FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 814, 7 November 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” THE COLUMNIST'S JOB “If you can master adjectives and adverbs, And sprinkle here and there a verb or two ; If you can spatter elongated phrases, Elaborate sweet nothings all askew; If you can make a bit of slang artistic, Or even cuss a bit without offence, And yet can handle liifalutin language To make it sound like wholesome common sense ; “If you can make a verbal ray of sunshine To make one person chuckle, even grin ; If you can find and chronicle a virtue From out the news that's teeming so with sin ; If you can make your readers see the rainbow Before the storm has really spent its strength ; If you can mix philosophy with humour Yet keep your column clean throughout its length ; “If you can please the literists and peasants, And draw the praise of both, offending Tf neither fear nor fame can mar your efforts, And you can feel your conscience clear when done ; If you can fill the ever gaping column, With words of wisdom pleasing to the mob ; Then yours the title and what’er goes with .* it And what is more you’ll prosper on the job.” Dustin D. Rhodes (U.S.A.) PARKING PROBLEMB Tlie freedom of Queen Street hitherto conferred on motorists, and graciously accepted, seems to be threatened by those unreasonable people, the police. As a result of a little unseemly activity yesterday there may be less casual parking of cars at all angles and with their nearest wheels anything up to three or four feet from the kerb. The city may thereby become a little safer for pedestrians and also for those motorists who do trouble to observe the' parking regulations. In fact, if this indecorous harrying process is carried a little further, the rows of parked cars may even assume an orderly appearance. THOSE BAD OLD DAYS The rare occasions when Queen Street is comparatively free of traffic give the unreasonably young, or the old who are blessed with short memories, some idea of what the busiest street in New Zealand looked like in the dear days gone by when there were no motor-cars to harass the foot-slogging public. But the picture, even of a Queen Street deserted by cars, would not be complete without a cab rank in the middle of the road, and lines of horses tethered to the hitching posts which were spaced at decent intervals. It seems a far cry from 1929 to the days of hitching posts in Queen Street. Yet the last of the quaint anachronisms was removed only a year ago. It stood outside His Majesty’s Arcade, and is now gathered to its fathers among the curios in front of the library. MAORIS OF THE MOMENT A sidelight is shed on the diffusion of Maori and European blood by the intimation that if the New Zealand Rugby Union insisted on its new definition that a Maori, for the purposes of football, was nothing lighter than a half-caste, Maori Rugby would be “killed” in the South Island. Accordingly the union has relaxed its definition, and three-quarter whites may now participate as Maoris. Rugby crowds will therefore continue to enjoy the spectacle or a red-headed wing-threequarter scoring a try, and ' a big blonde forward kicking goals, while their dusky team mates look on and applaud. It is a nice tribute to the advancement of ethnology that the survival of Rugby among the South Island natives should determine the boundaries of a race. POLSON PRINCIPLE Mr. W. J. Poison, who is still in trouble over collect telegrams, claims that in refusing delivery of collect wires sent him by too responsive local bodies he was simply upholding a definite principle. It is a very wise principle, too, the assumption being that people who send collect wires are not the bearers of good tidings. Yet there might be an occasion when the rejection of a collect wire would cost a man some such personal gain as a large legacy or a win in an art union. In Mr. Poison’s case his rejection of the wires for the benefit of his principles has certainly cost him his popularity with the local bodies that responded *to his circulars with telegrams. He claims that there was no urgency about his circulars—that he could have waited for a reply by mail. The county councils made the somewhat childish error of assuming that a politician would be in a hurry. Yet even had they sent their replies by collect mail ’there is no guarantee that Mr. Poison would have paid his twopence with e. smile.