FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 614, 16 March 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By ‘'THE LOOK-OUT MAN.”

THE CELESTIAL WUV The difficulties of tracing unauthorised Chinese are accentuated by the fact that the man who arrives as Hi Lee may change his name to Hop On. — News Item. When Willie Hi Lee becomes Tommy Hop On, Or otherwise Jimmy Lip Sing , To trace the elusive, inscrutable John Becomes a most difficult thing. If the diligent questioner finally learns That his man is a nurseryman’s navvy, The only reply that the quarry returiys. Is simply: “No savvee.” 'When the greengrocer carries his kit. to the dooyb And stands there impassive and bland. You- may rattle the esculents off by the score But the merchant will still understand. Yet if I. exercised by my launderer’s fee. Say. “John, you are making it willing?" He grins and reiterates : “No savvee , see?” And its ahvays : “Two shilling.” Me SHOVEL. SHIFTING CAMP Tangible evidence of uncompleted enterprises the world over is generally dubbed So-and-So’s “folly,” and it is interesting to speculate as to what contemporary politician will be required by posterity to father the unfinished construction works of the Rotorua-Taupo railway. On the road between Taupo and Napier there is a false road, now overgrown and barely discernible, christened Somebody’s Folly after the contractor who built it and (according to report) went “broke” on it. In Hawke’s Bay at the time of the wool boom a squatter was building an immense three-storied mansion, hut the slump cramped his style before the roof was on, and the building lay unfinished for months. Fortunately the wool market brightened before the “folly” could be permanently attached to it. In the case of the Rotorua-Taupo railway, the men who shifted to the new camps a month or two ago are now being moved to Gisborne. Soon it will be necessary to have a railway to carry them from one fresh job to another. UP IN SMOKE So the old Talisman Hotel at Katikati has been burned, thus going the way of nearly all ancient taverns. The first proprietor was Mr. A. Shepherd, who had amassed good returns from the Talisman mine, and consequently regarded it with sufficient favour to commemorate the name in his hotel. You can’t very well miss the Talisman at ICatikati —or rather you couldn’t before the unfortunate event of Thursday night. It stands on an eminence and looks across the channels and hanks of the Tauranga Harbour to the treacherous Katikati entrance, with Mayor Island and Knrewha in the background. All about is the country that Mr. G. V. Stewart, founder of the settlement, made famous with his slogan, “Tickle the land with a hoe, and it will laugh with a harvest.” They were all Irishmen of Tyrone who came ont, and possibly it was they who gave its name to the adjacent hamlet of Athenree. The fruitful countryside is reputed to grow anything, and if W. B. Yeats were in New Zealand he might substitute for Innisfree; “I will arise and go now, and go to Athenree.” Nine bean rows will I have there, and a hive for the honey-bee.”

the King’s Medal. CINEMA DISDAINED Sir Thomas Beecham (vide cables) affirms that he never goes to the cinema unless dragged there (such a bore!) by his friends. Just so. But a number of movie-goers don’t go to Beeeham’s Grand Opera, either, unless dragged by their friends, and a good many don’t even go then. So it’s not altogether one-sided. * * * THE MASQUERADER While Valerie Smith, alias Captain Barker, is communing with her soul to determine which of the proffered theatrical engagements she will accept, it may please New Zealanders to cast their minds back —as no doubt some have already done—to that archpretender. Amy Bock. Small, trim and plausible, Amy wore the air and habiliments of a man for months, and on April 21, 1909, was married at the Nuggets, Otago, before a large congregation. The “bride,” a Miss Otway, was captivated by her ardent wooer’s masculine charms and some mention the gay deceiver had made of £4,500 expected from his father as a wedding gift. “Percy Carol Redwood,” as Miss Bock called herself, did not enjoy more than three days of wedded bliss, as the police were by this time seeking her on earlier charges of fraud. She served two years’ imprisonment, and though 45 years old at the time, is reported to have married a Taranaki farmer after her release. Unlike “Captain Barker,” she was not besieged with offers from theatrical producers. Those were days when talent, not j notoriety, was the key to the esteem o£ impresarios.