GIANT MONSTERMAN'S PHOTOGRAPH

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 234, 2 October 1937, Page 3 (Supplement)

GIANT MONSTERMAN'S PHOTOGRAPH

(By Sam Rlx, Ledbury Hill, Walton.)

Giant Monsterman lathered his face with a brush bigger than a street sweeper's broom, and, picking up his safety razor, removed the bristle with a louder rasping than a sawmill at work. "Ah," he smiled, peering into the mirror with a satisfied air when the task was completed, "I'm really not so very ugly after all." Having put on his collar and tie, he again gazed thoughtfully at his reflection for a few moments.

"H'm,'' lie muttered, "now I've thrown my lion skin and club away and gone quite modern, I really ought to get a nice photograph of myself. I'll ring up a photographer now, before I change my mind."

After a long search through a jumble of clothes, newspapers and unwashed plates he found a telephone book and scanned its pages.

"Is that the Snappit Photography Studio?" he asked, after fumbling with the dial for a long time. "Sorry, sir, wrong number. This is Lamb and Mint, butchers," said a loud voice, and the giant scowled in annoyance. He dialled again, his heavy fingers sprawled half across the telephone. "No," answered a voice to his question. "This is the police station—" The giant banged down the receiver in sudden anger and anxiously tried again. "Is that the Snappit Photography Studio?" he asked wearily. "Yes," replied a sharp voice, so suddenly that Giant Monsterman jumped in alarm. "Er—you gave me quite a start; you see I'm not used to telephones—" he began. 'T see," said the voic§ politely, "and what can I do for you, sir?" "Well, I'd like to have a photograph of myself to hang on the wall of my cave." "I see, sir. When would it be most suitable for you to make an appointment with us?" "Oh, as soon as possible." "Then could you call at half past nine on Tuesday morning, sir?" "> T o! Certainly not! I—l quite forfrot; it's impossible!" exclaimed Giant Monsterman.

"Why, sir?" asked the photographer. "I'm a giant, you see, and you can't imagine a giant striding along the streets of a town, even in 1937. Now, can you ?" "Hardly, sir; but—but—" "Don t get alarmed. Tin a nice, mild giant, quite up-to-date and everything," reassured the giant, smiling. ° "Then, that being the case, sir, how am I to take your photograph?" "H'ln, that's a problem. I know! You 11 just have to visit me. My address is Boulder Cliffs, Pine Crags, and you'll be able to reach my cave quite easily if you follow a track on the left bank of the river, near the bridge. Cheerio!" Three days later a dusty figure panted up the narrow, winding track leading to the giant's cave, a heavy camera over one shoulder. "Ah ha! Here he comes at last," chuckled Giant Monsterman, giving a final brisk polish to his huge boots with a dish cloth. t "Phew, that was the hardest climb I've ever had in my life!" gasped the photographer, staggering up to the entrance of the giant's cave. He mopped his face with a handkerchief, and, hearing a laugh, looked up in amazement, to find the giant beaming down on him.

hardly expected you to be so big!" he gasped in awe. and the giant threw back his head and laughed so loudly that the echoes rumbled like thunder in the mountain passes. hat did you expect, I warned you that I was a. large man, didn't I?" asked the Giant. "Yes, yes. of course, but you're nearlv sixty feet hitrh!" ell you'd hardly imagine a giant to he less, come now. and take mv photograph." The photographer set up his camera on its tripod, while Giant Monsterman tried out half a dozen different smiles in his mirror. Except for his legs, however, the photographer had disappeared again, so the Giant took a quick peep at his mirror to see that he had the right smile on, and tilted his head down towards the camera. For a few moments the camera wobbled and jerked a.s though the photographer was sneezing, and nothing happened. Giant Monsterman felt impatient, and then realising that he was scowling, hastily smiled again. "1 in afraid it's no use," complained the photographer, bobbing out, from under the cloth and looking unhappy. "Why, what's the matter?" asked the Giant in surprise. "I can only get part of you in the picture. you're so big." explained the man. '"That's serious, I never thought of that! ' gasped the Giant in consternation. "T didn't either." -said the photographer. looking dejected. "Perhaps if you only took a photograph of ni.v face that would be enough; after all, it's the most important part." smiled the Giant, feeling more cheerful. "A splendid idea, s:r!" the photographer exclaimed,, brightening up

immediately. Before he could utter another word, Giant Monsterman lifted him up, car.:era and all, and held him out at arm's length. "Now hurry!" he shouted, "because I can't hold my arm out like this for long!" The photographer sat up in the palm of the Giant's hand and hurriedly begiin to adjust his camera again. "Come, can't you hurry more, my arm's beginning to ache!" warned the Giant. In his haste the photographer tripped and fell forward on his camera, which collapsed, and he sprawled into the Giant's palm, struggling to ri9e. "Oh! oh! You're tickling me!" shrieked the Giant, restraining a violent desire to rub his hand against something. Trembling with excitement the photographer managed to scramble to his feet, and once again set up the camera. "Are you ready!" lie called. Giant Monsterman smiled and as he did so he heard a faint click. "There," breathed tlie photographer in relief, "I've taken your photograph."

The giant carefully set him down on the table, and, searching through a confusion of tins, brought out a long roll of stale cake and an enormous loaf of bread and thumped them down on a dirty plate. Filling two mugs with clear spring water, he set one down beside his guest and emptied his with one gulp. "Excuse me, but I'm not at all hungry, thank you very much," said the photographer, eyeing the mouldy loaf. The giant stared at him in amazement. "Why the thundering volcanoes aren't you ? I'm always hungry, even after a biff meal," he exclaimed. "I—l've a very poor appetite," muttered the photographer. "Tut! Nonsense! You must have something to eat, little fellow, or you'll be too weak to carry your camera home," said the giant firmly. "But—l—l—" protested the photographer. "\ou must! You shall! You are going to eat something!" roared Giant Monsterman, bringing his fist down with a crash on the table in sudden rage. "Yes, certainly—certainly!" cried the photographer in alarm. In a moment the giant was 9miling again, and, breaking a huge piece of bread from the loaf, he chewed it noisily and winked at the photographer.

Bewildered bv the giant's rapidly changing moods, the photographer shrugged his shoulders and decided to make the best of it. Balancing himself on the edge of his mug, he managed to scoop up a handful of the water, and as he bent eagerly down Giant Monsterman touched him playfully with the tip -of a knife, and he fell in'with a splash. He was assifited on to the table again with a spoon, and after he had managed to stuff himself with some of the stale cake he thanked Giant Monsterman for his hospitality and with a thankful sigh of relief set off down the winding track. "Splendid! Magnificent! I hope he develops the photograph the moment he get home. What a fine picture it'll make, too!" chuckled the giant from the entrance of Lie cave.

Tired and irritable, the photographer took a key from his pocket and let himse into his studio. He unwound the i>lack cloth from around the camera, and then a second later his mouth fell open ■ n shocked dismay. In his excitement he had forgotten to put in the plate, and, alas, there was no photograph. ROUND TOWERS. Scattered about Ireland there are to ne round numerous examples of a peculiar kind of tower that has been the cause of much speculation among antiquarians. These towers are very much bke modern lighthouses in appearance. They rise aloft, tall and slender, tapering toward the top. and some crowned with a conic-al cap of stone. In height they vary from 60 to 130 ft and the highest of all was that at Kilcullen. At one time there existed 120 of these towers, but now most of them are in ruins, and only some eighteen or twenty are in a more or less perfect condition.

Nobody knows precisely for what purpose they were built, and for want of a better name they are universally known as the "Kouiul Towers of Irela nd."

It was once thought that they were erected for some form of heathen religion, such as sun-worship or other Eastern rites. J his, however, cannot be since they are <"11 situated cither quite close to or in the neighbourhood of a church. Of course, it could ho said that the towers were first in existence, mid the churches wire then built near to them, but it must, be borne in mind that although the towers arc of various dates, from perhaps the eighth to ihe thirteenth century, nevertheless even the oldest was built in Christian times. Indeed. crosses and other Christian emblems are to be found among the carved decorations of their doors and windows.