HALCOMBE.

Rangitikei Advocate and Manawatu Argus, Volume XXXVI, Issue 10479, 15 October 1912, Page 7

HALCOMBE.

From Our Own Correspondent. A meeting of our cricket club was held on Saturday, Mr A. Purkiss presiding. The following officers were elected: —Patron, Mr D. H. Guthrie, M.P. ; president, Mr J. Morrison; vice-presidents, Messrs Managh, McElroy, McLennan, H. Corufoot, W. Pergusson, L. Hogg, J. Heappey, and T. Sowmau; captain, secretary and treasurer, Mr L, Pleasants. It was resolved to enter a team for the Guthrie Shield, and to commence play with a match on the 2Cth inst. The membership fee was fixed at ss, Our head teacher, Mr Robson, is organising a concert in aid of the school ground beautifying and school prize funds, anti as ho has secured » gcnero-as .services of the ever i •, cm Jar PcdldiHg Gi-- o Club success ‘ • ■*’. -;t reward his pra : - worthy efforts I: . provide us wh‘. -m attractive ’: ; erfcai»meTJt, c,ur •■hildrcn with f h , ks, and our sclv:- -.•ardsus with \ r-.ibs on id fiewros. The Court having S'Scssed damages done to the MaoLemum Eros. 5 sheep should not fail to impress owners of dogs with the havoc tlmso animals work when left at lidorty to kill and worry the woolies at their own sweet will, and I hope for the peace and profit of all concerned that the publicity given to this one out of many similar cases that; have lately occurred in, this district, will convince the owners of 'togs of the necessity of carefully control Lug doggie’s home and distant doings. A beautiful day and a friendly lift enabled me to enjoy a visit of inspection to a portable electric sheep-shearing plant owned ami j operated by the "Messrs Orr .Bros., of Halcombe. I found the somewhat puzzling outfit working smoothly and silently, barring rise irregular coughing of the unattended oil engine, which is fixed upon a onehorse runabout trolley. This engine drives a dynamo attached to the same frame. The dynamo genera res the “juice” which is conducted by wires through gimblet holes, knot holes, or a convenient window to | any part of a three or twenty-five shear shed. AH that the wool | shearer has to do before starting 1 work is to take his length of wire | to his “stand,” hang up the small j metal ball that contains his electric j motor, screw his wire Into it. catch his sheep, turn on the “fluid”, which rapdily revolves the spring core contained in the flexible tube attached to the motor case, connect his Woolsley cutter to the core and “wire in.” “Scissors how they cut!” From tail to head with a long arm swing those clipping clippers travel, leaving no vestige of long cut ridges, bridges, or blood rivulets, to he cursed by the “boss” and dammed with tar. A rapid, profitable, pretty and humane process it is no doubt.

When in Australia. I saw (and felt) men pinching the wool from hundreds of electrocuted sheep. I did not dream of the day when the mysterious [stuff that tilled those animals would he harnessed up and used to quickly relieve their fat successors of their "heavy all wool sweaters.” The ,Orr Bros, reckon that 150 big sheep each man per day of eight hours is good enough going, but if it is found desirable (when the shades of evening obscure the sheep) to continue till they are “cut out” then the electric lights are switched on, and on the cutters go till the cows come home or the last sheep goes out stripped and feeling funny without its ‘‘golden fleece.” Then it is coil up wires, unhook motors, hitch up the horse, and away with the compact combination to the next shearing shed. It may interest practical men to know that the 5 h.p. Warwick oil engine generates ample electricity to drive 25 Wolseley cutters anywhere in a shaftless shed. I found the Orr Bros, intelligent showmen as well as exnert workmen, and thus it was that I left them with odd corners of my knowledge box packed full with things that are always interesting and which “some day” may prove useful to their gratified visitor. The echoes that have reached your Halcombe correspondent of the kindly sympathy you recently expressed with the condition of his scribbling hand leads him to believe that it will {.interest some more of your many readers to learn that though he is professionally advised to have the offending finger amputated he still has sufficient faith in the fairy forces to retain the ancient digit and extend the time Nature once required to repair such damage to his anatomy. No doubt our American cousins are artist advertisers. Experience has taught them that if they have a “good line” they will not hang themselves by letting the world know it. The way they do this is, indeed, shocking to the business nerves of the conservative oldtimers. Here are a few extracts from the latest to hand. A splendid photo shows a world-known literary ’ genius and his son; the latter is fooling with a tyro of the family automobile. “Say kid, keep away from that tyre; what fell do yon know about music?” “Why, Dad. I’m sealing up a nasty cut with this —vulcauiser—all you have to do is—etc. Haven’t yon noticed that lately we haven’t been laid up on the road witli any of those profanitjprodneers—blow outs? etc. Hero is an “automatic cashier.” You touch the keys of the coin containers and “presto” you have the desired amount delivered in the required denomination, “Its a new tiling, but now things are not of necessity valuable. We know that the electric light was new yesterday so were gasoline and concrete. Every innovation has to fight for its life.

We take all risks, you get the benefits, sign the coupon below while the mood is on, and add years to your life by cutting out a million waste motions and needless thoughts. Does this look to you like a fake? Then sunshine is a fraud and rain a humbug, friend ship a sham, and hate a virtue. Sign the coupon sonny, and you are up against it for just four dollars. Be a good sport. ” T. P. Barnum boasted that he was “the prince of advertisers,” but ins most striking dollar dumpers were feeble flickings compared with this from a professional ad-mau’s ad. “Master Magician of the mails phraseological prestidigitator!” Whatever that means Davidson is! He surely weaves words and stitches sentences on the bias, that bristle with business —bring ability. A live language has no grammar; dead ones have. Well Dave’s daring departure from dried and cut dictionary dictum drives the dingbats from a duffer’s dynamo and freshen

the mental atmosphere like the air after a sweet summer rain. Dave twirls out the trade teasing talk that makes busy men sit up and sign order blanks and write cheques. His winsome Wehsterian will woo the wherewith your way. No man can read his stuff and thrust it into the wicker. He side steps all the dear old stiff-backed speech styles and gives yon glowing grammar that gurgles with ginger—get up—gumption and tlio glorious gift of gold-gathering. Being America’s foremost wordologist he, of course, charges a hit high, but it’s a bumbum business man who’ll not listen and loosen for letters that’ll make others do it. Agreed? Then there’s money in this mug’s maw for yon mister! Get busy and give him your facts. Watch him grind out a green-back-getter ! Gospel. ’ ’