RANDOM NOTES

Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 151, 22 March 1939, Page 10

RANDOM NOTES

Sidelights On Current

Events

(By Kickshaws).

Things are dreadfully wayward. If only Hitler could be made to go-slow and the waterfront fast.

It is stated that, when a man puts his money into a business, he likes to get something out of it. Nobody likes to see a fellow lose interest.

The problem of deteriorated land is said to be like a bit of tough steak. So far as land is concerned, it is the sort of stake to avoid.

The contention that the City of Wellington missed a bargain when it was offered the whole of the Rongotai area in 1873 for £2OO, has been borne out by time. The best that can be said for the bargain that was missed is that, some 99 years ago, the sale of Wellington proved, perhaps, a better bargain than any other deal. The first deed of purchase was dated September 27, 1839. Wellington harbour, with its islands and a large tract of back-country, was sold “in consideration of having received as a full and just payment for the same” certain trade goods. These included 100 red blankets, 100 muskets, 21 kegs of gunpowder, one cask of ball cartridges, 48 iron pots, two eases of soap, one case of pipes, two tierces of tobacco, 1200 fish hooks, 50 steel axes, several yards of cotton duck, calico and ribbon, 10 dozen looking-glasses, two pounds of beads, and one gross of Jews’ harps. One does not know whether to regret the good bargains or the bad, but here we are with a city worth millions.

We may regret our bad bargains in land in the early days, or acclaim the good bargains whatever we please, according to our conscience. Yet there are other places where bargains have proved as good, if not better. For example, in 1626, Manhattan, New York, was bought from the Indians for a total payment of £6. Considering the same area is now worth £2,000,009,000, the bargain must be considered fairly satisfactorily. Indeed, in 1803, France drove a bargain when her Lousiana territory changed hands for £3,090,000. It must be remembered when considering these bargains of the early days, that it was extremely problematical what would be the future value of the laud then changing hands. There are still areas which have increased only slightly in value over a period of a lifetime or even longer. Could Cook forsee the flourishing city just round the corner at the harbour heads —a locality which the vagaries of the winds denied him a view or even a peep of’- After all, anybody could have acquired the whole of Oriental Bay for under £lO6O if they had had sufficient foresight 80 years ago.

Mention 'of the missing of a good bargain on the part of the City of ■Wellington regarding Rongotai is a reminder of a rather too smart piece of work which occurred many years ago in Piccadilly, London. Every square yard of this area is valued at a fabulous sum. Many years ago a large slice of Piccadilly was sold Jor the remarkable figure of £3OO. This occurred when the land belonged to the King. By a series of fraudulent transactions of astounding impudence Piccadilly changed hands without the reigning monarch knowing anything about it. Moreover, further transactions occurred in which land bringing in revenues of £24,000 a year was sold for £17,000. Those who live in Vancouver, British Columbia, can recall deals of a similar nature, except that the transactions were not fraudulent. It is, however, a fact that 550 acres of Vancouver were once bought for £114; 11/8. Some idea of public opinion concerning the deal may be obtained from the fact that those who beard of the venture laughed at the three greenhoru Englishmen who had agreed to pay 4/- an acre for “worthless land.” Those 550 acres now constitute the heart of the city of Vancouver.

It is said that where lies the main street of Sydney today the land was exchanged in payment of a yoke of oxen and a few ploughs. Moreover, there died some few years ago in Guildford Workhouse, England, a man named James Cutterson Bratt. Some 50 years previously he had bought for £350 the whole of the land upon which now stands the city of Johannesburg. Mr. Pratt, unfortunately went the queer way that fate ordains sometimes. The Boer Republic was declared shortly after the deal went through. The property was confiscated and Mr. Pratt returned penniless to England. This perhaps is a reminder of the vagaries that occurred over ownership of land at Huntly, the well-known cort-mining district on the Waikato. It is a fact that the late Alexander Henry, the owner of all the land upon which now stands this prosperous mining township, sold the whole area for a small sum and moved to Hawke’s Bay. At the time nobody dreamed of the rich coal seams that lay under the ground in those parts. * * ♦

Mention of vast fortunes that have been made as a result of land changing hands, is a reminder of a little story that comes from Napier. All land does not always go up in price. There is a property in Napier, in fact, which is now valued at exactly one penny. That is the Government valuation. The truth is, that this one-twenty-seveuth of an acre lies on the top of (he cliff in Guy’s Road. As a result of earthquakes, the section now comprises the top of the cliff and a portion of the cliff face. It was valued at £1 in 1934. The owner, however, considered this too high. The area was put up for sale at the price of one penny. It failed to find a purchaser. The lower figure, therefore, became the new valuation. The consolidated rate on this property was more than its value, being 9d. in 1936, plus a further 5/- annually for water rates. This area of land, indeed, must be the only area iu New Zealand which is set down to pay 69 times its value every year iu rates. It must be admitted, in fairness to the borough, that the water rate charges were waived. Maybe readers know of other curious anomalies of this nature? When worthy Auckland cop and conscientous beak. By '■jure expurgatorius” and "jus divitinm” seek To keep that Queen of cities both innocent and pure. They place a legal ban upon some oldtime literature. And tho’ our secret sympathies will very likely go To that mediaeval scribbler, poor old Boccaccio, We honour virtuous Auckland —surely now an earthly Eden,, But hope and trust they never read “Decameron” in Dunedin. And may we send —at deadly risk of being dirked or shot, This little friendly tip to that fine city of the Scot. The poems of the Ayrshire bard, tho’ very smart and sporty. Are quite untit for adult men or maidens over forty. And if Otago’s capital our kind suggestion spurns, It’s surely up to Auckland to deal with Robert Burns. o—Elismae.