FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 751, 26 August 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

FISHERMAN'S LUCK The proprietor of a laut called the Marble Bar, in the bed of the Ashburton River, has been lined for selling liquor without a licence. The knowing angler casts his fly Where the Ashburton River ripples, For handy, if he’s feeling dry, Are ample stocks of soothing tipples. Suppose the trout decline to rise— In yonder hut’s a nobler prize. Discard the rod, the empty creel. Leave them beside the fruitless eddy, And let your arid palate feel The tang of liquids crisp and heady, While tales are told of monsters, and The fish you hook but cannot land. It's not the Biltmore or the Ritz, Not the Ambassador’s or Cecil; But to a true blue angler it’s No matter where he wets his whistle. The lowly shack, the famed Savoy— They’re all the same, so “Attaboy!” —I. WALTON. • » • LIGHT WITHOUT TEARS The passing of Karl von Welsbach recently recalled another age in illumination. Let us also recall the candle age. It is a fact that city children at this enlightened period think of candles only as something to put on birthday cakes. All sources of light are gauged by the electric light globe. Hence a small and unsuspecting lady recently made personal investigation of the first naked candle flame she" had seen. The idea that it was something like an electric light bulb, and could be grasped with impunity, was rudely dispelled. Yet, after all, it was hardly the youngster’s fault that candles ivere outside her experience. She was simply proceeding on the results of her own observations, but now has an entirely different and painful result as a future guide. CONSTABLE'S CHASE Who would not spare a moment on a busy day to watch the hurrying crowds in Queen Street or Karangahape Road? A favoured place is the Customs Street intersection, past which all Auckland seems to hurry at least once a day. A Southern visitor, by the way, remarks that Aucklanders take all honours in the rapid gait class. He considers they stride along the footpath as though Satan himself were at their heels. And perhaps he is—a cheerful thought. It is mentioned that recently a new interest was created at the Customs Street crossing when a policeman was seen to sprint diagonally across the intersection. He was full out—a new thrill, for there must be a quarry, perhaps a bag-snatcher, hastening round the corner just ahead. So necks craned eagerly from every corner. But. it' was in vain. The man in blue was running for a tram. CALL OUT THE GUARD Commissioner Mcllveney has remarked lately on a decrease of crime in this charming country. It is pleasant to hear the commissioner’s reassuring words. Not so long ago he seemed to he talking in terms of crime waves and an underworld. But no, there can hardly be an underworld in New Zealand. The Lookout Man happened to be outside the back door of a local bank yesterday when a lorry drew up outside. The lorry driver proceeded to open the door and reveal a number of bags lying on the floor, and presently a casual bank clerk wandered out, seized a couple of bags, and staggered inside, like Sandow doing a weight-lifting turn. The bags, it seemed, contained coin of the realm. The lorry driver smoked in a contented sort of fashion, and now and again the clerk reappeared to repeat the performance. Not a pistol or bayonet was in sight. Yes, we are law-abiding souls. THE PILOTS It is noted with some enthusiasm that two adventurous New Zealanders found a knowledge of Rugby a great help to them when applying for admission to the Royal Air Force. It recalls the good old Taranaki advertisement: “Wanted, man to milk cows. Must be good footballer.” Possibly the majestic board of R.A.F. examiners tested the professional qualifications of the candidates in a cursory sort of way, and then took a Rugby football out on to the airdrome and said: “Now, show us what you can do with that.” Of course, Rugby with the Air Force is a matter of some importance. The captain of the Irish forwards, Beamish, and the captain of the English forwards, Wakefield. are both R.A.F. men. With , old England showing such a nice ; attitude to New Zealand Rugby in I choosing recruits for her air force, it is sad that when New Zealand Air 1 Force recruits are chosen, Rugby I matters not at all.

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”