FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 618, 21 March 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

CUTTING THE TALKIES

A message from Wellington states that talking films have placed the censor in a quandary, as any cutting will make a serious break in the continuity of the dialogue.

The villain glowers upon the hero's features (Manly but pure, serene yet brave, they be) He says, “You . . . most adorable of creatures. I love you, darling. Won’t you fly with To yonder love-nest underneath the beeches, And there . . . do you take sugar in your teat”

Enter the village maiden, tripping lightly. The villain waits, and eyes her as she trips. She sees him, swoons. “Ha, Ha!” he holds her tightly. (Fell work ahead, the connoisseur tips). “I have thee, wench.’ . . . “Two hearts,” she counters brightly, Plays out the hand, and gathers in the chips. The hero’s . turn arrives. His hair is clotted With gore. They fight. The damsel waits in tears. The hero says . . . (Again the line is dotted, ’Trvas plainly quite unfit for gentle ears). And so it runs, where'er the censor spotted Something to have a snip at. with his shears. T. TOHEROA. HE WINS The most absent-minded professor in the world bas been discovered in America. He poured bis maple-syrup down his back, and scratched his waffle.

BOYS WILL BE BOYS

Touching on irrepressible small boys, who derail trains, set crossing signals a-wagging, and dogs serenading prima donnas, further instances come to mind, including the case of the chemist who had on his window the suggestion to passers-by: “I want a toothbrush.” He was taken at his word by a stocky youth, who brought him in a very old and dilapidated specimen. An Auckland auctioneer tells of two brothers who entered his mart. The younger, aged ten, -began bidding hotly. “Why, the man only wants to see what they are worth,” the hoy said when reproached with the enormity of his offence.

THE SEVEN SEAS

“8.A.” writes; The interesting discussion about the definition of the Seven Seas overlooks the probability of the classical origin of the phrase. I cannot place my hand on any authority at the moment, but recollect reading that the Seven Seas of the ancients were the following;—Tyrrhenian, Adriatic, Aegean, Black, Marmora, Mediterranean and Red. These covered the limit of early geographic or nautical knowledge, and a voyager who had “sailed the seven seas” was widely-travelled Indeed, though nowadays an American tourist would skip over the same space in-less than three weeks. I believe it is from ancient usage, however, that world-wide acceptance of the romantic term has sprung.

THE DANCER

Stout sentiments, those of Bert Nieholl, the non-stop dancer, who informed a scribe who danced round the Scots Hall with him (there was no other way to get the story) that only collapse from exhaustion would keep him from establishing a new longdistance dancing record. Mathematicians who specialise in this sort of work have calculated that by the time he sets a new mark he will have foxtrotted, tangoed, shuffled and blackbottomed 205 miles, and anyone who can picture what it would he like dancing from Auckland to Hamilton and hack can get an Idea of what that means. The realisation may impel them to wonder what the super-jazzer hopes in the long run to accomplish, but there is no accounting for tastes, and the gods of sport may decide that Bert Nieholl is as good as Mercedes Gleitze, the Channel swimmer, and that marathon pianists like the noted Montecino are as good as both. Severe physical disabilities often beset those who attempt these feats of endurance. A star performer who used to slide down a long rope by a strap held between his teeth won the inevitable reward in the form of abscesses on every tooth in his head. In time the longdistance jazzer may he able to point with pride to an out-size in corns. In the meantime it is to be hoped that the ladies who are taking turns in dancing with him do not expect too much sprightly conversation from their illustrious partner.