Citizens Say

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 267, 1 February 1928, Page 10

Citizens Say

(To the Editor.)

QUEEN street traffic Sir, — I noticed in your motor pages last night a recommendation that parking restrictions, in Queen Street should be tightened up. To me, as a Southerner, used to the stricter methods of the Southern cities, the slackness in Auckland is amazing. I know of no other city where motors are allowed to turn in a main street, as in Auckland. You would think that Queen Street was the main street of Pokeno, instead of the main street of Auckland. For the existing policy of the traffic department, particularly with regard to traffic control at intersections, I have nothing but praise. The traffic police on point duty are the best I have seen in New Zealand or Australia, but it is time something was done about Queen Street and its “Rafferty Rules.” SOUTHERNER. .. BETTER BUTTER Sir,— I see that an authority has been airing his opinion on the causes of poor quality butter. In the old days before we had milking machines, and hand-milking was the order of the day, butter sold as well as, if not better than, it does to-day on the London market. Our milking machines are, in my opinion, a great factor in the production of poor butter. It does not matter how much you clean your machine there is always a flavour of rubber. The taste or smell gets into the hot milk as it goes through the rubber pipes to the separator. It is well known that hot milk is quick to take up any flavours from the machine. Of course, I know that handmilking with a big herd of cows is now out of the question. COW MILKER. STREET CORNER ARTISTS Sir, — Perhaps someone can explain to me through your ever valuable columns the psychology—peculiar on appearances—which causes men to talk themselves hoarse Sunday morning, afternoon and night on the street corners of the city, without any apparent object—not even using their vocal powers as a prelude to rattling a few lonely coins in a box under one’s nose. Occasionally they draw a few listeners, but last Sunday morning I was particularly impressed with two men upon whom I came across at an out-of-the way corner, singing lustily, if somewhat unmusically, and with not another soul in sight. The quietlyworking gentleman who traps his prey in a quiet corner with suggestions that, carried out, would inevitably spoil perfectly good trousers creases, I can understand in some degree; the other variety gets past me. PEACE. TOO MANY RESTRICTIONS Sir, — May I, through your columns, discuss the amendment to the Shops Act, which will come into force next month? The small shopkeeper has received another New Year’s gift from the tobacconists, which will mean a big expense if they continue to sell tobacco and cigarettes with, their other

commodities (fruit, sweets. Ice cream, etc.). According to the original Act shopkeepers who stocked these lines had to screen them off from other goods, the sale of which enabled them to remain open. Apparently the screening-off did not work, and the trade flourished. However, by this amendment all shopkeepers who carry these lines must have a separate entrance leading to the tobacco counter. This will mean a big expense. These side-lines were a big help to the small shopkeeper, and it seems to me that the new amendment will mean that many shopkeepers will have to close, and join the ranks of the unemployed. At present it is difficult to know what business to open up owing to the prevalence of restrictions. The whole thing spells empty shops. LIVE AND LET LIVE. MAORI NAMES Sir, — I think the chief trouble about the mis-pronunciation of Maori names is not that people do not know how to pronounce them, but that they are invariably suspected of a laborious pedantry if they pronounce them correctly. The newcomer to the city must always note that Auckland is notoriously careless over the pronunciation of its melodious Maori names. “Manger©” and “The Mauk,” are bad epough, but what of those people, and they are numerous, who persistently call Rangitoto “Rangitotey?” All through the Dominion a careless attitude toward the Maori language has developed, and it is becoming too late to stay the tide. Time is another factor that comes into the question. You can say “Motutap” in a lot less time than it takes to dwell on the soft cadences of “Motutapu.” In Hawke’s Bay they have a village called Paki Paki, and they call it, rapidly, “Pukki-Puk,” and they call the Tuke Tuke River the “Tooki-Took,” to rhyme with “chook.” Up the Wanganui River and in the King Country, where they treat names like Hiruharama (Jerusalem) and Tokaanu with the respect they deserve, they are more considerate of the Maori tongue. But elsewhere, I fear, it is too late to stay the tide. “OAT-A-HOO.”