RANDOM NOTES.

Grey River Argus, 18 June 1927, Page 1 (Supplement)

RANDOM NOTES.

(By a Rolling Stone.) Wednesday last would have been memorable on account of the eclipse of the moon, but it will remain still more memorable than any lunar phenomenon could make it by reason of the eclipse of the Canadian team. I propound a query: Which was the greater surprise, the fate of the Canadians in the match, or the fate of the West Coast team? Most people had expected the visitors to complete their tour unbeaten; it is safe to say not a single person in the whole country expected the West Coast, of all places, to field a team that would conquer the men who had beaten all before them. It

was a great victory—no greater in football prestige has fallen to the West Coast—and it was due primarily to the great defensive game played by the winners, rather than to anything else. It will make football history, and may put the Coast on the Soccer map permanently, because it must inspire players to try and maintain such a reputation as the win must confer. At anyrate, it is only fair to expect the New Zealand selectors to give any lief to West Coast players in future' There is only one other point I would like to note here. It is that the great majority of the players in Wednesday’s match were by birth neither Canadians nor New Zealanders, but came from the Old Country, where our Rugby repute is deservedly so high. The one fact seems to throw light on the other. The moon scarcely disappeared from view, under the shadow of our planet the other night, and I’ve seen in Australia partial eclipses during which the face of our satellite was mostly quite obliterated. ]t seems, at anyrate, the view here was the best possible. So close is the moon, that it is the best known object outside the earth. As it has no vapour to hide its featfires, du study of its surface has given an accurate idea of what the eventual fate of all celestial wanderers may be. The most curious feature of the moon is the wav its . is pitted with giant •• ‘ . in. yof them miles across and often 20,000 i tor more in depth. A lofty wall of earth and rock thrown up around the edge adds to the depth of the valleys, which sometimes have in centre a mountain nearly as high the surrounding rim. Scientists ' long believed that the craters are pnflbably the marks of some long ago bombardment of the moon by huge meteors. Millions of meteors every year come within the earth** ; ruction, but comparatively few actually strike. Travelling at tremendous velocity, they are heated to incandescence by friction with the air as soon as they enter it, and are burned up, as a rule, before they can reach the earth. They are familiar as 4 ‘falling stars.” But when a meteor gets too near the

moon and is drawn to it there is no atmosphere to burn it up, so the mass strikes the moon with full force. The (’rater Theophilus on the moon is the central depression. The vast, hole .s 18,000 feet deep, and the central mountain, which casts the black shadow, stands 10,000 feet high. It is indeed a fine light which the Railway Department has placed upon our wharf, but its provision now only goes to show how behindhand were the old arrangements. No doubt, the a -

vent of electricity is in a sense responsible, and doubtless also the addition of further similar lights in locates that th -4 Department expect this wharf to become very busier in future than it is now. It is one of the few wharves belonging to the Department, and it s certainly an asset well worth exploiting. At anyrate, I’d not recommend the man with the motor who does the pilfering at night to try his luck down Richmond Quay way. The discovery of a robber’s cave beneath our hotel do ville has set tongues busy with conjectures as to the type of individual likely to be responsible. It has, at least, served to identify sev-

eral thefts with the one party, and this may simplify in one way the task of the police. It has been suggested that the thing has been the joke of somebody with a motor car. No doubt, however, if the goods could safely be planted where they were found, the danger for the perpetrator would be less that of being found himself than that of the goods being discovered. It is even said the owners of the articles were the first to learn where they had been secreted, but I cannot vouch for this. If they were, the person who put them wise must have repented, or concluded the completion of the theft

would be too risky. What I was interested to learn was that nobody found any whisky or schnapps. It is far easier, however, to conceal whisky than carpets or cameras. I could prove that any old time with pleasure. The only certainty elicited in the lengthy inquiry into the disaster at the Dobson colliery is that the cause is a thing of no certainty. Witnesses lean to different theories, such as a blownout shot, an electrical spark, or a forgotten lamp; and one set of theories places the originating point somewhere in the lower workings, while the other fixes it in the higher ones. There is, however, a general belief that the coal dust should have been neutralised. The whole thing goes to emphasise the need for the utmost care on the part of everyone in a coal mine. Evidently, instead of being no more dangerous than the open street (as one coal magnate some time ago asserted, before the motors were killing so many), a colliery seems to be no safer than the [ open sea. I was struck so much by the complaint of the District Health Officer last week to the Licensing Committee that a publican had enclosed a pillow in a flour bag that I could not sleep till I went and had a look for myself at such

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a terrible spectacle. I was not unmindful of tablecloths, pinafores, curtains, “singlets,” and many other things I had seen which the splendid ingenuity of economical mothers of families had inspired them to create with deft needles. And so I "went and shouted for the licensee with this pillow which so excited the ire of the Health personage, and casually mentioned I was interested to know what brand of flour it was that was printed on the bag from which he had had manufactured a pillow slip. “Oh, you can have a look,” he said, “and at the same time see the matresses, rooms, balcony, and parlour he complained about.” The pillow, however, was disappointing to me. I could see no sign of a flour bag at all. “Where, have you hidden it?” I said. “Where it was before the Health Officer saw it,” was the reply. “Where is that?” said I. “Under the pillow slip,” said he. It seems the flour bag was quite alright where it was, but that the Health personage was hard up for something to complain over. At anyrate, I had a look at every mattress in the place, and it was clean and whole. The balcony was in good repair. The bedrooms were all airy, clean, and good enough for anybody, except those who reckon they would adorn the famous sleeping chamber of the Bourbon Kings in the Palace of Versailles. I was mystified. 1 asked for an explanation. The licensee merely said the explanation was a story that would keep till a more Opportune occasion. So I’m minded to call and shout again for him before next week.