FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 812, 5 November 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” STAKING H'IS CLAIM A whale was stranded at New Brighton, Thames, last week. The hotelkeeper claimed it by carving his name on its back. You've heard of those tourists and trippers: Who carve their initials with glee, A pastime much favoured by nippers If given a suitable tree. Let simpletons practise their game on The tree that has weathered the gale. I’d much rather record my name on The back of a whale. In tribute to moments romantic Enjoyed in the cool forest glade, Some swain with illiterate antic May outline a heart with his blade; And a heart that is pierced by an arrow May signify ecstasy’s term, But I'd much rather carve near the marrow On top of a Sperm. For all the romance in creation Won’t bring you the glittering pelf To be won from a stranded cetacean, Provided you claim it yourself. And with all due respect to the Jonahs, My title I’d rather indict In a place which may yield me a bonus— The back of a Right. * * * GATHERING MOSS The Auckland Aero Club’s art Union has been won by a Mrs. Stone. That just demonstrates once again that there is absolutely nothing In a name, for even though the lady’s name happens to be Mrs. Stone, she Is never-the-less far from “Stony.” SWORDFISH FILLETS An ambassador of commerce has discovered that New York offers a market for New Zealand swordfish—regards It as a delicacy, in fact—and that there is a fortune waiting the exporter who exploits this curious whimsy. Thus once again it is demonstrated that business follows hard on the heels of sport. Of course, a liking for swordfish flesh and the meat of its near relatives has hitherto been regarded in New Zealand as an acquired taste —very much so—and there is just the danger that the swordfish meat they are selling in Manhattan may not be swordfish, but merely Long Island flounder or New England cod masquerading under another name. But if the news really Is authentic then a new era is Indeed dawning, and North Auckland marlin will be one with Canterbury mutton in bringing blessings to a grateful country. * * * TRIFLING GIFT One notes with no little joy that the old conventions which once compelled people to present their departing acquaintances with cases of pipes, ormolu clocks, travelling bags, and other articles from a very limited range, Is now being discarded. How-

ever, it appears to have been left to Auckland to place the new fashion in valedictory gifts on an altogether distinctive basis. A gentleman who left a company’s service the other day was presented by the staff with—an outboard motor engine. It is not stated whether the dainty little article was handsomely engraved, but doubtless it had the appropriate sentiments inscribed in some part or another. The growing popularity of outboard motor-boating suggests that young people will soon be getting them for birthday presents, and they may be even conferred on deserving infants by their god-parents. For this purpose as for valedictory gifts to retiring citizens they are amply suited, except that in the case of the latter claSs the gifts could hardly be accompanied by the wish that the recipient’s declining years might be spent in peace and heavenly quiet. DURIANS VILE Let us discuss tropical fruits for no particular reason except that someone last evening handed this department that monarch of tropical fruits, a paw paw, which at any rate is not so bad as handing it a raspberry. The paw paw is supposed by some to have an affinity with that other quaint vegetable, the durian, which has an excellent flavour and a questionable smell. Possibly it is the curious smell of the durian which has exalted it to such high favour. It is a fact that evil odours have an obscure attraction. Students of the subject assert that the popularity of certain fragrant cheeses cannot be separated from this phenomenon. Even the most repulsive smell is worth at least two sniffs. Moreover a vaguely remembered perfume can call back powerful memories from the past. In the circumstances it is a pity for the sake of blissful memories and potent cheeses that man’s sense of smell is gradually becoming atrophied. To preserve its olfactory powers the race will have to give uf> strong drink and tobacco. The sense of smell is obviously doomed.