ROUND ABOUT

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 2, Issue 162, 20 May 1940, Page 5

ROUND ABOUT

"Oh, how far arc you going?" "Whakatane." "That's the next stop." I walked through to get my bags. The musician was playing "Danny Boy," the fellow I had first approached in reference to the weather Avas vieAving the rain with gloomy satisfaction, the farmer Avas mumbling something about the mud and the guaranteed price and the Avomen and children Avere still hard at it. As the train drew out, I heard, "Mind your 'ead, Albert, or you'll get it bashed in."

(By Aitchel) Have you ever been on that ghastly train journey from Hamilton to Whakatanc West. I have. Heaven help the poor unfortunates who have to come all the way from Auckland. Just imagine that—9 a.m. to 7 p.m. ( 111 never forget my harrowing experience. It was on my first visit to Whakatanc. fi $ ft * In the first place it would be just as well to mention that I invariably travel 2nd Class because usually one finds some company. I boarded the train at Hamilton at somewhere about 12.15. I was in the best of spirits—who wouldn't be. coming to Whaaktane?—and not earing overmuch about the ordeal ahead. A newspaper and a magai zine lasted until we had left Te Aroha, at about 2 p.m. and then ? i began to cast about for someone to whom I could mention the weather. The Weather Fails Me. I saw a likely chap. "Rather beastly Avcather we've been having," I ventured. He turned a sombre eye in my direction . "It is punishment for the sins of the world," he said,, and I discontinued the conversation. I was fright ened that he might be going as far as I was. I saw another chap. The rain'll do some good," I suggested. "Do some good! Whcjn I left the farm yesterday the cows were up to their noses in mud. And look at it, it's still raining! We never get a fair spin, we formers. There's always something unsuitable, either the weather or the guaranteed price . . . and talking about the guaranteed price . . ." \ I moved away. Unfortunately I went from bad to worse. Mind Your 'ead, Albert. We had pulled into Paeroa and I had the opportunity of replenishing my stock of reading material. That, I thought, would see the journey out. More people entrained and the carriage filled. A Plumpish woman, and her son Albert occupied one and a more plumpish woman and her daughter Agnes made lull use of the other.

I tried to read. I had no chance. I was annoyed by Albert's habit of flicking orange pips at me, and then Agnes, who was -apparently bred in a tougher school, threw the peel. Albert's mother stopped one of my best withering glances and the target practise ceased for a while. I was then entertained with a graphic and picturesque description of Albert's last illness and the plans he had made for himself when he was a man. Incidentally these plans in no way coincided with those I had made for Albert. I think I dozed. It must have been somewhere near Tauranga that I heard that yell, "Mind your 'ead, Albert, or you'll get it bashed in." I had been thinking very much along the same lines but the caution was howled because the son was attempting a closer view of the rails and was Avell out of the window. Oh, Danny Boy. Tauranga gave me a brief respite and I managed even to eat one of the railway pies in the seven minutes allowed. I was relieved to find a seat further from Albert but sighed resignedly when q chap the ✓ worse for wear and his musical friend sat nearby. The latter had a concertina and he needed little encouragement to demonstrate his abil ity. The encouragement was forthcoming from he under the weather, who pleaded with the genius to play "Danny Boy." However, the performance didn't stop at Danny. It continued on right through the family. "An' I sez to 'im, I sez . . ." boast-* ed the plump woman. "Did yer reelly!" responded the plumper woman. Journey's End. Pongakawa, Ohinepanea, Otamarakau, Pikowai and Matata were left behind. It had been dark for some time. I was feeling hungry, nervy, and quite depressed. After a whil;e I decided that anything would be for the better. We flew at a tremendous speed through a brilliantly illuminated station and I did not get a chance to see the name, but it looked like Edgecumbe. I had no idea how much further I had to go. But I was going to shift my quarters. I moved to the Ist Class car- : riage and when the guard came through I gave him half-a-crown* "That'll do for the difference in. fare," I said. [ (Continued foot of previous column)