FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 374, 7 June 1928, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

NOT IN CONCRETE? , “Harbour Bridge—-Mr. Coates’s Attitude —No Concrete Proposals.”—Daily paper headings. Does Mr. Coates think we will be satisfied with a wooden bridge? SURPRISING Auckland Manufacturers’ Association has decided to conduct a “surprise campaign to aid the unemployed.” Since no indication of the nature of the campaign has yet been given, no surprise need be felt if the “surprise” is not so surprising as was expected. It will surprise the L.0.M., however, if the association does not manufacture something substantial for the occasion. Si * A STABLE BUSINESS It is wonderful to reflect upon the enormous attendances at horse races, and the immense sums that pass through the totalisator, with business generally in such an unstable condition. As a matter of fact, horse-racing seems to be the most stable of all businesses at present. GUM LEAF “ TOBACCO ” After many experiments an Australian company, which has been registered with a capital of £IOO,OOO, claims to have discovered how to manufacture excellent tobacco and cigarettes from gum leaves. This is the first really great discovery since Sir Walter Raleigh went to America. Cigarettes made from gum leaves are not entirely new, however. Long years agone, when the L.O.M. was a boy, he bought some of these cigarettes in Hobart. They were supposed to cure colds, asthma, bronchitis and the like. They may have been good for the chest, but they were most abominable to the palate. But it’s wonderful what they can do these days. They’ll be making chewing gum of concrete next. * * * TORTOISE BRACELETS The latest mode in Paris is a tiny tortoise fettered to the wrist—“quite the sweetest in bracelets, dearie!” Inexpensive, too, costing only 10s, and requiring only a nibble of salad once a day. A “keeper” bracelet, consisting of plaited strings of celery, should be quite a good idea. The wonder is that the chameleon isn’t more popular as a lady’s ornament. The little “cham” changes colour beautifully, and can be guaranteed always to match any dress worn by his owner. He is more useful than the tortoise, too, and will repose quietly on the hand or hair of his owner until he sees a fly. Then out goes a foot or so of tongue—and in goes the fly. So the chameleon is both useful and ornamental. FOOT BALE ARGUMENTS Most endless and unprofitable of all are football arguments. Men have commenced arguing football in an hotel bar at 2 p.m., been ejected at 6.3 p.m., and continued arguing in the taxi which took them to the police station, and at the station until placed in separate cells. Yesterday the L.O.M. met a trio consisting of a New Zealander, a South African and an Australian. The first said that League was the game. The second insisted it was Rugby; the third held out passionately (he was from Victoria) for “Australian Rules.” They had almost come to blows when an American joined in “to tell the world” that the only game fit for a he-man was baseball. The L.O.M. retired for fear a few morq nationalities might join in the argument and bring about Armageddon. MESSINES AND A MINE To-day is the eleventh anniversary of the Battle of Messines in which the New Zealand Division acquitted itself with such distinction. It was just prior to the advance on Messines that what was described as the largest mine to be exploded at the war was fired. There was much speculation in England whether the sound of the explosion would cross the Channel and the evening following the engagement all those correspondents who are in the habit of writing to the London papers announcing a glimpse of the rathe primrose or the first nightingale of the song season, took up their pens to inform the world that they had distinctly heard the explosion in Tiddlesworth-on-Ooze and Slowcombe-in-Mire. The funny part about it all was that the troops in Ploegsteert Wood, next door, and those who were encamped behind the lines slept sweetly through the night and were unaware that the giant mine had exploded. IMPRISONED GENIUS It was at a gathering of some of the intellect of Auckland. The ladies’ literary circle had discussed and read the life and works of one of the leading contemporary writers. Thoughts were descending to the everyday plane of firesides and hot bottles, when the appalling discovery was made that an over zealous co-tenant had left the building earlier and carefully locked the grille exit. Unfortunately the club secretary, who holds the key, was absent, and a scrutiny of the nameplates gave forth no hope. A momentary panic among the ladies, a fruitless search for the fire escape, and a hurried ring to the watchhouse— which was inclined to treat the whole thing as a joke, as watchhouse-keepers are more usually called upon to lock doors. However, a stalwart was sent to the rescue, armed with tomahawk, jemmy and other necessities. Perhaps he suspected a ruse, for he brought some suppoit in the shape of a mate, and there ensued, for the benefit of a growing group of curious onlookers, an argument through the grille as to the advisability of breaking the lock or awaiting the problematical return of the landlord. But one glance at the oncoming stream of women from upstairs decided the matter, and, with one neat "Buckley” twist, the lock was wrenched off, and a little band of some twenty very relieved literary students emerged upon Queen Street, leaving their rescuers to deal with the problem of sealing the premises.