FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 815, 8 November 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” DEPARTING GUEST On the Supplementary Estimates is an amount of £75 for packing the private effects of retiring Ministers after the last election. It’s only a brief twelve months ago, Or rather less, to be quite exact, Since each Minister staggered beneath the blow. He was beaten, routed, evicted, sacked ! Election figures conveyed the fact, But what did it profit to chew the rag, For gone was the margin, once intact. So he summoned his batman to pack his bag. They folded the tailored broadcloth coat, And the trousers striped in a tasteful grey. And then, with a lump in the statesman’s throat, His silken topper they stowed away. But all, the stress of that poignant day Was much relieved- by the tactful fag Who hovered about in his helpful way. And helped the victim to pack his bag! THE CASUAL APPEAL Devonport’s unofficial fish market has frequently brought joy to householders In the past. It is tempting to see a bunch of schnapper dangled In front of the eyes, an*l prices always seem far cheaper when the purchase Is made In an unorthodox way without the formalities of counters and cash registers. That same weakness in human psychology must be the explanation of the roaring business frequently done by door to door hawkers. Commodities peddled in the streets appear as wonderful bargains. Then it is discovered later that the same article in better condition could have been purchased in a shop. Still, the old humqn weaknesses will exhibit themselves at times; only there will be less cljance for them at Devonport now that the Harbour Board is closing its passenger wharf to fish vendors and the Borough Council Is being "similarly exclusive with regard to its footpaths. KIWI FARM When London seems to be dry of news, and there Is no other young woman who can be nominated as a possible fiancde for the Prince of Wales, the English gossip-writer turns to New Zealand. Take, for instance, a little paragraph in the gossip columns of the “Dally Mirror:” Kiwi for the Table I am fold that the matter of farming the kiwi, a. New Zealand flightless bird, for the table is under consideration. It is about the size of a chicken and lays a very large egg for its bulk. They are said to be excellent eating, and could be brought to this country with the mutton. So very soon we may expect hordes of optimistic young immigrants arriving in the country to farm our kiwis for us! SHIPS THAT PASS Having made a favourable impression on Auckland the Rangitiki departs this evening. Though it was actually her second voyage, she came here a new ship. Next time she comes she will be an old one. The novelty will have departed. It is a sad reflection that once a ship becomes a regular acquaintance she sheds much of her majesty and glamour. The Rangitiki will in a month or two be one with the Aorangi, though several years younger. She will continue to traverse her long ocean highways, maintaining with the uncanny precision of modern shipmasters the appointments planned months ahead, and performing in all weathers the useful works of a world that loves to travel either personally or by proxy. But in the meantime there will be other new ships. The Rangitane and the Rangitata have yet to come. There is to be- a newer and greater Aorangi on the Vancouver run. Thus new favourites arrive, and old ones go back a notch or two; for ships, like other faithful friends, have their day. CLOSE A T HAND Auckland Chamber of Commerce is a very alert and enterprising body. Witness the fact that another Commerce t.i ain is about to go on tour. This idea was set afoot by the Auckland Chamber. There is also the Auckland Chamber of Coriimerce journal, an improved and still improving paper. The latest number depicts the Winterless North, and does it very well. All of which prefaces the disclosure that Dr. E. P. Neale, the man largely responsible for the Chamber’s wider scope and influence, looked at the clock in the Chamber of Commerce ball at least a dozen times—or so it seemed — when lecturing there the other evening, before it dawned on his mind, rightfully preoccupied , with other matters, that the clock was not going Furthermore, it has not been going for some time. This goes to show that a man is sometimes least conscious of his most intimate surroundings. It is told of a noted pioneer, Mr. J. C. Firth, that inside his famous old flour mill in Queen Street he was entirely unconscious of the sound of the machines. But when he got to his home he could hear the distant hum of industry quite clearly.