FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 896, 13 February 1930, Page 10

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

NAVAL DISCUSSIONS Writes a Correspondent: While seated in a tramcar yesterday, I became aware of weighty conversation being carried on behind me. The speakers were obviously of the Big Navy group—no pacificism entered into their make-up. “Yes, she is dreadfully upset,” said one voice. “I went to see her last night about it. She considers that, if they are allowed to go on, we shall have no navy left.” “Isn’t it awful to think of?” said the other speaker. “Yes, something should be done to stop them . . .” So it went. A little later the tram stopped, and the speakers moved toward the exit. When they came into my line of vision, I beheld two dear old ladies, frail but earnest. Should . Mr. Ramsay MacDonald he told of this? MARATHON FLIGHT Geographically New Zealand is a deceptive country. Its shape and longitudinal position confuse even its oldest inhabitants who would be prepared to swear at any time that the South Island lies south of Wellington, whereas due south of Wellington there is nothing but the vasty deep. Similarly one is apt to think, when Captain J. Hewitt announces that he will attempt a non-stop flight from Dunedin to Auckland, that in earning out his intention of following the general route of the ibain trunk lines instead of coming direct, he will cover a good deal of unnecessary ground. Actually Captain Hewitt, if the damage to his machine does not cause a cancellation of his plans, will add little more than 50 miles to his journey. Yet, were he to fly in a direct line, nearly half his journey would be across the open sea. He would fly over Oamaru and a mile or two to the east of Timaru, leave the South Island a few miles to the west of Nelson, pass a little west of Mount Egmont and New Plymouth and, from there, face the open ocean until the Auckland peninsula showed up. AN EXCITING MOMENT -

One of the first distance fligiits attempted in New Zealand was one from Invercargill to Timaru, which took place fully ten years ago in the days when the Wigram company was in operation. Two directors of the company, a son of one of the directors, and a pilot left the airdrome at Invercargill in an old-type D.H. For a time all went well and Gore and Dunedin were passed safely. But the day was hot and the exhaust-pipe from the motor was glowing red. The vibration caused the stays which held it to work loose and finally it touched the fuselage. Instantly the fabric charred and smoked ominously. Realising what had happened the pilot put down the nose of the machine and went into a steep dive which did not slacken until he flattened out to land. Meanwhile, with hands burned and blistered the youngest member of the party (now a promising actor) tore frantically at the burning fabric The airplane landed safely in a field outside Oamaru, and the fire was extinguished, but the older members of the party have never flown since! A DEVONPORT GODIVA. In spite of one of many by-laws , insisting on a two-piece costume being worn by bathers at Devonport, one buxom woman ventured to show an utter disregard for such restrictions at- Cheltenham Beach one afternoon this week. She was described by an eye-witness as one of the “fat, fair and forty” type, and he had every opportunity for giving a detailed description of her appearance. It appears doubtful whether the disregard of the by-law was wilful and intentional, but the two pieces in some way came degommv fas the French so prettily put it), and the wearer was not too certain which was upper and lower in struggling into them again. Tnere was a rush of sympathisers with overcoats, towels, and other temporary aids to decorum, but all were rejected by the Godiva with contempt. The unrehearsed incident was closed by the arrival of the local sergeant in mufti, and a young police gallant in uniform. They persuaded the bather to join them in a tax! ride, and the crowd dispersed. TWO IN ONE

Short story enthusiasts these days are expected to possess lively imaginations, but the most voracious of readers prefers to take his tales one at a time. A contemporary sheet, however, introduces the novelty of presenting portions of two stories as one:, and the junction is arranged with telling: suspense. Thus: “Immediately the girl flung herself across him, pressing the red-hot end of the lighter into his face as she fumbled for the jewellers, in Bond Street, you know.” Thus one column ends, and another begins. Can this be a new form of the subtle “Continued in Our Next” system?