstretched arms, he was just able to turn the leaves. He was reading a book called "The Crouching Beast." "The Budget," hove\er, was fortunate in having secured a seat near a window, and so was immune from the swaying traffic, in the aisle. He could twist his paper into any shape he desired without hindrance, and his progress was rapid, until at last, yitu a snap of his spectacle case, he rose to leave with an air of superiority. But "Brown Sugar, and "The Crouching Beast" went on. .After a while the car swung round a bend into suburban areas. Ducking my head when there was room to;do so, I caught glimpses through the windows, of flying tree-tops waving their arms despairingly in the winter wind. It was an eerie night. A lowering rain-cloud enwrapped old Maungawhau, (I beg your pardon, I mean Mount Eden), while the sun, disgusted., was departing in a final shoot of red. But the leaves of "Brown Sugar" turned steadily on. Why do people read in a crowded tram car. I've tried it, and after carrying a book round with me all day, I find I read about three-quarters of a page. I've even tried to make tram car time catch up on the newspapers. It is one of my designs to read two newspapers a day, and I usually succeed— until the week-end. Then I get beaten. So I cut out long strips and pack them in my purse bag to read in the tram. There's such a lot that one really ought not to miss in the newspapers. But in the end I generally have to give my strips a special night, for I feel that the moments one spends in a tram car are such a valuable opportunity for relaxation. One can browse —let the mind lie fallow, in preparation for future fertility, as it were—and there's always so much to look at. Rebound Against Routine. I once saw a man in a nve o'clock tram, with a bag in one hand, and his paper held in the hand that grasped the strap overhead, and no matter how much the driver shook and rattled the car, he never once lost his place. His body swayed from side to side, but his eyes clung to the line he was on. How he got his paper open at the sporting page I cannot imagine. He must have done that before he got in. But he set me wondering still more why people read in tram cars against such odds. Is this persistent turning towards romance immediately leisure begins a rebound against frightful routine, an impulse of the soul toward higher lights? If so it is one of the most precious things in life? Or is it only to forget the tram and its crowds that we read? The five o'clock tram is certainly not a place of comfort, and yet, how we rush it, rather than spend even a few minutes longer in the city to avoid the crush.