The Traveller.

Dunstan Times, Issue 992, 22 April 1881, Page 3

The Traveller.

FROM WELLINGTON TO CLYDE.

I cot on the 3 p.m. train for Chiistchurcli, and was soon on my way for that ])laco. A minute after leaving Lyttelton wo entered the tunnel, a stupendous and magnificent work carried out by Z\ir W. S. Moorhouse. I do not know the length of the tunnel, but it takes the train about three minutes to go through it. During that three minutes the passengets were nearly suffocated by smoke from the engine, and by an overpowering stench which emanated from a person who had put an enemy into his mouth to steal awav his brains. Doubtless, the enemy didn’t (ind any brains to steal, and returned discomfited. On the road to Christchurch wo passed through several unimportant townships ami villages. On neaiing the, city, the scenery was very good. We passed green fields, splendid mansions nestling in groups of poplars and blue-gums, and pretty little villas and cottages with long stretches of lawns and flower plots in front. A t last we arrived at Christchurch after a tediolis journey of about 25 minutes. 1 was struck by the magnificent appearance of the railway station. A Verandah stretches along the whole

length of the platform, on which are several conveniences in the shape of seats, etc. Directly we landed wo were assailed by hosts of newsboys,who tried to foist upon us their papers; etc. In the station building is to bo found the inevitable refreshment room and book stall. A t the firstnamed place, one can get almost any delicacy going—from a stale “barker” to a slice of lukewarm beef, cold, greasy gravy, and Watery potatoes. The platform is kept in excellent order, and the Work is carried out “silently but faithfully” under the supervision of an experienced superintendent. lireally think that the City of the Plains railway station is the best-conducted and best-managed Go vernment department in tlie colony. It is kept well-cleaned, the work (as I before said) is done quietly and without clatter, and everything runs a* evenly and smoothly as the works f an eight-day time-piece. Tlie officers, porters, and others employed are civil, obliging, well-conducted, and unostentatious ; and the guards do not at all presume upon their position, which is more than can be said of the employes of any other station or Government department in the colony. Of course, the hoy-e’erks the worst paid members of the service -are very pompous and presumptuous, but boys will be boys all the world over. It is a great pity that other Government institutions are not as well-con-ducted as is this railway station. Christchurch now possesses a tramway, consequently a tram was waiting outside the station for passengers by the train from Lyttelton, and into a car I climbed with my portmanteau. Soon after we started, the conductor came round for the tickets. Before he reached that portion of the car where I was sitting, however, I happened to look upwards, and what 1 saw there appalled me, and made a cold feeling rush up my back. What horrified me was a notice to this effect Tickets only given to passengers as change.” Here was I right on the horns of a dilemma. The smallest money I had on me was a L 5 note, and it was hardly good enough to take L 4 19s 9d worth of tickets in exchange for it. What should I dol I couldn’t borrow 3d from anyone in the car, as all the passengers were strangers to mo, and Ito them. I was aroused from my reverie by the guard saying to me—- “ Ticket, please, sir !” “ 1 haven’t one,” I replied, “ nor have 1 anything smaller than a fiver. Can you help me out of my difficulty r

“ Most certainly I can, sir. You give me your Lo note, and I’ll give ; you change in tickets.” 11 No, thank yon,” said I ; “ that won’t suit mq collect the other tickets and I’ll pay yon in a ■ moment.” I did this to gain time. I could not think how T should got out of the difficulty \t last, how- • ever, I determined to do what I had ■ often done when a school-boy—jump off the tram, and run 1- > r it. And I , did. I darted through the c i.r door, sprang from the platform,and land' don , my back. Jumping tip, I ran like the very D'el himself, and was beyond j the sight of the guard before ho had had time to stop the tram Escapades like the foregoing are ’ very common in Christchurch, and j in Wellington also Later on T saw an individual jump off a Christchurch • tram, but I also saw tb it the guard’s foot helped him to alight. Christchurch is built upon a swamp \ —at least, so rumor hath it. It is lo my idea the handsomest town in New Zealand. For prettiness, it beats ; Auckland, Wellington, Wanganui, j Dunedin, Invercargill aye, and ! pretty Cromwell, too. The streets of j Christchurch are broad, straight “ as | a die” as a rule; well kept, well j cleaned, and splendidly watered. The principal public nuisance in 1 Christchurch—its a, prevailing nuis- I anco in every town under the sun— is the cabbies. What with their extern- | tionale charges, insulting behaviour, and disgusting language, om- has his match, generally, when dealing with a John of the City of the Plains. Next to the cabbies as a nuisanc, j omc» that class of iadividn ds known , s “ the unemployed.” A word or wo about them. J maintain that more than half of those individuals who club together and call themselves “ the unemployed ” are not what (hey repre out themselves to bo. The mob meetings are “ all my eye,” to borrow an old expression. The ranks are tilled by | what I would call " the professional i loafer ” —men who are always to be I found in every town in the colony— I men who won't work when they get the opportunity, be the work ever so light or profitable, and who are an “ unnecessary ” evil in any city. I myself have offered some of the socalled unemployed employment, and the unvariable reply lias been—- “ What’s the screw, boss 1” Sometimes it has been as much as 1 Os. per day, and then the impudent rogues have said—“ Oh, that's not enough to give a man for a hard day’s work. I’ll do (ho work for 15a. a day, and you find me.” Ask one of these Unemployed to take a job at looking after horses, and he will reply—" No, thanks, mister. Horses are. slightly out of my lino.” If you offer a tradesman a job, he will say that he has no tools, or (if the ; job is in the country) the place is too . far away from Christchurch for him. i Such answers, I know from] e«pefL

ence are very Common—in fact, arc as common and plentiful as the loafers themselves. I am sure that if the Unemployed were really desirous of obtaining om ployraent, the Government would find them work somewhere. When they wore offered work at Weka Pass, how many of them accepted it 1 Why, out of 300; only about 26 “ made ” the Pass at the time at which they were supposed to be there. A few—-a very few—accepted work at Anfberleyj and a few others obtained employment in different parts of the colony. There are three kinds of work at which employment can always be had—viz., mining, Wood-cutting; and rabbitting. Certainly, it requires a little monev to get a good start at raining, but no* king is required by arabbitter or a w ■ -it cutter to “ set himself up in business ” beyond a dog and gun, or an axe. As 1 came through thu gold-fields, I remarked to a fellow passenger—- “ What an excellent field this would bo for sending the mighty unemployed to There seems to be plenty of work, and (if good hick) excellent pay.” Surely the Government would pinit free (..uses ro all those who expressed a. wish t> really obtain employment. Ours is not an unkind Government, and long before now free passes on railways and coaches have, scores ot times, been granted to deserving persons. More in my next TASMAN.