FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 325, 10 April 1928, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” DIFFERENT BILLIARDS In Russia billiards is different. You are not permitted to pot the Red. WITH SONG AND DANCE More than 2,000 Samoans gathered at Mulinuu yesterday to farewell General Sir George Richardson, the departing Administrator, with song and dance. Did they sing the old recruiting song, “We don’t want to lose you; but we think you ought to go.’? HORSE-OWNER'S “LUCA” Jack Ryan, who bred the winner of ! the Grand National Steeplechase and : then sold the horse, with his farm, I before leaving for America, is now ! bemoaning his “bad luck.” Some owners who competed at Ellerslie this Easter are also bemoaning—that they did not also sell their horses. QUICK CHANGE In America they marry, divorce and remarry so briskly that sometimes the one bouquet does for two weddings. In one case, the bride repented of her precipitancy, and the old husband became the new\ FOLLOWING NEW ZEALAND Britain has licensed bookmakers, and has just had one fined £1,680 for not having furnished weekly returns of his transactions. New Zealand delicensed them and made their calling illegal—and every now and then prosecutes one and fines him anything up to £3OO for being a bookmaker. We collect his licence fee and his income tax tlyough the police courts. “Get revenue somehow —but get it.” “ SPIRIT ” OF THE NAVY It is wrong to suggest that when Rear-Admiral Collard exclaimed, “Why, it’s old Dewar!” and sprang to his feet with hand extended, he was giving salute to a botlle, and not to Captain G. B. Dewar, who happened to have entered the hotel. This is the “spirit of the Navy,” it is explained; but it has always been understood that rum, not whisky, is the naval ration. On the other hand, knowing the extensive vocabulary of the admiral, it appears that the censor has been at work. There should be a very interesting missing word competition in the sentence cabled, “Why. it’s old Dewar!” * * * A DARING MAID “Be kind to me?” A middle-aged man gasped with astonishment as an attractive little lady r wearing the shortest of skirts, addressed him. It was at Cheltenham Beach, on Saturday, and to the best of his knowledge he had never before seen the charmer. Fearing he had not heard aright, he lifted his hat politely and craved her pardon. In dulcet tones she repeated the question: “You will be kind to me, won’t you?” Did she realise what she said, or was she mistaking him for someone else? At any rate no great harm could be done by assuring her that he would be kind to her. He did so, and she was satisfied. She was aged four years!

DOES HE MEAN MATCHES Some people are not as explicit as they might be. Mr. H. Lewis, general manager of the Commercial Union Assurance Company, emphasises that New Zealand, “reputedly a highly moral community,” has an abnormal fire wastage. Does he mean that we do not live up to our reputation, or that any New Zealander would immorally leave wax matches lying about for rats to chew, spill the benzine or neglect to take all due and proper precautions against fire under all circumstances, regardless of the value of his property and the amount of his insurance? Tut, tut! AUSTRALIA'S GRASSHOPPERS If we were Egyptians those of ns who live in the south-western districts could not be afflicted with a worse visitation than the plague of yellow grasshoppers at present swarming over the Riverina. eating all before them (wites a correspondent from New South Wales). it is reported that at. one spot where grass Tvas not very plentiful they have demolished school children’s hats hanging up in the waiting-room. The earth and air for miles are alive with millions of the voracious insects. In a few hours lucerne paddocks become fields of stubble, grass is eaten bare, while gardens are utterly destroyed. They all drift in one direction like a yellow storm. They first appear* as quite small and harmless looking creatures about half an inch long. In a few days they seem to have doubled in size, and instead of hopping, develop wings, and fly like millions of little yellow Hinklers. To drive a car through them means that your radiator become a mass of grasshopper pulp in about five minutes. Furthermore, the horrible hissing noise they make and the unending monotony of their hops mesmerises you. until in the end you either drive your car into a culvert or steer it over edga of *