FROM THE WATCH TOWER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 810, 2 November 1929, Page 10

FROM THE WATCH TOWER

A PROPHECY The bitter cup is full. They’ve got synthetic wool, And there’ll be some bitter feeling in the pens. Can the time be coming now when we’ll get synthetic cow And breakfast eggs laid by synthetic hens? Will we eat synthetic fruit in a neAv synthetic suit After dishes served by Robots for a meal? Will we have to find our cheer in synthetic bottled beer, And will it tend to have the same appeal ?

Will we have synthetic tea when our friends we go to see, With a hearty slice of nice synthetic cake? Will the smoker fill his pipe with some new synthetic tripe, Till he cannot tell tobacco from the fake ? Will the baldhoads take the air sproutint; new synthetic hair, And drink their luck in new synthetic wine? For the signs are now prophetic—everything will be synthetic. In the happy days of nineteen forty nine. DICK WHITTINGTON. GOING OF POP Even, the admirable organisation of sueli well-run institutions as the Auckland. Power Board breaks down at times. The younger generation deplores the carelessness which allowed the Karangahape Ro r ad explosion to take place on November 1 instead of November 5. Still, the optimist insists that the Power Board has not necessarily exploited all its resources. Every ready to oblige, it may have something even bigger and better in store for next Tuesday. FREE DRINKS Having failed to procure its objective by the usual means of intercession with Cabinet Ministers, the Women's Christian Temperance XJnion is now carrying its fight against the Otahuhu brewery to the final Court of Appeal. Prayers are to be conducted alongside the brewery next Tuesday. What form the divine aid solicited is expected to take is not stated, but no doubt the pi'oprietors of the establishment will see that their fire alarms and hoses are in good order. Not every brewery has the exceptional privilege of being the object of such devotion, and perhaps the Otahuhu institution will be prepared to celebrate the occasion nicely by providing that refreshments next Tuesday shall be “on the house.” SUNBURNT BABIES Diapered babies, one notes, are to skip nimbly round the frieze of the Civic Theatre. These are no undernourished infants, but strapping young people four or five feet high and cast in concrete. What is more, they affect the sun-tan hue. The Civic is a nice example of what may be achieved by external colouring. Architects can no longer plan in dismal disregard for colour. They have to be acquainted with modes of the moment, to know whether a hint of pink, orange, chocolate or vermilion will improve the outward showing of the latest fantasy in steel and concrete. Maybe the time will come when industrious plasterers, bending over their troughs and mortar boards, will toss in a dash of cochineal after the best domestic manner. FASHIONS IN FUNNELS The majestic spectacle of the Rangitiki lying at Prince’s Wharf with her sturdy yellow funnels half buried in masses of glistening white superstructure, impels reflection upon the changing fashions which affect ships’ funnels as well as lesser things. Hard by the Rangitiki lies the freighter Wingatui. Her funnel is just a ciga-rette-like tube, one of the kind that caused old-time men-o’-war with four or five funnels to be likened to packets of woodbines. Funnels can alter a ship’s character amazingly. Some of the older Shaw Savin steamers have a grace of their own, even with funnels reaching almost to the mastheads, but today the ocean grevhound must carry squat and sturdy' stacks which convey an impression of rugged power. Even the venerated Aorangi is now a little behind the mode. SAILORS RELAX The mystery of the German cruiser Emden's call at an outlying island in the Fijis lias been dissipated by Captain von Arnauld’s explanation that he merely went there for fishing and bathing, and then ouly with the authority of the Governor of Fiji. The only mystery that now remains is why the Emden did not answer the courtesy salutes of the passing steamer, and why the Governor did not quell the curiosity at the start bv stating that the Emden had authority to pause at the island. Seemingly that immensely powerful wireless room of the Emden’s, which a few Aucklanders had the privilege of inspecting while she was here, was for once in a while unattended. No one of course, will grudge the crew their bathing, or the captain his deep-sea fishing. In view of his past acquaintance with a more exhilarating form of that pastime, Captain von Arnauld must have enjoyed his little session at Wailangalila.