FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 793, 14 October 1929, Page 8

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

By “THE LOOK-OUT WAN," THE MELBOURNE WAY In a wrestling match in Melbourne, a wrestler named Zikmund hurled the referee from the ring. These Melbourne wrestlers seem to be A most ungracious band. Their manners to the referee One cannot understand. To heave the umpire from the mat Is not the sporting: thing:. You wouldn’t do a thing like that Would you, Xaranjan Singh? WILLIE RESPONDS The children's race at a Chinese picnic yesterday was won by Willie Doo. Willie Doo? Yes, and if in future YYillie’s name is coupled with any such involuntary interrogation, his proud parents may be expected to answer that Willie certainly did. SUMMER. MALIC The mysterious power of Summer Time is noted by a morning contemporary: “Leaving Wellington yesterday afternoon, the Main Trunk express arrived in Auckland yesterday morning.” This just shows what two such accomplished gentlemen as Mr. Sidey and Mr. Sterling can achieve between them. THINGS YOU SEE AT SEATTLE We New Zealanders are not a particularly sensitive people. At least, we profess not to be; but pei-haps we have an exalted idea of our importance in the universal scheme. Certainly it galls to be confused with some place in Central Australia or to learn that inhabitants of older centres of culture express polite surprise at meeting a New Zealander who is not black. Perhaps we expect too much of the world. Some day it will learn its own geography. In the meantime, consider a picture caption from the Seattle (U.S.A.) “Times” of September 1. It reads:—“First lady of New Zealand, Lady Alice. This charming woman, wife of the Governor-General of the Australian Commonwealth, is beloved by thousands.” If every picture tells a story, this one told a pai--ticularly big one, for the picture reproduced was not. remotely like Lady Alice Fergusson. Possibly the picture editor had that day been, taking liberties with the eighteenth amendment. But where is Seattle, anyway? * * * SUBURBAN JOYS Of pleasant corners of the city, Garden Road, Remuera, is to be commended as the sequestered setting of pretty homes. Looking out from those eastern slopes of Remuera one perceives how great a disaster would be the conversion of Hobson Bay into an industrial area blotting out the blue vista of harbour and channel with a drab curtain of factory smoke and murk. There are handsome homes and trim gardens on those sunny .slopes, but the beauty of this part of Auckland is not merely an artificial splendour. From the odd little angle that Is Garden Road the view embraces a loveliness that has about it the riotous charm of vigorous growth in shrubbery and coppice. Happy folk who dwell in that little colony in Garden Road! Here Mr. C. R. Ford perhaps dreams of new and majestic contributions to city architecture, while may be Mr. H. R. Jenkins, released for a day or two from political cares, polishes his red RollsRoyce with a fragmept of chamois leather and soliloquises on the blessings of treedom. OFFICIAL OCCASIONS

If the Transport Bill passes into law there will be statutory provision for motorists to have 24 hours’ grace in which to produce their driving licences. It is interesting to speculate on how long this will affect the popular official sport of devoting Sunday to halting motorists ‘ and demanding their tickets. Of course in Auckland the principles of charity have been extended in the past, and if motorists arrived at the Town Hall with their licences next morning they went away with the forgiveness and. blessing of the Traffic Department. But the new provision will mean that nearly all motorists will leave their tickets at home. The only ones to carry them about will be the ingenuous folk, mostly very young, who innocently regard a driving licence as evidence of superior mentality and physique. The rest of the great motoring public will take advantage of the 24 hours’ dispensation, and will hence arrive ere masse at the traffic office next morning, disorganising the work of the department and perhaps calling for extra staff. This may blunt the edge of enthusiasm. Still, the sport of halting motorists on the road will always exercise its appeal. Isn’t there the classic instance of the driver who, when stopped by an inspector and asked, “Where’s your licence?” demanded in return “Where’s yours?” The motorist’s wife endeavoured to smooth things over. “Don't take any notice of him, inspector,” she said. “He’s drunk.”