PERSONALITY OF THE WEEK.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 138, 13 June 1931, Page 8

PERSONALITY OF THE WEEK.

Dr. G. Graham Russell, Port Health Officer at Auckland, was born in Glasgow and educated at the Armidale Academy in that city and a,t tlie Glasgow University, taking his medical degree. He 'practised his profession in his home ci.ty, afterwards going to London aaid practising there. Dr. Russell was medical referee for the Liverpool and London and Globe Insurance Company under the Workmen's Compensation Act. He came to New Zealand in the year 1913, and 111 the next fateful year he became Port Health Officer in Auckland. The doctor has the uncommon distinction for a British medical man of having been ship's surgeon by special certificate of the Italian Government on an Italian ship twenty-five years ago. Dr. Russell was a keen cricketer and played golf with assiduity.

NO. 20i.

"Nib" writes: If,'as you aver, the reporter makes the politician and the politician makes war, what responsibility has the reporter in the matter? I am induced to ask the question by the recent declaration of the Earl of Harewood (Princess Mary's husband) at an old soldier's show the other day. The aristocratic Guardsman was urging ex-soldiers to live up to their motto of having nothing to do with party politics, and said: "No war in which this country lias been involved has ever been created by anyone excepting the politicians." He further said that "war always emanated from the inefficiency of politicians." It is a hard saying, and the Earl should have joined the reporter (being maker of the politician) as-co-maker with-him of war.

BIT OF LOGIC.

Happily in this workaday world, wliere most things arc judged from the cash standpoint, there remain people who willingly tender unpaid services to their fellow men. During an almost record fog last week ferry boats nosed their way into their town berths with great care. A tall gentleman of military appearance stood on the end of the Prince's wharf, a silent but not immovable sentinel. As Birkenhead ferry boats rounded the wharf the look-out man dimly espied him. The gentleman could be observed, silent but efficient, vigorously waving a handkerchief towards the city wharf, for which the passing boat was bound. Having experienced this unique display of flag-wagging,, the look-out man on the next passage hailed the silent sentinel with the query,'-"Where's Devonport?" The silent figure sprang smartly to attention, made a half-turn towards the Shore, clicked his heels, and then shot out his right arm like a semaphore, but without a word. And so the ferry boat ncsed her foggy way into the city wharf, leaving the flag-wagger and human semaphore to carry on the good work.

THE SEMAPHORE.

The ex-official tells the story of the pre-financial-impasse worker who had been appointed to a job. He was warned to attend the office of the official in order to finalise arrangements. He entered the outside office, and, demanding "Where's the boss?" was shown the sacred portal. With his pipe smoking like a. destructor chimney and his hat well jammed down on his head, he swung the official's door open, said, "G'day, boss!" sat down in a chair, and said: "I come here to see about me job, mate," and entered into a hot and lengthy dissertation on past jobs and recent troubles, and so forth. The astounded official controlled himself, and said, "Now look here, Pinks, calm yourself. Just leave the room, closing the door quietly. Come back again in, say, three hours time. When you came here knock at the door. When I give you permission to enter remove your hat, enter quietly, stand until I ask you to be seated, and then you will quietly and respectfully tell me what you want to say." Pinks departed. He came back in one hundred and eighty minutes on tip-toe. He asked the clerkly tiler in a whisper if the master was in. The clerk said he was. He knocked apologetically at the door. A voice shouted, "Come in!" He opened the door without a sound, tip-toed in, and stood with his hat in his hand until spoken to. "Good afternoon!" said the master. "Good day, sir," said the man. "I've come, sir, to see about the job of work, sir, as you was kind enough to mention in the letter, sir." "Yes, well what about it?" "Xothin' about it, sir. I'm sorry I wasn't polite to you, sir, this morning when I called in, sir." "Oh, that's all right, Pinks, that's all right. What do you want to tell me?" "Oh, I only wanted to tell you that since I seen you I got a better job—and you can go where it's perpetual summer and take yer flamin' job with you!"

PINKS' JOB.

John is aged six years. He lias been nicely brought up, and his mother is careful to instruct him to be a little gentleman wherever he may go. Questioning him the other day upon school matters, she said: "And I do hope, John, that you are a good boy." And John replied: "Yes, mum, I am; I'm so good that the kids hate me."

THE CHILD MIND.