Kelvin High School - Kelvin Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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the hotel, the young man was intro¬ duced to him as “Mr. Smith.” Abe had a strange feeling that he had seen his face somewhere before. He concluded that the young man had paid an earlier visit to the town. A game was soon started at the table that stood in the centre of the lobby. The inlaid checker board on its top was a familiar sight to Abe. He had won perhaps a hundred games on it. As he waited for his opponent to make a move, he tried to remember how many games he had lost at the table. He was unable to recall a single one. For that matter, he hadn’t lost many games on any checker board. Near the end of the first game, when the position was still fairly even, Abe glanced up from the board. He was astonished to see what a number of men had gathered about the table to watch the game. He had never seen such interest in a game of checkers. When he looked back at the board the young man made his move. The older player, after a short appraisal of the situation, did likewise. He noticed his opponent flinch slightly. After a few more moves, “Mr. Smith” raised his head and looked queerly at Abe. “I guess I’ll have to give up. It’s your game.” It was, in fact, a win for Abe. He took his victory casually enough, but was puzzled at the strange expressions on the faces of the watching men. He felt rather embarrassed by the queer manner in which they stared at him. They appeared also, to be whispering among themselves. Abe heard Dr. Johnson say something about a big frog from a big pond being better than one from a little pond. A second game was started. This time, the young man played more slow¬ ly. Nevertheless, the game was shorter than the first, Abe winning again. The young man wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, got up, and said something to Mr. Brown. To Abe, it sounded something like “The joke’s on me!” The actions of the men about him were certainly unusual, thought he. The third game was the longest. “Mr. Smith” appeared to give of his best. But towards midnight, Abe gained two pieces and, soon after, won the game. After saying good night, the younger player left the lobby with a puzzled expression on his face. “You might as well tell him now, Bill. Be a good sport,” said Dr. John¬ son to the hotelowner. Mr. Brown’s face became rather red when he heard several laughs. “Well, Abe,” began Mr. Brown, “I’ll confess. We planned to have a little joke on you tonight, but it hasn’t worked out so well. Do you know whom you were playing checkers with just then?” “Why, Mr. Smith, of course—at least, that’s the name you gave me when you introduced him.” “That was just part of the joke. As a matter of fact, that was James Mason, the national checker champion!” “James Mason? Well, I’ll be—and I beat him! It can’t be him!” “It is, nevertheless. We thought, naturally, that he would beat you. But apparently you’re even a better player than he is.” “But that’s foolish, Bill. I can’t be.” But the general opinion was that Abe was very likely the best player in the world. The village grocer left the hotel in a slightly dazed condition. It was thus that the national checker champion was beaten by old Abe Hen¬ nessey, who hadn’t played a single game outside of his own county. But that is not the end of the story, though the reader might prefer it to be. In the two following days, ten games were played at Abe’s home between the two. One game was drawn. All the rest were won by Mr. Mason! No good explanation has yet been offered to account for Abe’s astonish¬ ing success in those first three games. Mr. Mason says he was really trying to win. Moreover, he says he never felt

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hKs hired a man but he was a careless, lazy fellow. He only did half the work Phil could do and so Pa was still forced to work all day. Finally he became desperate. He was paying this man wages and yet working himself. The next day he wrote a let¬ ter to Phil and told him that if he came back he would pay him as much as he was paying his hired man. He also en¬ closed enough money for train fare. So Phil returned home. Pa met him at the station with the car. He was friendly and agreeable and Phil was quite surprised. At supper that night, Pa said, “I was speakin’ to Bill North when I was in town this morning. He was askin’ me if you boys was going to the dance to¬ night. I told him I kinda thought you was.” SECOND PRIZE—THE BIG FROGS By Clarence Blundell, Room 26 Abe Hennessey had been village checker champion for as long as most of the old-timers could remember. While still a young man establishing himself as a grocer, he had shown his supremacy over the other players of Linwood Crossings. As the years passed, his continuous string of victories was seldom broken. Each loss of his was followed by a challenge to a match, which Abe always won. Now, as the fat, good-natured grocer, he was still turning back all comers in his checker encounters. Though they still played him often, the other checker players of the town had despaired of ever beat¬ ing him more than once in twenty games. And so it was that when a certain young man visited Linwood Crossings, the poorer checker players decided to take full advantage of his presence there. The young man had arrived on a very hot day and registered at the local hotel. The hotel-owner, Mr. Brown, himself a very poor checkerist, had, of- course, seen his name. It was he who instigated the plot to take revenge on old Abe for his long reign of terror as checker king of the town. He dis¬ covered that the young man was plan¬ ning to do a week’s fishing and rambling about in the pretty lake country sur¬ rounding the village. That should be plenty of time for Mr. Brown to work out his plan. The day after the visitor’s arrival, Mr. Brown asked him if he would take the leading role in the conspiracy he planned to stage. The young fellow, who appeared to be of a fun-loving disposition, agreed to do it. The next day, Mr. Brown visited the grocery store. After buying a package of tobacco, he opened the conversation. “Been playing any checkers lately, Abe?” asked Mr. Brown, filling his pipe rather slowly. “Not for a week or so, Bill. Why?” “Well, I thought you might like to have a game or two with a young fel¬ low staying at the hotel. He’s finding it sort of hard to put in the evenings.” “I’d be glad to. Is he a good player?” Mr. Brown struck a match and lighted his pipe before answering. “I don’t think he has been playing very long, seeing he’s so young. If you come over this evening, you can use the checker table in the lobby.” “All right. I’ll be over.” Mr. Brown wore a smile of satisfac¬ tion as he left the store. His plans couldn’t be working more smoothly. Next, Mr. Brown made a tour of the town, visiting most of his checker-play¬ ing friends. He received pats on the back, and gleeful laughter followed in his wake. Other people who saw him concluded that he must be telling a very good, new joke. But why he should go to the trouble of telling it to a score of different citizens of the town was beyond them. That evening, when Abe arrived at 20

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hKs- in better health than during his visit to Linwood Crossings. Was it confi¬ dence alone which enabled Abe to play so well before he discovered the true identity of “Mr. Smith”? We must re¬ member that a national champion .would also have a great deal of con¬ fidence. Today James Mason is a retired world ' s checker champion. Abe Hen¬ nessey, also retired, and whose beard is long and white, is still checker cham¬ pion of Linwood Crossings. The end. (The plot of the story is based on an actual incident which happened during a tour of the United States by a promi¬ nent checker expert.) THIRD PRIZE—THE PLAY’S THE THING By Clare Robinson, Room 26 Larkstown was a very small town, unknown to many in a large city like Winnipeg. Some people will know it by its Dramatic Society, which once visited this city to put on a play. This Dra¬ matic Society was really a “School Drama Club,” as all the performers were chosen from the Larkstown High School. The worthy president, producer, organizer, play writer, and treasurer of the Society was Mr. Kerton, the Latin teacher of the school. Mr. Kerton con¬ sidered himself, and justly so, the pin¬ nacle around which the Society re¬ volved. He was a cantankerous fellow in school hours but when he was pro¬ ducing one of his plays, he was at his worst. He was a positively terrible. He stormed and raved at the players as one possessed, while they, knowing after his mood had passed he would forget what had happened and be quiet for a time, took it all with a grain of salt. About three times a year he produced a play and before producing it he col¬ lected subscriptions from the villagers. Here he displayed a fine knowledge of human nature. Ambitious mothers sometimes hopefully tried to top one another in their subscriptions, so their fair children would be allotted a role in the season’s big event—The Play. However, it was widely known that Mr. Kerton chose only the best speakers and usually a person who was popular with the other students. It was really an honor to be in his play as it meant you were above the usual to attract that worthy man’s attention. Soon Mr. Kerton would choose his cast and OH! the exultation that would enter some hearts, but such disappoint¬ ment would come to others. Terry Cave for instance. He was a great favorite of Mr. Kerton’s in school hours as he was especially bright in Latin, but out¬ side of school he was a hopeless dunce. He had nice clothes, but they were so crumpled and muddled, and he just slumped in them. He wouldn’t look at a girl—oh my no! He never went to parties or mixed with other young folks. But he did know Latin, and he did think he would get a part in the play as Mr. Kerton liked him. Many of the boys and girls laughed at him but a few thought if he ever woke up and got wise to him¬ self he wouldn’t be such a bad chap. Mr. Kerton collected the subscriptions from the village folks and after long deliberation he wrote the names of the chosen on the notice board. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t! Terry Cave was to be lead. It was unthinkable! Mr. Kerton couldn’t do that, it would ruin the play. Imagine Terry Cave hero of anything except Latin period. It was true though and opposite him was to be Lucy Taines, who was considered practically the best-looking girl in the school. Many manly hearts had secretly longed to play hero to this dashing dam¬ sel, but here was Terry Cave opposite her. It was unbearable. Just a rough note had been posted naming Terry Cave—Masculine Lead, Lucy Taines—Feminine Lead, Rest of Cast—and then the others were named. No one knew what he was to play. Practising would start the next day and 22