FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 506, 8 November 1928, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN" HINT TO CAN DIDATES If speakers would not arouse the ire Of those who are patiently listening, Then let them remember this one true thing : “The longer the spoke, the bigger the tire.” • * * THE EGGS GO OVER The first egg of the election campaign was thrown at Mr. Coates at Wanganui on Tuesday. That was a rotten trick for Wanganui to play. CHANGE OF STATUS The Government’s intention to declare part of Motuihi Island a marine park is interesting. But will the new title be more intriguing than that other. “Dead Marine” park, which the island has borne for many years. * * * CONDIMENT CRISIS There is reported to be a crisis in the condiment trade abroad. Salt prices are falling, falling, falling; but pepper prices are soaring, soaring. The pepper vines in the Bast Indies had a bad season, and supplies are now short. So traditionally inseparable are salt and pepper that their affiliation calls to mind other inseparables: Odds and ends, warp and woof, pen and ink, man and wife, bacon and eggs, flotsam and jetsam, cup and saucer, might and main, beer and skittles, bread and butter, flora and fduna. This list the office boy supplements with “Stiffy and Mo.” » • * UP ALOFT Where are the highest buildings in Auckland clustered? Answering without thought the reader will say, “In Queen Street,” which in specific terms is wrong. The highest group of buildings in Auckland is at the Shortland Street end of High Street, where Gleeson’s, Nathan’s, and the new South British building rise side by side. Across Shortland Street is the National Bank, another tall block, and a few yards up the road is the commanding Yorkshire building. Gleeson’s and Nathan’s buildings were the skyscrapers of their day, and there are tales told of friendly rivalry over their construction. The popping of bottles and carboys when the top floors of Nathan’s were burned out is still remembered by those who witnessed one of Auckland’s greatest fires. • * * A NEW TARGET At Mount Egmont last Sunday the Prime Minister, seeing goats on the reserve, was moved to wish that he had a rifle, so that he could, “have a pop at them.” Potting goats would no doubt at the moment be a welcome change from potting elusive political opponents. But where the political sharpshooter needs a nimble mind, when goats are the target, it is nimble feet that are demanded. The goat is a difficult creature to hit with a bullet, and on some of the favourite hunting-grounds, such as Cape Campbell and Cape Kidnappers, it takes refuge in the most inaccessible places. Goat-hunting can have its hardships, too, as one party recently discovered when, on breaking camp, they found that a goat shot up the valley some days earlier had found its way into the camp water supply before it died.

JURYMAN’S PIjEA Many and varied are the ingenious pleas advanced by jurors that they may avoid service; but that of Neil Alexander Mclnnes, of Napier, who said he believed no man eould commit a crime, and that he could therefore never, convict anyone, is surely the most original and effective. Such an excuse is unanswerable, as Judge Ostler, in exasperation, had to admitTales of other jurymen are called to mind. One man said he was engaged on an urgent work—building a fowlhouse. Another said he was deaf, and an astute judge, who died not many months ago, dismissed him, and then called a surprise question to him as the juryman left the Court. The trap was completely successful. Many are the occasions when blushing husbands inform the judge in a whisper of an impending domestic event. Sometimes, they are excused, sometimes not, as when a judge at a country town said: “The people at home will thank me for keeping you here.” Choicest of all was the case of the baker who came to the Court from his bakehouse, minus collar or other neckwear, and asked to be excused in 'the interests of the morning’s batch of loaves. “Next time you come to Court,” said the judge, in granting his request, “come decently dressed. This is not a bakehouse." To which the baker replied in an agrieved tone, “You haven’t got a tie on yourself.” He served on the jury.