FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 770, 17 September 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN." SAMPLES Captured in a monumental mason’s yard, a trespasser said he was the manager, and offered to show the policeman round. The chiselled cross, the sculptured stone, The scroll precisely graven— He fondly claimed them for his own. To pessimistic patrons shown, Who planned in dismal undertone To mark their final haven. The choice of tributes to the dear Departed here was ample. The tender dove, the marble sphere, The simple slab with lines austere. What policeman would not love to peer At each sepulchral sample? Some spectral moonbeam shed its ray Upon that prospect solemn. But to denote his mortal clay The policeman paused. Alackaday, He bore the manager away. His trophy—half a column! GOOD HUNTING

Mr. F. K. Hunt, S.M., whose aphorisms are well known, has enunciated' the principle that if a man is short of money that is all the more reason why he should not patronise a gambling school. In theory that principle may be entirely admirable, and in the interests of public morality Mr. Hunt is quite right to give it all the publicity at his command. But human nature being what it is. men will still be most lured by the gentle goddess when their funds are low and they turn to the fickle lady as a last means of recuperating their shattered fortunes. Why should millionaires worry about art unions? MOBBEb It is curious how the day’s news occasionally runs in well-defined channels. Here there is a motorist down Palmerston North way complaining that while going about his business he was mobbed by a herd of bulls. Had he been driving one of these “baby” cars that are so popular, the only evidence of his fate might have been a few marks on the road and some scattered pieces of metal over the fence. The parallel occurs in the fact that shortly after this appeared in the public Press, the Mayor of Auckland was mobbed by unemployed while arriving at the Town Hall in his car. He who was threatened by bulls doubtless felt some concern at his position. But the temper of the unemployed was entirely amiable, and in any case Mr. Baildon is made of sterner stuff. THE FINGER OF SCOR-V The denouncing or arresting fingers of traffic officers are manifestations' well known to most motorists. Fortunate are they who have lived a blameless career without being held up at a busy intersection and told in the cheerful way that traffic officers have that they have just infringed some regulation on which the whole order and system of Auckland’s traffic might hinge. Being only human, motorists occasionally respond. One wonders how many prosecutions have been the direct result of an indiscreet word at this juncture, aud conversely how many tarnished escutcheons might still be unblemished by a conviction if the law-breaker had but smiled sweetly on the owner of the omnipotent finger. Of course, it is not always possible to muster a smile w-hen a large, weatherbeaten, and not necessarily attractive face is filling up the entire landscape. Nevertheless the right type of apologetic smile should be cultivated. It pays. THE WESTERN SEAWAY Now and again, happening to be at Onehunga when the steamer sails for New Plymouth, one recalls the vanished glory of that port which was once Auckland’s front door. Today people scent a westerly breeze and think of the trip to New Plymouth as a relic of the days of barbarism. Truly there is something to be respected about a rough sea tumbling into the Manukau entrance and continuing thence all the way down the coast until the glorious haven of New Plymouth breakwater is attained. The davs of the old Takapuna at the time when there was no Main Trunk railway will be remembered. A boisterous seaway contributed then to the relative isolation that was Auckland’s. The North was separated from the South by a barrier 1929 and onwards will never know, and then were born the little jealousies that perhaps found a shade of expression in the keenly fought Rugbv match at Eden Park on Saturday. But though people who are not of the bulldog breed will look as kance at the West Coast trip, the tradition will still be perpetuated, and just as the trip can be a nightmare it can also be a delight, with the high and stately portals of the Manukau a fitting gateway to the romantic pleasures of a smooth passage.