FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 656, 7 May 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” MARCHING ORDERS “Bunny” Finlayson, All Black forward, was ordered off the field by a Whangarei referee for saying to him, “Get out of the road,” when he obstructed a passing rush. The referee his whistle blew, And pointed to the line : “Regrets for bumping into you . . . The faulty perhaps > was mine? But though upon the chosen field You've often left your furrow, Note like the “Bunny’* you must yield — Go, hasten to your burrow!” His voice was raised above the hush . . . Forgotten was the passing rush . . .. Oh, let us not when we collide, Though men of brawn and bone, Condense the sentiments we hide Into an undertone, Or even breathe in football code. “1 fear you’re standing in my road . . For such befel the other day No further north than Whangarei. — SQUIDGE. TOO LATE To say that there isn’t room to swing a cat on the Aorangi would perhaps be an injustice, but there must be something wrong when a passenger can’t fondle the ship’s feline pet without letting it slip overboard to a watery grave. It is a striking testimony to the humanitarian instincts of journalists that a boatload thereof hastened from the ship’s side to rescue the luckless puss. Unfortunately, they did not reach her in time. Then they whipped the cat. NO BANANAS Even allowing for the fact that a long-standing tapu has been infringed by the sacriligious use of the name, the Maui Pomare is taking an unconscionable time to live down her hoodoo. News comes this morning that another shipment of fruit has deteriorated. The publishers of the song “I’ve Never Seen a Straight Banana” offered a prize to the man who could produce one. In the case of the Maui Pomare a small prize should be awarded if a sound sample is brought back. THE SUNSHINE HOUR One of the pleasant functions of Radio Station WGY, Schenectady, N.Y. (pronounce the "Sell” as in Schnapps) is the broadcasting of mail to the members of the Byrd Antarctic expedition, and this process, as Auckland listeners-in note, is followed by a few well-chosen remarks of the jocose or bed-time story order. This one whistled across the Pacific last Sunday: Genial Stranger (to boy fishing): “Why do you have an apple on the hook?” Boy: “For bait.” G.S.: “But an apple is no use. You should have a worm.” Boy: "The worm is in the apple,” We hope this didn’t leave them cold. FOOTBALIjER SHOT The curious misfortune of a. Kimbolton footballer who got shot in the dressing-room instead of allowiug a decent, interval to elapse, recalls that peculiar things are liable to happen whenever guns are left loaded, particularly if they happen to be of the death-dealing .303 variety. Only usually the results are more tragic than they were in this instance. This pen when younger engaged in a so-called “friendly” match at Johnsonville, and was idly contemplating the forwards from the secure position of fullback when one of them dropped like a stone, shot in the calf of the leg. The fell deed was eventually traced to a careless sportsman potting rabbits in the nearby gorse, but in the meantime the injured gladiator refused to be convinced that it was not a more than usually mean trick played by one of his opponents. ETAOIN SHRDLU Newspaper readers occasionally encounter in the day’s news the following cryptogram: “Etaoin shrdlu, etaoin shrdlu.” It is obviously some sort of typographical error, hut why the regularity of the spelling? Such is the mystery to laymen that recently a great American daily was moved to write editorially on the subject. When a linotype operator makes an error he has to complete that line of type before he can make another. The easiest thing for him to do is to complete the line by running his fingers down the first two vertical rows of his keyboard. The result is the emergence of a line containing “etaoin shrdlu.” And when the operator forgets to take out the faulty line, “etaoin shrdlu” gets into print. So often has “etaoin shrdlu” appeared with a “Mr.” attached, that Mr. Etaoin Shrdlu has really become a famous personage. He has a relative who dwells on his right hand in the third row of the keyboard, young Mr, Cmfwyp. The family is completed by boyish Vbgkqj and tiny Xz, whose name trails off into strange typographical symbols.