FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1028, 19 July 1930, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By

"THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

AN EPISODE Although territorial training has been suspended, members of the Defence Department’s permanent staff are being retained in their present positions. “No more drill: Excuse my mirth, sir. But I’ve thought of something funny— See that pestilence in civvies With a round and ruddy face? Well, he used to be my sergeant. And they paid him public money To be crushing and abusive— Watch me put him in his place!’’ . . f . “Here now, fellow! My name’s Pudson— Yes, you used to call me ‘Pudding’—You were beastly rude and vulgar; Hearty cheers for Mr. CobbeXW ha—what’s that? Oh—X—er—pardon, 1 asstire you I was kidding! . . . (Gee, that heavy-handed blighter Still retains a sergeant’s job!)” —M.E. CRACKS IN CONCRETE By no stretch of imagination can 1930 be described as a lucky year for concrete. Throughout the country this universally-used material is giving rise to as much worry aud talk as the unemployment problem. First Auckland was alarmed by cracks in the concrete at Arapuni. Now the Panmure Bridge is giving trouble and the Manukau County's assistant engineer has announced that it appears to l>e failing as did a large bridge at Karaka built under similar conditions. To cap all it is admitted that cracks have appeared in the walls of the generating station at Lake Coleridge, although, to be sure, it is explained that this is not giving concern to the experts on the spot. Without wishing to doubt such an assurance the D.O.M. must confess that the appearance of cracks in the concrete wall of any building sheltering him would give him a great deal of concern. Clearly when it comes to questions of engineering, ignorance is not always bliss. MOURNFUL MAGGIE By rights a paragraph in today’s ! column should he devoted to football, i hut the L.O.M. has decided to be both j obstinate and original. In any case his learned colleagues have filled many square inches elsewhere in this issue with discussions, both weighty and airy, of Rugby, past and present. So we will shoulder our way out of Eden Park, wander down to the waterfront and take a peep at Mournful Maggie. There she is at the end of the breakwater at Mechanic’s Bay. No, not that tall post—a small affair like a box or something, just above the rocks. That’s Mournful Maggie. She may not he large, but she attracts attention. In the morning ' mist she moans and wails dismally like a lost soul in some murky purgatory. If you live in the vicinity or in a marine suburb you cannot escape her lamentations. She wakens you before dawn and. long before break-fast-time. she has reduced you to a state of gloomy pessimism. The worst of it is that she can be heard for miles. The further you are away the louder she seems to sound. Cannot something be done by an obliging mechanic to cheer up Mournful Maggie, Auckland’s most doleful fog signal? * * • BLAME THE SUNSPOTS! If there be anything in the theory that the activities of sunspots affect the doings of men in certain definite ways, a sunspot peculiarly unsettling to legislators must have made an appearance on Thursday. In London’s House of Commons. Mr. J. Beckett (Labour) threatened to revert to the primitive. He seized the Mace (an article which, despite its sedate ornamentation and traditional sacredness, at a pinch could be turned to quite good account as a weapon), and was on his way toward an exit when he was disarmed by an attendant. In the Auckland City Council Chamber an uproar followed a move to cut short the oratory of Cr. Lundon, the scene as a whole justifying the blunt title of "municipal bear-garden.” The pity of it is that these performances are not advertised in advance. It is quite certain that a goodly number of Londoners would have been delighted to pay for the privilege of seeing a Labour member purloin the Mace, while Aucklanders would derive more amusement out of Cr. Lundon than is to be gleaned at the best of wrestling matches. In other words, they would rather be entertained by Lundon than Lundyn any night.

* * v FAIR DINKUM This one is vouched for by a visiting wrestler: An Australian interviewer called on an American wrestler, who was paying his first visit to Sydney, and to whom the Aussie idioms of speech were as yet somewhat of a mystery. Interviewer: Are you going to wrestle fair dinkum tonight? Wrestler: No, not tonight; but I’m willing to. What’s his weight?