FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 468, 25 September 1928, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” SHORN LAMBS Reading an old magazine of about 190 S yesterday, we encountered a page on the care of the hair. At the top was the now-forgotten line; “A woman’s crowning glory is her hair.” All we can. say is that she is not covering herself with glory these days. COLUMNS OF WHATf Cablegrams from Sydney tell us that the imposing feature of the new State Savings Bank is its colossal columns. The ledger clerks are wholly in agreement with this, though they do not look at it from an architectural point of view. TO-DAY’S DEFINITION A bookworm is a man who, while sitting down in the tram, hides his face behind a large volume so that he is unable to see women standing. Naturally he does not like to see woman strap-hanging while he reclines as much at his ease as the Auckland City tramways and his conscience will let him. THE NOISY ENGLISH The noisiness of English cities, which British Medical Association speakers have ,been deploring, seems to be an ancient national characteristic. Hentzer, who travelled in England in Elizabethan times, found it by far the noisiest country he had ever visited. “The English,” he lamented, “are vastly fond of great noises that fill the air, such as firing of cannon, drums, and ringing of bells, so that in London it is common for a number of them, especially when they have got a glass into their heads, to go together into some belfry and ring the bells for hours together. EARLY DENTISTRY Apparently civilisation can be thanked at least for one blessing—the painless extraction of teeth. Dr. E. P. Ellison, Director of Maori Hygiene, revealed the startling methods employed by the old-time Maori to an Auckland audience last evening. AVhen Hori had toothache, he said, twine was tied round the troublesome tooth, and an ember was poked at the patient. The emberpoking business was to make a patient draw back abruptly. This was invariably done. The early Maoris were prone to disguise the fact that they were suffering from toothache. TRAFFIC ROBOTS Eric and Ronald, two real and seemingly "go-getting” robots, have made their appearance ia London. The antics of the machine-men or menmachines are described (without much

originality) as “almost human.” After being in Queen Street at rush hours, watching Auckland’s best and brightest traffic directors at work, the L.O.M. is satisfied that the names of most of them must be either Ronald or Eric. Rumour has it that, off duty, these traffic robots of ours have their human moments. It is even possible that they eat and sleep like the average man. Nevertheless, their robot-like efficiency is to be commended.

CATCHING FLIES An anonymous offer of a prize of £lO to the city school catching the greatest weight of flies has been made to the Otago Education Board. There are possibilities in this if properly organised. Perhaps the Otago Boxing Association would control the contest, as It seems to come within the scope of its activities—the selection of the fly-weight champion of Dunedin. » * » ROAD RELICS In spite of much we hear about cars wearing out quickly, there are numbers which become positive veterans before their turn comes for the scrapheap. The oldest motor-car still ia use was recently put up to auction by a French priest to raise funds for building a new church. It was constructed in 1891, has covered nearly 200,000 miles, and is still in excellent working fettle. The priest bought it for £72 in 1895. Not until 1912 was the first garage overhaul necessary, and no further one has been needed. With its early form of chain drive, crude iron tyres, and 1-h.p. Panhard motor, it registers a top speed of eight miles an hour. Several times the French priest has piloted this car into the bustling streets of Paris, sometimes to show her at the motor salon exhibitions. He has always had a royal welcome from the modern motorists. So fit has the old machine kept that it has actually won several prizes In races organised for the most aged kinds of cars in service. But at last the good abbe, who had watched over and driven his patriarchal motor, friend for 33 long years, decided to part with it. The needs of his little church came first, and he sacrificed his ancient car.