From The Watch Tower

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 437, 20 August 1928, Page 8

From The Watch Tower

By

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

TO A CORRESPONDENT Inquirer.—So far, we have not heard that the New Zealand Rugby League authorities are charging extra money for the ring-side seats at the j third Test match. I TERSE A good—and, I am told, perfectly true —story about Rudyard Kipling has it that an autograph hunter having read that Kipling never put his pen to paper for less than half-a-crown a word, conceived the idea of sending five shillings to the great man, together with his autograph album thinking to obtain the coveted two words. The album came back without the five shillings, but instead of finding the signature “Rudyard Kipling” as he fondly hoped, these two words greeted him: “Thank you.” STILL IN THE RUNNING The acknowledged queen of British film actresses, Miss Betty Balfour, has a reputation for her impromptu witticisms. Her latest came as a result of a discussion concerning a certain movie star who, despite the fact that she has been engaged several times, is still single. A friend one evening happened to say: “Dolly doesn’t appear to be making very good running in the matrimonial stakes, does she?” “Oh, I don’t know about that,” answered Miss Balfour quickly. “She’s on her twelfth lap.” WHY HE AGREED A story is being told of Mr. H. G. Wells concerning a chance conversation with a fellow-traveller in a railway carriage. Mr. Wells was talking about hygiene, in which subject, however, the other did not appear to be greatly interested—until the novelist urged that all drinking and cooking water should be boiled. “Sir,” said the passenger with sudden animation, “your views are perfectly sound, and I am in complete accord with them.” “Ah! A doctor, I presume,” remarked the novelist. “No, Sir,” he replied, “X am in the coal trade.” THE BARBER BROKE SILENCE The death of Sir Edmund Gosse, famous critic and essayist, recalls a story about him told by Walter Title. For a very long time Gosse was served by the same barber, who was a great comfort because he did his work well and in utter silence. “One day,” remarked Sid Edmund, “he astonished me by an inclination to talk. Asking me to pardon him for any seeming presumption, he proceeded: ‘I merely wanted to remark, sir, that I have been hobservin’ your ’air, for a rather longish period. Time was when I thought as ’ow you might lose it, but, now, sir, I am sure you will die in your ’air. ‘Yes,’ he repeated, ‘you will die in your ’air, sir.’ ”

UNCOMFORTABLY SITUATED A rabbit became lodged in the main water supply pipe at Cottingley, in Yorkshire, causing the village to be without water for a whole day. In the words of Uncle Remus: “Once upon a time there was a rabbit. And this ’yer rabbit wus very nosey. One day he were runnin’ along—perfloppity flop—when he sees a hole that he done never seen before. ‘I winner what rabbit lives in here,’ he say. So he crawls in and gets stuck. After hollerin’ for a while, B’rer Rabbit he lie low and say nuffln." TERRIBLE REALITY Stage accidents, such as the wounding of an actor at the Regent’s Theatre, in London, recently, are happily less frequent and less serious than they used to be half a century ago. This is partly because swordplay, always dangerous, is not so often seen on the stage to-day as it used to be. “Richard III.,” because of the fight in the Bosworth scene, has always been accounted risky for the actors, especially the opponents of Richard. Charles Kean, a splendid swordsman, was terrible in the part of Crookback at bay, because he entered so thoroughly into the role and fought as for his life, while of Barry Sullivan in the same part it was said. “Whether or not there were six Richmonds in the field, there were usually afterwards at least two in the hospital.” Sullivan’s most unfortunate victim was Henry Sinclair, who lost an eye at the Drury Lane Bosworth.