FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 402, 10 July 1928, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” GOING TOO FAR News of the taxi rate war in Auckland has filtered down as far as Wellington, but passengers from the South yesterday morning could not help feeling surprised when, as soon as the Limited arrived, a taxi jumped right on to the platform, smashing through the station fence. Though one must commend enterprise, it cannot be denied that this is not the best way to attract passengers. A NATURAL, MISTAKE

Week-end cables from America deal with a “Clean-Up Week.” Until we read on, and discovered that learning the mysteries of domestic hygiene were being unfolded, we were under the impression that it was a review of the Democratic Convention. AND NO ROAST BULLOCK Councillor Stallworthy said at the last meeting of the City Council that there would be no running streams of champagne provided by the council when the Japanese Squadron arrived at Auckland. This news will come as a bitter disappointment and surprise to most of us. OF SUCH ARE POLICEMEN Schoolboy wit the world over is ever a source of delight to those whose days in the dormitory are now but a memory. There is always something spontaneous, terribly candid, in the way they have in the “quad” of finding that one and only nickname to emphasise the peculiar characteristics of the new hoy. It was doubtless some dabbler in the works of Virgil whose metrical mind, sized up a new boy at a wellknown Auckland college and affixed the imperishable label “Spondee”—two long feet. THERE AND BACK Sympathy with suffering patients no doubt prompted a choir party from a North Auckland church to visit the local hospital and sing sweet melodies for the patients. Taking this noble motive into consideration, one cannot help regarding it as an ironic trick of fate that a motor accident on the way home sent five of the six members of the party back to the scene of their late endeavours. ... SEAM AN-GO LEERS The rulers of Uncle Sam’s Navy have a passion for golf. So much so that they have made it a compulsory subject in the examination of American midshipmen. These officers are now compelled to take a course of 10 lessons and to pass a proficiency test, before going to sea. A short road to subsequent promotion will be to get on the right side of the Admiral by challenging him to a round and letting him win. Another way for an officer to prove his efficiency would be to hole-in-one from the bridge into the skylight of the Admiral's cabin on the after deck. Should the Admiral happen to he sitting underneath at the time the officer would find himself “one-up” before he knew where he was. American aircraft-carriers will be popular ships in future, since it would be quite simple to plan a nine-hole course on the vast deck-space available. ’Planes, of course, would have to give ample notice of their intention to land, so as not to interfere with the game. One disadvantage of golf afloat in the American Navy will be that there can be no 19th hole.

NEARLY A CONVERSAZIONE! Control was not rigid at the Mount Eden Borough Council meeting last evening, and there were signs, when a deputation was complaining of a factory nuisance, of the meeting becoming a general conversazione. More than one speaker strayed from the subject under discussion. One man spoke in round terms, of his knowledge of germspreading. He gained this in Blackpool. Everyone knew where that was, of course. No? It was a leading English resort, well-planned, and so on, and so on. It took an hour to dispose of the deputation’s business. GENE. THE HIGHBROW Gene Tunney, in his address on Shakespeare, given at Yale University, said he first made acquaintance with his favourite author while on service in France. “A marine loaned me ‘The Winter’s Tale,’ but I had to read it ten times before I got the hang of the metre.” Gene thinks the most wonderful words in Shakespeare are the following from “Troilus and Cressida”:— Time hath, my lord. A wallet at his back. Wherein he puts alms for oblivion. It is difficult to imagine lines with an allusion to oblivion being popular with a prize lighter.