FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 708, 6 July 1929, Page 10

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

GOING CANNY

Though he expects to establish his claim to £1,000,000, a canny Dunedin railway porter, who has left for England, took the precaution of securing leave of absence instead of resigning his position. If ’e fails to grab the million from the clutches of the State, And them lawyers leave ’im just an “Also ran/ 3 'B can snap 'is 3 omy fingers at a most malignant Fate . Then return to heavin 3 luggage in the For a bloke must 3 ave 3 is livin’, and there may be lots o’ slips When a fortune is so far ac'ross the sea. I’d sooner put me shirt upon three quid a' week, and tips , Than a million cracklin’ banknotes . . . So would ’e. DOUGH-BOY EASY COME, EASY GO The announcement that the Waikato Diocesan Synod was to hold a smoke concert during the course oi its gathering this week was on the whole very well received. This is held to be a complete refutation of the theory that the Church is nof human. A friend, who registers an objection, fears that the churches will become too popular. He likes to drive to church, because it is so easy to find a place to park. « * * SAT IT WITH FLOWERS The lash applied by J. A. Nash, reappojnted to the position of Junior Whip in the Reform Party, is unlikely to take the usual form. Mr. Nash believes in saying it with flowers. Every week-end he goes to liis home at Palmerston North, and rarely fails to return without posies or buttonholes for fellow-members. As a result the House on Tuesday afternoons looks positively festive. W T ith his careful grooming and inevitable buttonhole, they might well call him “Beau” Nash: but they don’t. They only call him “Jimmy.” * * * ON WITH THE DANCE Signs of the times as disclosed at the Magistrate’s Court yesterday give the impression that shortly an essential part of a young man’s evening kit will be his boxing gloves. Possibly the modern way is indefensible, but we moderns do appreciate good measure with our entertainment, and a proper night-out should never exclude physical combat. In spite of the danger to life and property, and more particularly to girls growing their hair, young people will continue to frequent cabarets and enjoy them wholesomely. It is self-evident that the “old days” never permitted such excesses. But nowadays the only place where we can get an idea of what the old days looked like is at the slow-motion pictures. OLIVER'S BEARIJ A picture of Oliver Baldwin, the young man whq entered Parliament under a banner repugnant to his Conservative father, reveals that he affects a toothbrush moustache and a scrubby beard. This accords with other eccentricities. At Oxford his circle was aloof, mystic and perhaps a litle silly. Then Oliver went abroad to join the Armenian army, not because he believed Armenia was in special need of his assistance, but, because it was at least original. From baiting- Turks he turned to baiting his father, the late Prime Minister, and is said to have joined the Labour Party with that end in view. Heaping insult on injury, he fostered the impish rumour that he was engaged to Ishbel MacDonald, daughter of the present Prime Minister. And he grew his beard because he believed it would be an asset in his campaign. If beards were assets in New Zealand politics, many a razor would lie neglected on its shelf. * * MORNING GLORIES

Five minutes more of evening light, as compared with a fortnight ago, demotes the startling realisation that the year has taken a turn for the better; that Tom Sidey’s Summertime will shortly be renewed, and that in a matter of weeks, rather than of months—said he, with optimism—we shall be wending our way, not to Eden Park, but to Cheltenham Beach, only to find on arrival that the tide is out, and that in any case it is rather cold for a dip today. Strange how the winds that are not evident in town seem to play about the exposed beaches of the North Shore. But that’s a little ahead of the theme, the argument that even the winter is not without its glories. Now take the light mists that settle down over the waterfront and city' in the early mornings. They drape familiar outlines in a diaphanous shroud. The tall buildings catch a strange and beautiful light. If it weren’t for the cold, the short days, the magnitude of the light and fuel bill, and a few other trifling disadvantages, why, winter would almost be endurable.