NAPIER'S YESTERDAYS

Hawke's Bay Herald-Tribune, Issue 25, 13 February 1937, Page 9

NAPIER'S YESTERDAYS

Qharles

Price i

BY

! CONVIVIAL STORIES

XVI, | There are few people who have not got inany of whai I call * i eottvivial ' * stories to tell, for sometimes people reach a stage in cOnviviality when they say and do many amusing thingSi HOW' ever, in the main conviviality is biit the very hne expression of sociability and friendliness, attd it &S only ORea" vsionally that the striet botilidrs of tnod4 e nation are overstepped in this friendlj intercourse. In recounting some amus* ing stories of this description it will be readily understood that no names will be mentioned of those to Whom the stories may directly refer. Fine fellows all of them that I knew, nnd m&ny of them I was proud to have *■> friends. Not any less did I esteem these friends because on some rare and special bce K» sion they jnay have allowed themselves to partake of rather too rmiph hospitality. Three incidents relate to the satne person, & very line old friend, when I was a emall ' boy. This old chap, a porter and handyman at the EnipifO Hotel, lived next to my part»nt8 ' home in Carlyle street. His baeh was a one-» roomed hoiise, with porch at the back, There was a lock to the front door, but only a latch to the b^ck doof) so that the 'old fellow could get into his house without opening the front door. Oeca'sionally the old chap got a^lrlfle exhilarated and when he did get that way was rather unsteady on his feet and had also a habit of talking to him» self. On one occasion I had been up to the "Herald" office with my father's snpper, he having hurrled away without it, and on returning home I saw this old fellow juSt ahead of me as I neared the Clive Square end of Tennyson street. He was walking very unsteadily, and a« he stepped up the slight incline which did duty as a footpath, he stumbled slightly and dropped something. He recovefed his equilibrium with a quick, jerky inOvement, and then stood over the article he had dropped (which happened to be the key of his front door), and audibly addressed it. He said, "T've dropped you, hie, but if I stoop to pick you up I'll fall, because, hic, I'm drunk, and I don't need you; I can, hic, get in without you. He toddled on home. Following behind him, I picked up his key, restored it to him next morning, and wae rewarded with sixpence for finding it. On another occasion I went to the old fellow 's cottage to borrow a candle. This old man had been a footman in the Old Country, and he had nailed a horseshoe to his back door just fasteued by one nail so that it served as a door-kuocker as well as being an emblem of good luck. This will explain a solo convereation which I overheard as I approached the cottage. I heard the old chap who was sitting on a bench in his porch, say as I entered tho gate: "I, hic, wonder if the family are home yet. I'll knock again." He got up slowly from his seat and, using the horseshoe as a knocker, knocked three times rather loudly, Waiting a while to see if there was anyone approaching, he muttered; ' ' Strahge, family out; maids all out too, I suppose. I don't feel like moving, so I will just lie *3own on this bench until somebody comes home." At this stage I entered the porch, and said: "Please, Mr., could you lend mother a candle?" Looking at me in rather a blank way, he said: "Lend you a candle, lad, certainly I would if I was at home." "But you are home," I said, "This is your back door." He looked again. "Blesh my soul, so it is ,hic. Wonder how I forgot that?" With that he got up from the bench, lifted the latch, entered his stuay, dining room, sitting room, and bed room, and lent me the candle. The third occurred just at that deep twilight time that the Scots call ' ' ayant the twall, ' ' and I was returning home, my usual route, and incidentally the route generally used by my. old friend. I had just reached Denty Wilson's when 1 noticed the old fellow just ahead of me. As he approached the corner of Tiffen's fence, at the opening which leads up to St. Paul's Chureh, he aspied a dim oufillne just on the edge of the footpath. It was really a telegraph pole, but the old chap evidently mistook it for a very tall man, for he stood still for an instaut, and then, not quite sure of the figure's good intentions, addressed it pacillcally: "Escuse^me, please sir, but would you mind stepping aside, hic, to let me pash?" No reply. "H'm, deaf perhas. _ I '11 ask him again. ' ' . Loilder this time: "Escuse me sir, again I ask you, will you, hie, be so kind as to step aside, and let me pash, please? jf you don't, I'll pash in spite of you." No reply being forthcoming the old fellow approached the ' iigure with extended arms, clasped the telegraph pole, worked his way carefully to the other side, then letting go, he triumphantly said; "There; I told you Pd pash, in spite of you." Another old chap that lived further down Carlyle street was an old man whose wife took in washing and laundry work, the old fellow calling for and taking home the clothes in baskets on a iong wheelbarrow after the style of a railway hand truck. Sometimes a chum of mine and I would be given a penny each to "wheelbarrow for daddy," we taking it in turns to do the wheeling. The old chap, on his way home, generally called in at the Exchange Hotel, now the Carlton Private Hotel, opposite Magill's shop, and had what he called a "nobbler" of Old Tom, a brand of gin. He was quite a wellknown customer. One evening, the sound of the wheelbarrow having been heard a long way off, some sheepstat.ion hands at the bar said tn tho proprietor, Mr, Harry Fletclier: "Harry, have some kerosene readv in an Old Tom bottle, and give it to daddv whep he comes in. We '11 pay for anything he asks you for, if be makes a fuss " Daddy duly appeared, was handed a good big nobbler from an Old Tom bottle, and swallowed it without taking his lips away from the glass. As soon M the liquid had all

I bhen swallowedj hewevefj the old inad Bjduttered; "That w&b kerdseae you gave me, Harry. You uever made that mistake bet'ore. You '11 have to give me a good etifif nobbler of Old Tom to take the taste qut of my moutht" "Dive him two, Harry. ' ' said oue of the meHj " and I >11 pay. " "Oli. it's a jake of yours is it?" said daddy. "1 thought it was a mistake on ft&rry's p&rt." Daddy received and fiwaildWed his two hobblera of Old Tom with ©vldeat re« lish. "How do you feel, Daddy?" a'sked one of the jokers. "All right," said daddy, laeonically, "I'd swailow a glass of keroseae any time to have glasses of Old Tom affcerw&rds." Another story refers to a very well* kaown old Napier identity, who was here until a much later stage than the flrst old ehap 1 referred to, but llko him this - old fellow also had a habit of talking to himself when in hie eups. , He was rather a big m&n and walked quite straight as far as alignment wae concerned, but with a slight lureh for* ward, so that it was eosy to upiet his balanee. One evening, just ae the town etoek was striking eleven, the night watehman (a former- constable named Fo ster) and the eonstable on duty at the timo were standing together in the doorway of the Clothing F&ctory pre* mises at the eorner of Hastings nnd Tennvson streets, when they heard this old fellow Coming along Hastings street from the direetion of the Cairn donian, and talking to himself. "Lend ua your baton," said Forster to the constable. "aiid I'll give the old joker a tap on the crust and give him a scare. " The baton was handed over, and, reaching out from the darkness of the doorway as the old chap pas3cd, the night watchman gentiy tapped him on the top of the head with the baton. The tap was only a light one I was told, but the scare was not. The old fellow lurehed forward and fell flat on the footpath, yelling, "Thieves! Hickpockets!" as he did so. The two alarmed COnspirators in the joke slipped out of the doorway in double*quick time, running in opposite direetione. Very shortly, in response to the old fellow 's shouts, the policeman and the night watchman appeafed ott the scene from different points. Asking. what the matter was the old man told a story of being set upon by two burly fellows who had knocked him doww with a bludgeon, or the butt end of a gun, but had disappeared when he yelled. "Which way did they go?" he was asked. "I don't knoyr," said the old chap. "What were they like?" "Both big, I think, but I really did not get a good look at them." "Did thev take anything?" "No, I yelled, and they cleared out at oncfc. " '/Well, we'll go and look for them," said the two men, "Don't both leave me at once," said the old fellow. "Well, T'll go round this block," said the policeman, ' ' and when T como baclt you, Forster, can have a look for the two scoundrels. ' ' / The search, of course, was tmavail* ing. "Would you like me to see you home, Mr. said the night watchman. "Yes, I would, Forster, if you don't mind. I know I've had a drop or two too mueh, and those men jiight be waiting for me somewhere." So the night-watchihan, who had tapped the old fellow on the head, escorted him home and was rewarded with a tip of ten shillings. On being asked if he wished the matter rfeported to the Police Station, the pld chap said he would rather not. He had got off lightly and did not want to go into Court and admit to having been over-eelebrating. On another oecasion the same old fellow called in at an hotel on his way home, and there met one of his sons who had just attained his majority and was trying to establish a reputation for being a roal "man." Said the old man to the young one, with a sorrowful shake of the head, "This won't do my boy, burning the candle at both ends, you know, it won't do.'' "Well, old 'un," was the reply, "you have been burning them much longer than I have. You can't have much middle left to burn now." Another story refers to a man who did not often celebrate. He was a big man and had been a very fine Rugby player, but when he retired from the game he had put on girth and weight very quickly. Going home from the office about 1 a.m. one day, I saw this man on his hands and kneea trying to get back on to the footpath at the foot of Shakespeare hill. He had apparently slipped over the edge of the path, which was very uneven just there, and he had fallen down. Hie did not seem able to get up, for when he gingerly put one foot up and tried to raise himself his tummy got in tho way. Recognising him, I said, "Shall I help you up, Mr — — ." Looking at me he said, "I wish you would, my lad." I took hold of his arms with the intention of trying to lift him, but he said, "Don't take me that way, Price, I'm too heavy for you. Just roll me over, will you, old chap." T laughed, but I put both hands under his tummy, I did ^roll Him over" on to the footpath, and then, with the help of the fence to which he clung, I managed to get him into an -upri'ght position. I rather dubiously offored my eseort to see him home, inwardly wonderihg if T could manage him, but he said, "No tliank you, old boy. My pal has gone down to the Post Office to get a cab: he'll be back in a minute. " •Tust thpn Dan Cotton 's cab came into view, and I left the' convivial one to his chum to look after. One evening, when temperance lec tures were quite a frequent source of entertainment, I went to report one Buch entertainmept which wfls boing given in the old Protestant Hall, in Tennyson street, opposite the prescnt" site of the Muuicipal Theatre. On Teaching the hall I ' saw a man very much intoxicated trying to hold himself up by leaning against the wall, alongside the entrance door. As I carae'up, the lecturer, a venerable looking old' man, al«o came on the scene. To him

saia tne mtoxichtea oue, *»nay, are you the, hic, lecturer?" "I am," said the other in a deep voice. "Well, what about giving me a couple of bob to come up on the platform, hie, with you?" ' ' Have you on the platform, and give you two shillings? Why, you're drunk man. Why should I give you two shillings?" "Yesh; I know, hic, I'm drunk; but I thought you, hic, might like me to come up, hie, as a shoekiug example. " ..However, he was not engaged as a "shoeking example," though he looked the part. Late one Saturday night I was coming along Tennyson Street, when I heard the town cloek striking eleven, and decided to hurry to Reading's restaurant and have a pie and coffee before the restaurant closed. Just as 1 was passiiig the entrance to Church Lane, an elderly man whom I recognised as a station overseer whom I knew by sight, and \vho iVas walking along Tennyson sireet in the ihiddle of tho road, said, "Would you mind telliug me, sir, if I am on the right road to Mrs e Schaeffer's boarding house." "You nman Mrs Bourgeois's boarding' house,"' I said, for at that time Mrs Bourgeois had a boarding house at the end of Tennyson street, where the Baptist Church now is. "No, I mean Mrs Schaeffer's boarding home," the man replied. "But Mrs Schaeffer's boarding house is ih Hastings, and • this is Napier," I answered him. "What, didn't I catch that train then?" the man asked with astonishment. "If you did, you must have dropped the catch, ' ' I said, ' ' for you are in Napier now."