From the watch tower

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 797, 18 October 1929, Page 8

From the watch tower

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” OUT OF SORTS Wrestling item:—Since Monday’s match Alley, the winner, lias not been himself. Why weep ye by the tide, Alley, And why so wan and pale? Has hard-earned victory lost its kick? Does triumph’s glory stale? Revive that flagging spirit, Tom, Exert that iron will. The feeble pulse, the listless eye, Become our hero ill. And if the injury to Singh, Has touched you to the quick, Oh tender wrestler, recollect It’s he, not you, who's sick. Though bored and lax, at least you took The thick end of the pelf. He broke an arm; he lost the match; He’s even less himself: * * * FALSE ECONOMY Parliament is a contradictory sort of place. One moment members are being criticised for being too wordy, and another for being too terse. The real spirit that animates our members is succinctly stated in the newspaper headlines concerning Mr. Donald’s modest effort on the cable merger. “Speech of Seconds,” says a contemporary. “House Resents Attitude.” One naturally infers that members of Parliament are extremely hard to please. * * * NEW MODEf Sexton Blake and other mythical sleuths must take a back seat when the ruse adopted by a New Zealand detective In the Grey case Is revealed. It appears that the wanted man had a birth-mark under the left knee. The detective suggested that his quarry change his linen before going to the gaol. The birth-mark was discerned during the process. To quote from a contemporary: —“‘You did not get the birth-mark removed from under your knee.’ Grey pulled down his shirt and said, ‘You have no right to be examining me now’.” Our fashion expert has decided that the man must have been wearing rather a long shirt.

LAMENT FOR QUIETUDE

Another primeval, if untidy, scrap of Auckland has been effaced by the new. Domain Street, that unkempt but, withal, picturesque towsle of grass sloping violently from Wynyard Street to Grafton Road, has now been paved and tar-sealed. No more will that friendly old horse graze, as he had grazed for a decade by dispensation of the City Council. Where he used to lie in luxuriant indolence a hundred motor-cars will speed noisily. Already residents of the vicinity mourn the departed grass with its guarantee of quiet. All day and all night now there are cars rushing up and down. Domain Street is good for testing brakes and gears. Auckland is progressing—ruefully. ■» . * ALBIGENSIAN BRICKS The little French town of Albi has come into the news because someone thereabouts has indulged in the objectionable pastime of vitriol-throw-ing. L.O.M. has a vicarious acquaintance with Albi. Someone once gave him a book describing the town and its people, who were formerly known as Albigenses. That always seemed one reason alone why Albi should he retained in the memory. Furthermore it has a towering brick cathedral of striking architecture, and a Bishop’s palace of equally daring design, and both these colossal buildings are constructed entirely in brick. Suggested with the object of stimulating the staple industry of some Auckland suburbs that Amalgamated Bricks, Ltd., engage L.O.M. to write a pamphlet on the brick wonders of Albi. SILENT STRINGS

Shed a tear for Domenico Nigro, the Italian musician whose death breaks up a trio that had become a local institution. Not all the notes of Domenico’s beloved strings were spent in the tavern or on the ferries. Once, at least, the trio was engaged to supply the music at an important reception given by the Victoria League. The quality and range of their art quite warranted that and any other formal engagements that were given them; but for the most part it was in quiet city lanes and on sunny harbour trips that they expended their efforts. If they solicited an acknowledgment of their work, they did so in unobtrusive fashion. No reveller or ferry passenger was ever pressed to give them support. Poor Domenico died on the job. Perhaps they will find another to take his place, and thus the trio may survive. Domenico and his associates were among the few professional musicians not affected by talking pictures or gramophones. The Ferry Company is apparently not yet alive to the possibility of fitting its palatial liners with panatropes.