Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada)

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As the sun rose Jerry's spirits rose too, and suddenly with an un- controllable yelp of delight he jumped in the air, chased his tail, and manifested other puppyish traits. Tiring of this after some fifteen minutes he chased a mangy cat who stood for his right so vigorously that Jerry retreated, considering discretion the better part of valour! This only slightly dampened his ardour. His bub- bling spirits could not be contained, with the result that he started off at a breakneck speed. In the course of his wild career he became entangled in an old woman's skirts, knocked over a tomato bas- ket, and did other damage also. Triumphantly he emerged with a tomato draped artistically over one eye. He slowed up to remove this impediment but upon glancing over his shoulder he resumed his hurried way - speedily. It apparently frightened him for he ran for eight blocks hitting the high spots only. Other smaller adventures follow- ed. For instance his too inquisitive nose became caught in the but- cher's door. He was extracted from here, yelping loudly, by the irate butcher, who administered a THE OAKWOOD ORACLE kick so strongly that Jerry turned several somersaults, landing on his tail on an ice wagon. Jerry squeal- ed. It was too painful, and for a moment Jerry's delight in life seemed to have departed, but rub- bing his nose and looking sorrow- fully at his sore tail, he escaped from the wagon and went in search of lunch. A kind-hearted cook in a cheap restaurant provided this meal. As the sun waxed hotter and hot- ter, Jerry waxed limper and limper. Finally he jumped into a horse trough, giving himself and every- one else a refreshing UD shower bath. Jerry prowled around for some time, then fell asleep in the cool shade of a stable. Jerry rose from this nap and went in search of a meal. This evening's repast was gleaned from the same source as his morning one. All evening Jerry searched for a night's resting place, inci- dentally meeting with a few more adventures. The rising moon found him comfortably established in an old shed, at peace with the world and all mankind, as is the way with all good puppies. E. M. C., SB. 7a. m. There's something on my mind today, I can't think what it is. This is the eighteenth, isn't it? Oh gee! Exam in Phys! I worked last night till after twelve, And mother scolded sore. But now the day is here at last I wish I'd studied more. Now, memory's a curious thing, And plays me false so oft, I can't retain the thoughts I should, But other things are soft. My good right ear lets in the things The teachers tell to me- My traitor left ear lets them out- Here's where I'll fail-you'll see! ADELAIDE E. R. STERNBERG, 3A. Page Tlliillfjj-T11 we

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THE OAKWOOD ORACLE ikehurti QD Qhsurhum Returning one evening from our bi-monthly meeting of the Society for the Amelioration of Human Misery, after listening to a speak- er whose eloquence had moved me to the depths of my being, I was startled to hear emanating from an alley-way, near which I had to pass, a yell. a scream, of more than human agony. Attuned to the spirit of the noble lecturer I had just heard, and eager to follow his precepts actively. I hurried in the direction of the arresting sound. And what a sight niet my eyes! Who would have thought that in this civilized age, in a city govern- ed by the wisest and most thought- ful men, and protected by the ever- deed dare be perpetrated on so helpless and so weak a creature. I approached, nerved to help, even if the cost should be to me most heavy. But, little wonder, suspi- cion of a stranger caused the poor, helpless victim to retreat as I ad- vanced. What to do I knew not, for there was no time to be lost, and the wretched perpetrators of the crime had vanished, though, I doubt not, they linger.ed near to see what I should do. But I grew des- perate watching the struggles of the poor victim, and, straining every nerve, I sprang towards him, and, taking a pen-knife from my pocket, I cut the string that bound the kettle to the poor dog's tail. watchful police, such a dastardly -Adelaide C. R. Sternberg, IIIA jmher Qgain Mary had a little lamb, She took it to the game: Hut when she got it home again The lamb was not the same. His fleece was black, his legs were lame, His eyes were black and blue, He didn't look like lamb at all, He looked like I1'ish stew. His voice that used to be so meek, With sweetness most divine, Was hoarse and raucous as a crow's- And so, indeed, was mine. His pretty tail was torn in two, Ile, that had been so tame, Was wild, was mad-you see, he'd caught I The spirit of the game. His conversation, too, had changed, Ile used to murmur Ha-a-a. lint since she took him to the game, Ile kicks, and mutters Blah-h-li. ADICLAIDIC R. STICRNIIICRG, 3A. ljllffl' 7'll'l'llfAlj-Ffllll'