FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 982, 27 May 1930, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

BURIAL OF NOTTS

“THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

When stumps were drawn in a cricket match, Hampshire v. Nottingham, one run was needed to give victory to the former eleven. On the following morning the players assembled in lounge suits and overcoats, and fieldsmen looked on while a Hampshire batsman made the winning stroke —a drive to the boundary. Not a cheer was heard, not a jubilant As a bat* to the wicket was carried, And a bowler, with muffler about his throat, Sent a slow one down to be parried. They buried Notts calmly at peep of dawn (A drive to the boundary did it), 'Mid a lounging umpire’s casual yawn, And the call “Draw stumps,” that hid it. Thus was a hollow victory won; ’Tis a farcical Hampshire story; But we’ll add not a line, and cast not a stone— Just leave them alone with their glory. CHARLES WOLFE, JUNE. TYPE IN ACADIA A quaint old link with tlie early history of Eastern Canada was severed when the “Acadian Recorder’’ of Halifax, Nova Scotia, ceased publication last week. Acadia or Acadie was the name by which Nova Scotia was officially known by the French from the time it was settled until 1713. Acadia was confused frequently with Arcadia. This must have proved particularly annoying to the French settlers who devised the name and who, at the end of their nation's sovereignty, became so dissatisfied with their lot. After the final cession of the province in 1713 they moved to Canada or were exiled in circumstances which inspired Longfellow’s poem "Evangeline.” The “Acadian Recorder,” an evening newspaper, appeared in 1813,' but clung to the old name. Its conservatism is indicated by the fact that its proprietor, Charles Blackadar, kept to the use of hand-set type. It takes fully three hours for a good man to set a column of ordinary newspaper type by hand, but with a linotype machine, a column can appear in under half an hour. Little wonder the "Acadian Recorder” perished through lack of a buyer. * * * SLEEPY DRIVERS The Picton resident, whose excuse for negligent driving was that he fell asleep at the wheel of his car, has every justification for resenting the term “novel plea” applied to his case. It is not the first time such a defence has been heard in motoring cases, nor will it be the last, for many perfectly capable motorists have fallen asleep at the wheel with more or less unhappy consequences, yet through no fault of their own. It is true that such lapses cannot be condoned yet, at times, they cannot be avoided. Long monotonous hours of driving and staring at the stretches of road ahead can have a strangely soporific effect, particularly at night. All experienced motorists know this and learn to dread it. They would be loth to describe the truthful and somewhat courageous statement of their Picton colleague as “novel.” THE COLLECTOR A few days ago one rejoiced over the sagacity of the Hamilton boy who secured family tickets for the Fanciers’ Show by entering an ordinary grey rabbit, and thus claiming an exhibitor’s privileges. Another example of clever manoeuvring in quite a different setting concerns one of the many enthusiasts who industriously save cigarette coupons to secure the alluring prizes offered. Owning a little store at a holiday resort where there is no business competition, she makes a point of stocking only one brand of cigarette—a “smoke” that is not particularly popular in this part of the country, though its coupon prizes are varied and attractive. Thus, when her customers buy cigarettes, they seldom bother with the coupons and, at her request, hand them over. The result of the ruse is apparent in her home, which is well stocked with prizes. WHAT'S IN A NAME Tired as she was, a shopper in Queen Street yesterday afternoon managed to smile when she encountered a grocer who knew not the details of his own wares. The order was for soup—vegetable soup. The shopman mounted steps and surveyed a row of tins marked with such names as “Tomato,” “Pea,” and “Julienne.” Returning, he expressed regret that vegetable soup was not to be had. “But,” he added brightly, “we have asparagus soup, or Juvenile.” After ail, a soup by any other name . . . Anyway, the grocer may be a blood relation of she girl in a suburban store who, while checking j a domestic order recently entrusted to the L.0.M.. asked him if he had I specified “dedicated coconut.” Mai- j apropisms often run in families. [