FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 714, 13 July 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT MAN.” IS THIS THE ENDf Seventy liorses to be lion’s meat for the zoo arrived from Whakatane last night. Can yon heat itt Here’s the horse Singled, out for lion’s meat. Such a privilege , of course, For the Sunday crowds—a treat Watching Felis Leo eat t Ungulate or quadruped. Once the noblest friend of man, JPity lions cannot shed Their desire for fleshy scran And be vegetarian. Can you beat itT Also ran! Cast ignobly for defeat! “Yes, cut out the sobs. I can,’’ Ts the broken punter’s bleat—- “ Let them all be lion’s meat T. TORERO A. THE GREAT UNPHOTOGRAPHED Convention rarely gets such a serious jolt as it has had this week from a Maori girls’ hockey team which jointly and severally has refused to be photographed on the score of superstition. Press photographers are hard-boiled persons, whose deep experience of humanity informs them that superstition is a state of mind or nerves that is of very little moment in keeping purposeful persons away from the camera’s eye. The press photographer’s greatest difficulty when photographing a celebrity or a train smash is to persuade the inevitable small boy or fatuous looking eye witness to take his head out of the road. Hence the attitude of Maori girls comes as a refreshing change. But they will relax it if they win the tournament, so at this writing all the press photographers have their shirts and any other spare garments on the lasses from the Rangitaiki. HOT MEAT Possibly it was just one of life’s little ironies that, contemporaneously with the return of Mr. W. D. Lysnar, a champion of the eat-more-beef campaign, someone writing authoritatively about chilblains made the damaging pronouncement that sufferers should ease up on meat consumption. If this is taken seriously by the afflicted, Mid-winter meat consumption may show a regular seasonal slackening, but it should come back strongly every Spring. There seems to be a growing belief among those who cultivate external charm that a chop or a sausage now and again helps them to acquire it. This belief is strengthened by the results of a canvas made by a New York reporter among the international entrants for a Manhattan beauty competition. Following the scribe’s inquisition into the dietetics observed by the lovely ladies, his paper came out that evening with the large heading: “Foreign Beauts Crave Hot Meat.” HUNTLY’S DARK HOUR Mention of the Huntly mining disaster recalls what is now almost a forgotten sensation, though it Is only fifteen years old. The explosion occurred in Ralph’s mine, and 43 men were killed, the Auckland district’s first experience of the terrible pathos of a mining tragedy. Most of the victims were buried in the Huntly cemetery, hard by the main road. There is no memorial at the actual pitrhead, for the site is occupied by the new Town Hall, built right over the plugged entrance to £he disused mine. AT THE f IHOW

Once upon a time no show was complete without a Clydesdale 17 hands high in the transport department, but nowadays the deficiency is easily filled by a few eight-cylinder motor-cars and lifelike representations of seven-bearing crankshafts. The only horses at the current Winter Show are the wooden ones on the merry-go-round. No one seems to be kicking much about the change. The truth is, people are a good deal more interested in cars than they ever were about horses, except from a speculative point of view. Although they would blush to confess it, many worthy people have never got over a sneaking suspicion of horses, but no one can justly be suspicious of a large and luxurious-looking motor-car that bares its innards in the most disarming fashion, and offers a rare variety of nick-nacks to tempt the interest of possible buyers. Under the circumstances it’s a. rare tribute to the dogs and the rabbits and the other exhibits that they have been able to stand up to this intense competition. Dogs from puppyhood up still form an indispensable adjunct to any show. It is simply not possible to go the rounds without admiring the majestic Alsatians, the stubby bull-pups, and the wasp-like whippets. How do those whippets keep their waistlines? That is a question that only the whippets themselves, and perhaps their owners, can answer. Personally, we were most occupied in wondering how much start the whippets could give the rest of the field if the dog exhibits and the rabbit exhibits next door were both released at the same time.