FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 889, 5 February 1930, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

HARD LABOUR “Isn’t there any chance o£ making the sentence hard labour?” asked a prisoner of Mr. Justice Smith, at the Supreme Court. Vaguely he expressed dissatisfaction with reformative detention. Give me a pick. It makes me sick, This idle life you mention. I want hard work, and so I shirk Reformative detention. Forbear to spoil my chance to toil: The search has lasted ages, And now you see there’s work for me I do not ask for wagesr —M.P.W. IN THE CELL Any courthouse cell such as that to which an Auckland prisoner after he had been freed, insisted upon returning, “because he had left his hat behind,” looks what, it usually is-—a gloomy little half-way house between the dock and the gaol. Here men endure nerve-wracking minutes while awaiting trial or sentence; here- are their pleas thought out and their chances of success reviewed. Often prisoners have scraps of lead pencil with which they scribble messages to their successors. A court cell in one New Zealand centre is renowned for the number and variety of these messages, scrawled on seats and walls. Many are historic enough to merit preservation. “Gawd help you if its Judge ,’’ runs one warning, hut under this is written. “He’s all right, but ’s a cow.” Similar pleasantries are to be found everywhere, together with signatures, followed by brief descriptions of offences and numbers of convictions. The walls of this cell are fully as interesting as those of any long-used theatre dressing room, though, of course, in a different and much more pathetic way.

ODD CRAFT Now that an Auckland pioneer has led the way there seems no reason why the floating bicycle (agua-cvcle would be a suitable name) should not become popular on the Waitemata. Furthermore, pedal propulsion might ■ be utilised with advantage in small craft such as canoes and light “flatties.” Of course, Mr. A. Sands, who made an appearance mounted on a floating bicycle at Point Chevalier is by no means a pioneer. Bicycles fitted with floats have been in more or less popular existence for some years, and history relates that a Dover man once attempted to cross to France on a tubular-steel steed. History, however, omits to relate whether or not he reached Calais. Nevertheless, the Waitemata is much narrower than the Straits of Dover, and North Shore residents might feel persuaded to cut down their daily transport costs by cycling to and from business. We would then become familiar with this sort of news item: “What might have heen a serious accident was narrowly averted in the harbour last evening when Horace Blank, a cyclist, was picked up by a ferry boat. Blank was pedalling up the side of a wave when spray put out bis light. He ran into a patch of seaweed, which became tangled in his chain and threw him into the water.” ANOTHER MODEL The pedal idea for the propulsion of boats has been adapted, with certain. modifications, for use on surfThe board is fitted on its under-sides, with a small screw affixed to a raised shaft, the top of which is equipped with T-shaped gearing. This connects the shaft with a pair of handles mounted on a smaller shaft running from side to side of the board. The operator merely lies outstretched on the board, winds the handies, and . . . away he goes. Yet another modification of the general system is to be seen in each of the life-boats on the liner Rangitane. Instead of oars there are a series of levers connected with a shaft leading to a propellor. .So it may be seen that outboard motors have not yet got things all their own way. COURAGEOUS POET It is something to find a New Zealand poet courageous enough to laud the verse of his country before a London literary audience; even though his assertions may meet with polite ridicule. Mr. Geoffrey de Montalk, whose poems are published frequently in The Sun, has won for himself quite a generous measure of cable space by asserting that “New Zealand produced better poetry than Shakespeare ever thought of,” Few indeed are likely to agree with the warm-hearted outburst of this impulsive hut likeable New Zealander; yet he will have achieved an effect of considerable value if his comparison succeeds in drawing attention in the Homeland to his contemporaries and their work. In fact, it is not unlikely that the utterance was made with this end in view. Everyone in the publicity business knows that nothing qjlvertises literature, be it prose or verse, better than a provocative statement followed by brisk public comment, so New Zealand writers planning to place their wares on the London market should strike while the iron, heated by Mr. de Montalk, still glows.