FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 96, 14 July 1927, Page 10

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN'’ I THE PRICE OF COAL Sixpence a toil has been added by the colliery proprietors to the price of coal at Newcastle, the great coal centre of New' South Wales. “Small coal” is now 20s a ton, which, to New Zealanders, sounds like giving it away. Doubtless the extra sixpence has been added to help pay the New South Wales child endowment, to which the employers must contribute. It will cause no pangs to the wood and coal merchant, who should have an excellent excuse to increase his rates by 6d a hundredweight. WHAT A HEAL "BREEZE" IS A feeble dispute at the Mount Roskill Road Board meeting a night or two ago was described, in an awed heading, by a morning contemporary as a “breeze.” Verbal disagreements at council used to be disregarded in Australia. It was only when things grew really lively that the reporters sat up and took notice. “Liar!” was generally the signal to awaken, and when fists proved insufficiently damaging, good use was made of the chairs. Donnybrook had nothing on the meeting of a Sydney suburban council when, councillors decided to differ in the days when the Look-Out Man used to report them. “Bloody but. unbowed,” the warring councillors used to drink each other’s health from the Mayoral cupboard when the argument was. adjourned—and hostilities would be resumed at the next meeting when the question of who was to pay for the broken furniture came up for discussion. Sometimes a ratepayer or two would stroll in and lend a hand—with the said hand full of road-metal. Some of the reporters used to be “district” men, paid by their newspapers at so much a line. The more lurid the language and the fiercer the fighting, the greater the lineage; therefore, the reporters used to welcome these rows. In fact they have even been accused of engineering them for the sake of “copy.” The Look-Out Man is in a position to give this canard an unqualified denial. HADIO-ING- W.E.A. LECTURES Still another use for wireless! After the meeting of the W.E.A. class at Devonport last evening there was an informal discussion on the advisability of approaching the Broadcasting Company to have arrangements made for broadcasting some of the W.E.A. lectures. It was agreed that the association was doing beneficial educational work and that its circle of influence would be widened by the use of radio; that many people who do not worry much over educational and political matters would appreciate an occasional opportunity of listening-in on such topics, and that it would be an advantage to the wireless company. The executive of the W.E.A. is to be asked to take up the proposition with the Broadcasting Company. This proposal should well suit the programme of the Minister of Education, who pleads Government poverty for the meagre financial rations he is serving out to the W.E.A. It should also provide a useful hint for the department. Since Cabinet has cut down its grant, why not close up the bush schools and impart lessons by radio? The initial cost would only be that of installing a wireless set in the home of each pupil. Not all the parents would object.

■JOANHA AND HER BOX Long, long ago—more than 100 years ago—there lived in England one Joanna Southcott, a domestic servant, of Devonshire, who was also by way of being a prophetess. She went the way of all flesh shortly after she had announced she was to become the mother of the second Christ; but only the other day, 113 years later, there was opened in Church House, Westminster, a sealed box. which was supposed to contain a plan for the salvation of England. Though Bishop Grantham, who was present at the long-delayed ceremony, declared the procedure to have been “unilluminating,” inside the box was found a book, dated 1796, with the luminous title, “Surprises of Love, or an Adventure in Greenwich Park.” But there was no sign of the plan. Followers of the cult of Joanna declare that it is in another box, in a secret hiding place, but that Joanna had decreed it was to be opened only in the presence of 24 bishops. It is not likely that 24 holy men of the rank specified will allow their curiosity to conquer their discretion. Peculiar pranks have been played on bishops before to-day, and the lady who packed away the “Surprises of Love” for the edification of far-off future generations might possibly have conceived something even more surprising for an assemblage of two dozen gaitered ecclesiastics. Some of the prophets of the past had queer ideas of humour —notably the joker who called the wild bears out of the wood to tear to pieces the boys who had teased him. No, no, Joanna!