1940-02-03 — Page 10

STOCK REDUCING

SALE

NOW PROCEEDING -

DON'T MISS THESE BARGAINS!

CHILDREN'S WOOLLEN SHAWLS

Colours & White. Usually $3.75.

SALE PRICE $1.95

THE CHINA MAIL, FEBRUARY 3, 1940

NIGHT CONVOY PULLS IN

The barrows and the danglers stand, down is a solid block of lorries.

against one side of the loading bank at the Bouts-Tillotson London depot, the boodlers against the other.

It's

a lorry burning out, : Soldiers from a camp have been helping unload it. There is a smell of stewed fruit. The bank is piled with every size The block clears and the convoy and shape of parcel, box and bale. spreads out again, jockeying for posi- Barrows are ten and twenty-ton | tion. The soldiers at the road-side are lorries, ocean liners of the road; dan-munching pears. glers are trailers; and the boodlers the Different parts of the road have small collection and delivery vans different names. This stretch, the which feed them.

Three hundred tons of merchandise will vanish into the black-out from this bank to-night bound for every part of the country.

For

Another 300 tons will arrive. Thirty lorries out, thirty in. night traffic is heavier since the war.

It is 7 p.m. when ARTHUR DYKE

CHILDREN'S WOOLLEN OVERCOATS (they call him "Tea-cake") takes out

(British Made) Usually $13.50.

SALE PRICE $7.50

CHILDREN'S 2-PCE WOOLLEN SUITS

Usually $10.50 & $6.50. SALE PRICE $6.50 & 4.50

CHILDREN'S WOOLLEN SHORTS Usually $2.75.

SALE PRICE $1.75

HUNDREDS OF OTHER SIMILAR BARGAINS

NOW AVAILABLE AT

YEE SANG FAT

& CO., LTD.

"EDINBURGH” CUT CRYSTAL

HAND CUT BY SCOTTISH CRAFTSMEN We confidently present this Crystal as being the finest obtainable anywhere.

A PLEASURE TO THE EYE,

A JOY TO POSSESS,

EASY ON THE PURSE.

GEORGE FALCONER & CO., LTD.

PEDDER STREET.

EAT AT —

TELEPHONE 22143.

Jimmy's Kitchen

INEXPENSIVE SATISFYING

Bringing Up Father

YEP-I'M ONE OF THE BEST GUIDES IN THE CITY OF DAY TON - 1 GAN SHOW YOU ALL

OF THE PRINCIPAL THINGS TO SEE IN A DAY-IF.WE START NOW-

เห

FINE-YOU'RE HIRED - I'LL SIT ME WIFE- WAIT RIGHT HERE-

YES-DEAR-WE ARE ON THE 30 ALL THE TIME- UH-HUH- WE ARE TO SEE THE SIGHTS IN DAYTON TODAY-OH- YES -ÏVE BOUGHT A. LOT OF CLOTHES-

to-morrow

No. 503, the first twenty-two-ton solo for the north. At 6.30 morning, while it is still dark, he will pull into Manchester, 200 miles, twenty cigarettes, two cups of tea away.

only one where the old country road with high hedges has not yet been swallowed by arterial tarmac, is call- ed "The Rut.”

Here is "Sleepy Valley," where the old road still runs for a stretch be- side the new one and has not been turfed in. Drivers often pull in to it for a sleep.

SID'S PLACE is just briskening up at one o'clock when I drop off, there to wait for the first solo down, whom ARTHUR will signal to pick me up.

White oil-cloth on the tables. A log stove, darts board and penny ma- The black-out is inside the cabin chine. Apple tarts, ples, doughnuts, under a glass as well as out. Only'a faint, luminous stewed fruit, custard glow from the figures on the speedo- slab: bottled sweets on the shelves. meter. The seat is as upright as A Conversation 19 technical but cathedral stall, but roomler. And hot- | colourful. Humour is strictly below

the bonnet.

ter.

ARTHUR is fifty-one. He has been night driving for fifteen years.

"Where's Archie?" "Asleep in his cabin down the road Turned out with two burst tyres. nice again, ain't it, eh?"

Since the war he has been driving five trips-1,000 miles a week. Two up, two down, and on the Afth 0 "Hitler and 's 'ole bloomin' army change-over at half-way with the couldn't bloomin' well force me to first down-driver, so he can spend the take that bloomin' barrow on that week-end in London, where he lives. bloomin' trip. I told him straight." He gets £1 a trip, making £5 a week.

"Your back tyre's alight, my man, The 110 horse-power engine over he says to mc. Drive on to that which we sit roars up imperceptible water-tank down the road. Help gradients through dark, deserted Lon- | yourself, I says to him. I've got 200 don streets.

gallons of petrol on board. I'm 'op-

The war and the black-out have ping it.” not made much difference to ARTHUR, but there have been changes.

Makes the night a bit longer when it's black all the way. Plenty of com- pany though. Lot of R.A.F. chaps wanting lifts north. Can't afford the fares on their pay. But you won't see many lorry girls. Went off the roads a long time ago. Birmingham Lil and Coventry Kate were the last.

Hour after hour the glistening black ribbon of road slips under the cabin windows,More lorrles Join us. We move in convoy. All the same way. Some are cargo boats. We are a Queen Mary.

ARTHUR winks his headlights to pass. The bobbing rear light ahead signals back. Once we are in front the headlights behind signal "You're clear of me. You can pull across now." Our rear light winks "Thanks,

mate."

Thirty miles up the road we stop at BILL'S CAFE for "the best cup of tea on the road." Tea, and hot bacon sandwiched between thick slices of fresh bread.

Bill Ellis, in No. 499, is the first solo down.

BILL is thirty. He has been five years on nights. He left a northern dock at 7.30 last evening. It is now 2 a.m. He will be in at 6.30,

He doesn't like the black-out. He Agures it this way:re

·

The new headlights give you no- thing like twenty-five yards, and you need room to pull up a twenty-two | ton lorry. So you've got to take 2 risk. Horses and cows on the road "are the worst.” One"put"a"big wagon” into a ditch only this week. A proper | pile-up it was.

BILL never finds it monotonous on the roads at night.

It's like this. You get to know the road like the back of your hand after a month on it. We run so regular, like trains, that I never carry a watch. I can always tell the time by what I am passing.

But there's always something dif- ferent on the road, different wagons to recognise, different things.

From four o'clock onwards all traffic is going our way again. Even the lorries, browsing like droves of After eleven o'clock lorries begin to prehistoric monsters with ... dim gig- pass us coming down. Midnight Is lamp eyes along the grass verges out- the peak. Two seventy-mile stretches | side pull-ups, all point south. of traffic, converging from north and Two minutes after six-thirty · BILL south, pass in the centre of England | turns his 110 horses Into the London between eleven and three every night. | yard, ten and a half · hours and two There's a glow up the road. We minutes with half an hour's stop- pull up. In a minute the road up and since leaving the northern depot.......

8 HOURS LATER

AND I HAVE SIX NEW EVENING GOWNS - IM ANXIOUS TO GET HOME TO WEAR THEM-HOW'S YOUR MOTHER AND --

By George McManus

IT'S TOO DARK

START OUT NOW-

ANY

SEE

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