Untitled

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 119, 10 August 1927, Page 8

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN” GREAT SNAKE if! A.N.A. must have been in a bitter mood when he sat down to contradict the statement of the Look-out Man that there are no snakes in New Zealand. He says there are plenty of them —in human guise, and he asserts that those who complained of the cost of entertaining our recent Royal visitors would give the davil nausea. People of any talent, he avers, take themselves to other lands, or, if any make money here, they take it to other lands to spend. He concludes a jaundiced tirade against New Zealanders by stating that New Zealand will never have a great future until the Japanese own it. Since all people of any talent leave New Zealand, there are hopes that A.N.A. will shortly purchase a steamer ticket —and that he will disembark on some uninhabited island. There he may find gratification in cursing the whole population, which will consist of himself—and this country will find gratification in being rid of a depressing groucher. Failing to deport himself, he ought to take something for the liver and indulge in more exercise. THE SHIP'S FIREMAN The ship’s fireman is a very free and independent fellow. Throwing coal into furnaces makes him like that. It also gives him a thirst. If a ship is delayed leaving port, it is 10 to 1 that some, or all, of the firemen are busy taking in supplies of beer for the trip. The departure from Sydney of the Manuka was delayed for two hours on Saturday, owing to the absence of two of the stokehold hands. They were found in a nearby hotel, and “induced” to go aboard —doubtless by a polite deputation consisting of the captain and the chief engineer. An officer must be very courteous to a fireman, or he will promptly be told to “stoke your own—fires,” and the ship may be held up for a month while the Firemen’s Union is considering whether tile temerity of a brassbounder in addressing one 'of its members without extreme deference should not be penalised by a general strike. But the fireman is gradually doing himself out of a job. Owners are tired of hunting hotels for their stokehold hands every time a ship Is due to sail, and oil-burning furnaces are replacing the coal-burners whereever possible. THE MOWER-MO A Two recent arrivals employed at Auckland Railway Station, desirous of improving their local knowledge, were asking some questions concerning the moa. The office leg-stretcher got busy describing the antics of some of the moas he had seen. “Bgt I thought they were all extinct?” said one of the new chums. “No; not all,” replied the limb-extender. “Why that one r saw down at Pukekohe last Saturday week ...” A few minutes later, another of the staff (who had been “given the wink”) strolled in after taking the air. “Good Lord, yes!” he said. “There are plenty of moas left. Why, there’s a moa out on the platform now, consigned to Taumarunui.” All excitement, the new chums w-ere led out to see the strange bird. “There is is," said the guide. “Where?” asked the innocents, gazing all around. “Why, there, you blind bats!” replied the guide. And he pointed to a corner in which stood—a lawn-mower!