FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 735, 7 August 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

THE GREATER QUESTION If we believe in Darwin's creed, And pin our faith to evolution, ’Twill be a simple thing, indeed. To find our present life’s solution. We started just a provellina worm — Emerged from that to be a monkey. From there it’s easy to affirm Our next remove was to a flunkey. TVe toiled and served with sweat of brow And dared not look for recreation. Nor call our souls our own, I trow. Just one remove from brute creation. And now we evolute again. As clerks we’ve reached another station. But seek perfection all in vain, TVe’re still in need of elevation. I-low swift the poem bccometh arose! Can this be told beyond disputing — Shall I need powder on my nose When I have finished evoluting? W.A.T. THRILLS Famous for his daring, Captain M. C. McGregor, of Hamilton, has added to his laurels by flying his airplane inside the crater of Ijfgaurulioe. Captain McGregor is the pilot credited with the sensational feat of swooping under the two bridges that span the Waikato River at Hamilton. If he feels in need of further thrills, the Look Out Man suggests that Ire might fly under the arches of the Ferry Buildings, dive under Grafton Bridge, dash through the Strand Arcade, and finish up by landing on the roof of The Sun building. The Look Out Man would be pleased to welcome him. CRUDE. RUDE, ETC. The Auckland Seamen's Union is without doubt emphatic. It has denounced compulsory military training as “harmful, obnoxious, and futile,” an all-round condemnation which should show supporters of the system once and for all where they stand. In matters like this, it is as well to leave no loophole. An Indian trader in Suva was recently prosecuted for selling prints that were “lewd, wicked, scandalous, and obscene.” This arraignment satisfied the law that no possible shade of the offence was left uncovered. In an American election that a New Zealand newspaper man remembers, one candidate for the governorship referred to another as “lewd, crude, rude, and uncultured.” The subject of this handsome tribute was rejected, but only because he happened, incidentally, to be a Democrat. SOMETHING BREWING There is trouble brewing at Otahuliu and elsewhere, and all because someone has had the effrontery to propose that a new branch of a very ancient business should be located in that salubrious centre of semi-suburban wit and culture. The Nesv Zealand Alliance objects to the proposal on the grounds that Otahuhu is on the way to the King Country. The principle involved in that objection is very laudable, but if upheld it may result in the removal of those well-known civic landmarks, our breweries, from the IChyber Pass, which also happens to be on the way to the King Country by one of the most popular routes. In fact, if you happen to be going that way, any one place can be on the road to somewhere else. There was a time when a brewery was considered something of an asset in a town. The old Whitson brewery, between Queen Street and Elliott Street, was certainly venerated by many early Aucklanders. If it happened to be on the way to Karangahape Road, that did not matter very much, because the stickler for the proprieties could always park in at the brewery for the day, and so remove that disability. ... THOSE MANTLES It is only ten or a dozen years ago, though it seems an age, since the name of Welsbach ceased to be a household word. The memories it revives are the memories of the era before electric light became the vogue for domestic luminance, and Karl von W'elsbach’s upright mantles were a necessity in any well-con-ducted menage. Electric bulbs admittedly go wrong occasionally, and often at the wrong moments, but they happily don’t share tile distressing fallibility of those old upright mantles, which had to be ceremoniously set afire before the incandescent skeleton was fit for use. The firing and fitting processes were fraught with many dangers. It is to be feared that the maledictions that frequent mishaps brought about were a direct factor in teaching blameless children that the English tongue contains more than is usually written. Still, old Karl von Welsbach did the world a service. He allowed it to read in comfort in the many long years before electricity came into favour. Now he is dead, and the name of a noted benefactor will fade once more into oblivion.