FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 729, 31 July 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

ROCKING IT IN Possessing such a variety of rocks in profusion, Auckland is in a position to have splendid rock gardens.— Mr. A. Wilkinson, of Nelson. We Aucklanders are strong on civic pride. 'We’ve Queen Street and our harbour, deep and wide. Our gorgeous climate, and our ragtime clocks, But best of all—so beautiful—those rockst When in tup garden, delving merrily, I bend my brand-new spade, how sweet to me. How loveable, the hard sub-soil that shocks My system—l adore those rocks l Those, fertile boulders with their charming hues ; No wonder all our visitors enthuse! And. yet, my soul this proclamation mocks. So THIS is why I’m always on the rocksl McSHOVEh RIVERS OF WINE What a night Napier could have had if the wine that ran in ruddy rivers from the burning cellars of the Cireenmeadows Mission had been diverted to its just and proper purposes! The Mission, a flue old build- : ing, is built on the slopes of a hill, so the squandered vintage would have the advantage of a gravity fall. A gravity fall, as anyone will admit, is helpful when a delectable liquid has to be lowered. But it is not absolutely essential, and arid onlookers at last evening’s carnival may even have exploited the vinous rivers through straws. THE LIGHT FANTASTIC Lacking authentic information as to the method of providing dancing partners for the matelots of the Touiville, it seems unfortunate for Auckland’s designing young minxes that the dance floor provided by the thoughtful Navy League is out-of-bounds to the public. That is, the sailors may sally forth into Queen Street and return with their captures, but unattached lasses may not stroll into the dance hall on the chance that some gallant mariner may present himself pour la danse. Perhaps the organisers have made adequate arrangements to keep a stock of partners on hand, and the position is that no potential wall-flowers need apply. But the company of the Tourville numbers 600. That is a big number to provide for. Perhaps it will be necessary to make a raid one evening oa some local centre of gaiety, and bear off willing captives to provide the essential element of tender frailty without which no dance floor is complete. IN THE BIG-GAME COUNTRY While a certain amount of interesting controversy centres round the Taupo railway scheme, it may be recalled that an ingenious English sportsman once committed himself to the statement that this and many other parts of New Zealand would make a paradise for the big-game hunter. His idea was that the New Zealand Government should import any animal that stood a chance of becoming acclimatised, and turn them all loose to thrive and multiply for a certaiu number of years. Then, the sportsmen would come along, and the man-eaters of Tsavo would be nothing to the man-eaters of Taupo. The genius who thought of all this was E. S. Grogan, who as a Cambridge undergraduate walked from Cape to Cairo, the first man to do the arduous trip. In 1900 he published a book about his experiences, and embodied therein the above suggestion. “It would he better,” he wrote, “than the New Zealand Government’s harebrained schemes for assisting the indigent at the expense of the successful. ’ But best of all. one imagines, it would have given Mr. Grogan and friends a suitable hunting-ground in which to slay in comfort during their declining years. SWEET DREAMT A gentleman in Christchurch has so far forgotten himself as to sink into deep slumber in one of the city churches. He may have been a tired householder, worn out after patrolling his dwelling against the possible visit of incendiarists. A church seems to be the only place in Christchurch where a man could snatch forty winks just now; but no matter. The canons of good deportment are all against that sort of thing, and he was a low fellow, even if he did carry a cane and gloves. The sinister part of it is that, after dropping off to sleep the first time, he responded to vigorous prodding, and then calmly slipped off again to make the building reverberate with his snores. It is easy to picture the stunned horror of the congregation, and the inevitable sequel of the somnolent one’s ejection. For in Christchurch, of all places, it may be pardonable to go to sleep once during the service, but to do it twice is really a bit over the fence.