From THE Tower

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 71, Issue 260, 2 November 1928, Page 6

From THE Tower

(By “

■‘SENTUTM.")

“If six monkeys were set before six typewriters it would be a long time before they produced by mere chance all the written books in the British Afuseum, but it would not be an infinitely long time.”—Pleasant contribution to “the statistical theory of probability’’ extracted from an address to the British Association. This led Lucio, in the Manchester Guardian, to return thanks, thus:— Life is brief, but art is longer. So the sages sa\) in sooth— Nothing could be worse or wronger Than to doubt this ancient truth. Endless volumes, larger, fatter. Prove mans intellectual climb, Put in essence it’s a mailer Just of having lots of time. Cive me half a dozen monl(cV3 t Set them io the lettered £eps. And instruct these Simian flunlfevt Just to hit them as they please; Lo! the anthropoid plebeians. Toiling at their careless plan, Would in course of countless aconf Duplicate the lore of man. Thank you, thank V ou f mcn °f science? 7 hanlf you, thank you, British Ass! I for long have placed reliance On the litbils that tjou pass. And this session’s nicest chunk is Just to sit and think °f those Six imperishable monkeys Typing in eternal rows! Goodbye to dreams of even “pucer’* puce suits, pinker sox, and “goldcr” ties. The National Federation of Merchant Tailors predicts: “Quieter colours and no revolutionary changes of fashion in men’s clothes.” Sounds just like a weather forecast through a foghorn. But since men’s fashions (including those atrocious “bags”) arc dictated from England, as women’s are from Paris, men will continue to walk the Avenue sober in garb, if not in demeanour. It is sad news for tho young fashionables who love gay colours, and who had begun to see in the increasing brightness of men’s apparel hopes for a blissful existence of pink hats and blue knee-breeches, with (possibly) gold or scarlet cloaks with which to do the Sir Walter Raleigh act. for some uncrowned Elizabeth. A glance at the outfitters’ windows, however, reveals that more than a trace of brightness has been preserved in the matter of pyjamas, and the gay lads who like glad rags can admire themselves to the full in the privacy of their bed or bathrooms, with mirrors adjusted for the purpose. It is to be hoped it doesn’t keep them too long out of bed—or out of the bath. # * * #

“Break”: The English always find something to weep about when it comes to sport. The cricket team they selected to visit Australia was “unbeatable.” Then comes news from. Australia of some striking batting performances—and the newspapers 1 1 - gan dolefully to ask what chance their bowlers had of getting such men out. For variety, other papers wanted to know what chance the English batsmen had of scoring against the Australian bowling. Now they arc down iu tho dumps again, the wonder is that “The Gloomy Doan” has not something to say about it. The English XI. failed to “make a job” of the ►South Australians. As a matter of fact, two of the South Australians, Richardson and Pritchard, made a “job” of the English bowling, establishing a record second wicket

partnership of 192 in matches between England and South Australia, .ludging by the comments of the English newspapers, England is in sackcloth and ashes; at all events tho critics are trying to outvie each other in pessimism. And for slobbering pessimism and poor sportsmanship commend me to the English cricket critic. Out this way we say “Let the best team win!” If England is victorious, the Australian critics will not waste time weeping inky tears and making excuses. They will praise the winners, console with the losers—and coldly ask the cricketing authorities what they are going to do about it.

A special historical interest attaches to the release in Battersea Park, London, of a large number of the caterpillars of a Chinese silk moth. James I. had bright ideas in this direction. He could see no reason why silk worms could not be reared in England, when success attended their breeding in France, so ignoring the difference of climate, he issued a general recommendation that everyone should plant mulberry trees to serve as food for the arrivals, and himself set the example by walling off four acres of ground near St. James’ Palace. “The silkworms did not flourish, but the mulberries did,” relates an English writer, “and a few decades later we find the Mulberry Gardens had become one of London’s aristocratic pleasure resorts. The interesting feature of this royal experimental silk farm is that after a few more changes it was bought with tho house to which the Duke of Buckingham gave his name, and is now actually part of the grounds of Buckingham Palace. Most of the old mulberry trees still surviving in London—that in Finsbury Circus, for instance —are relics of King James’ ‘great idea.’ ” This reminds us that when we were very young, almost every boy kept silkworms in the summer—up North, anyhow. In view of the fact that real silk stockings are now worth their weight in gold, or more, it might pay to import silkworms. They should be even more profitable than Angora rabbits—and you don’t have to go to the trouble of shearing them.