RANDOM SHOTS

Auckland Star, Volume 55, Issue 152, 28 June 1924, Page 18

RANDOM SHOTS

ZAMWC

Someone complains about tlie negative qualities of the Government. It is certainly Buffering from overexposure.

Cashmere hose was advertised this week at so much a yard. I thought they generally measured stockings by feet. These nuist be for "daughters of the gods, divinely ta11 , ." If the Symonds Street people wish us to believe that shopping in Symonds Street saves time, as well as fares and money, they might see that their bril-liantly-lighted clock keeps going. To sec it standing still at 12.15 when you are going to work in the morning is not the best of advertisements. Mr. Schramm : Dn you swenr your property is u.it valued at £10,000? The Magistrate :Do not bo absurd. The whole of Mercer is not worth' £10,000. It is easy to see that when the magistrate travels from Wellington by the express he sleeps in a bed ajid does not endure the iitful fever of a night in a chair. Otherwise he would know that for that cup of strong tea at dawn Mercer is priceless. "Ladies are of just as much importance, and their lives arc just as valuable as the lives of men," said tlie borough inspector in tlie Police Court at New Plymouth last week when prosecuting several young ladies for riding bicycles at night without lights. Do we understand from this that "gentlemen" are more valuable than "ladies," or that "women" are less valuable than "gentlemen;" , Cynics and telephone grumblers all over the world should bo grateful to General Chen Wu, Commissioner of Police at Canton. The general tried to telephone his office on urgent business. The operator was slow and lectured him for being too hasty. The general sent for her, made a short on the subject of courtesy, ajid Bent her to prison for a few days. I hear a chorus of "Servo her right," and "Oh, for a General Wu!" but I would like to hear the girl's side of the story. How many subscribers rang at the earn , * xioment as the general? I wouldn't eend telephono operators to prison. If anybody had to go there it would be some of the subscribers who think the service exists for themselves alone, and especially persons who chip in on a party wire when someone else is using it. The controversy about steer roping at Wembley should make some people think, for the treatment of animals is full of anomalies. If it is cruel to rope cattle and break their legs in the process, is it not cruel to hunt a fox and let dogs tear him to pieces, or to pursue a deer that has been kept in captivity? Gently-nurtured women, who shrink from killing or hurting a domestic animal, are proud to accept the "brush" (if a fox that has been hunted to a violent and bloody end. 'Twonltl ring the bplls of Heaven Tho wildest penl of years. If rarsoii lost his senses And people came to theirs. And he nnd they together Kiielt down with nnjrry prayers For turned and shabby tigers And dancing dogs and bears. And wretched blind pit ponies. And little hunted hares. Some of us may live to see fie day when these lines of Ralph Hodgson's express a feeling so widespread that there will be at least a considerable decline in the hunting of animals for sport. That must have been a lively scene in the French Chamber of Deputies when one side sang "The Marseillaise" and the other "The Internationale' If any Scotsman was present in the strangers' gallery it must have delighted him by reminding him of such an experience as the Highlander described with relish. "We were in Sandy MacDonalil's cottage, and there six pipers playing different tunes, and, mon, it was heavenly!" The constitutionalists, however must have had an advantage over the Communists, for "The Marseillaise" is one of the world's most splendid tunes, and "Thp Internationale" is—well, Mr. Bernard Shaw, who may be presumed to have some sympathy with its sentiments, has described it as "the funeral march of a fripd eel." So the patriots probably had the better of the contest. In a later disturbance one of the Communists stood on a seat and swung bis belt around him. An excellent weapon is a belt, especially when there is a heavy buckle on the end. The British Army found that out long ago (see Mr. Kipling on the subject), so much so that, so told, the wearing of bolts was prohibited when a soldier was ofT duty. .Most men, however, are denied tlie use of this weapon in an emergency by the fact that they wear braces. I suppose Communists consider braces a badge of bourgeois servitude. NAVIGATING AUCKLAND. . . . As we turned into Symonds Street from Khyher Pass, eight bells went, and the cry of the look-out man on the bonnet came to us musically: "Twelve o'clock and all's well. Lights burning bright." The skipper made a beautiful turn past the ffcst danger zone ("safety-zones" the Auckland people call them), the red light of which glared at us malevolently. The directional wireless was N now in use, and, helped by it, we turned slowly into Karangaliape Road and Upper "Queen Street without mishap. By this time the man on the bonnet was heaving the lead, and I felt a thrill as I heard him call, "By the deep, nine." We were soon into the worst of the shoals—that lying between the intersection of Queen and Wellesley Streets and the wharf, and I never admired the skipper so much as I did as I watched his calm, clear-cut, resolute face, and saw his strong, steady hands grip the steering wheel. We almost grazed the zone at Wellesley Street, and he said to mc grimly, "That's as close as I care to be." Slowly and carefully we navigated this treacherous stretch, and I was feeling really safe, when —alas—there was a bump, and there we were hard and fast on the zone at the bottom of Queen Street, with the light mocking at us from above. "I don't know how I did it," the skipper said bitterly. "Thirty years in cars and my first right under the light, too. It must have been hypnotism. Ah, well, there's nothing for it, I suppose. Get the boats ready there in case she slips off and sinks. I suppose this means my ticket." (At this I woke up.)