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Page 26 text:
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Yes. Oh, Dorothy, did you learn Prussia, ' cause I didn ' t. I thought she said Russia. ' No, Prussia. What if she gives us an essay? ' ' Well, I ' m lost. Say, if she did, would you begin on Frederick and then say something about the Corn Laws? Yes, something like that. But I really don ' t think we will have one; do you, Margie? What? Oh. a test. Well. I wouldn ' t be too sure. Shall I go and ask h er? No, you had better not; she might remember then. Yes, she might. Let me see. There ' s one date I never can remember — the year Peter came to the throne. Was it 1715, 1725 or 1735. I know it ends in a five. I think (Girl at the door.) Mrs. X, girls. (Hushed exclamations from room.) Mrs. X enters, with our essay books to be distributed and is met with a sign of relief, as we all know our numerous mistakes will take up the morning ' s lesson. Katharine Stevenson, Form Matric I. Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction IT was New Year ' s Eve and my Club, the Criterion, was having its monthly meeting. This, however, was a special occasion. At the end of each year one of the members told of some adventure he had had during his life. The story had to be true, with no exaggerations, which was very hard on the narrator. This year it was my turn and I was feeling slightly nervous, for if I failed to interest the members I was to have no supper. It happened during the War, I began. My battalion (I was a Captain at the time) was stationed at a small village in France called Terin. It was near the line, so when we arrived we had expected some lively skirmishes. For five days we had waited but not a solitary shell had disturbed the peace. The monotony was wearing on everyone ' s nerves. On the fifth night, exasperated by the inactivity, I determined to take a walk, although I knew it was risky, and escape from the eternal quarrelling of my men. I cut across the fields in the direction, as far I know, parallel to the enemy trenches. I walked for about a mile and a half, then, feeling a little tired, I sat down beneath a tree to rest. It was a lovely night. The stars and moon illuminated the fields, whose daytime bareness was softened until they appeared almost beautiful. After admiring the scenery for some time, I fell asleep; but it could not have been long before I was awakened by someone who was roughly shaking my arm. I grunted in protest but the shaking continued and a voice said softly, ' Ah, C3, so you got the message? ' There must be , ' I said, still dazed. ' S-sh, don ' t talk; you can ' t tell who may be about. Just follow me, ' the voice replied. My first impulse was to tell him he had made a mistake but then, as this promised a break in the tedious routine of the last few days, I decided I would see what it was all about. I followed my guide across the fields, until we came to an old crater. He clambered down into i t and with some misgivings, I confess, I did the same. At the bottom I looked around but there was no sign of the guide. Then he appeared at the other end, beckoning to me. I went over and saw how he had vanished. A passage had been made through the earth, large enough for a man to squeeze through. I went in after him. It was very uncomfortable, but soon we came to a widening of the passage, as broad as a small room, I got to my feet and stared with astonishment at what I saw. The place was lighted willi candles and seated around a table in the centre were six men. The one at the hi ad, who seemed to be (he chief, rose at my entrance and said, ' So you are C3; you have done splendid work. ' [ 24 ]
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Page 25 text:
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Every night I was smoked in this way. My whole appearance changed from yellow to black, and I began to grow aged. A year passed, and I was still smoked every night. My master, John Macdonald, no longer went to the law office, but to a huge building where there were many men. Of course, I could not see them for I was in my master ' s pocket. He stood up and talked in a loud, resonant voice, and I felt afraid. For a long time he spoke, and everybody was still. He once said, Really, George Brown, have you forgotten your very Liberal policy? He said it in such a tone that everybody laughed. He made more and more speeches every year, and became more and more important. More pipes came to live with him, but he still patronized me. His hair became grey but the ardent spirit remained, and helped him to keep up his work. One day the streets were decorated with flags and bunting, and John Macdonald made a speech. Women wept and men pondered. His speech was rousing; and dead silence reigned supreme. He thanked them for their help. Confederation had been accomplished, and owing to the devotion of Sir John Macdonald it had been completed with success. That night he puffed me for a long time, and then he clenched his hands and said, with a voice trembling with emotion, I have achieved my ambition; I am great. On his death-bed, I lay on the table by his bed-side. He took me in his trembling hands and broke me in half. He said, You have been as good a partner to me as George Brown has been a critical opponent. He chuckled, and I died happily. Sir John Macdonald died too, with a nation ' s love. He was one of Canada ' s greatest fathers, and his name will live as long as Canada does. Ruth Mallory, Form IVa. Abner Ben Adam (With Apologies to Leigh Hunt) Abner Ben Adam (may all mice decrease!) Came home one night with a feeling of peace, And saw, between the stairs and empty room, By the delightful light of a fitful moon, A cat who came walking on carpet gold; Adventure had made Ben Adam bold, And to the Persian in the hall he said, Why walkest thou? The cat he raised his head, And with a purr made all of sweet accord, Answered, For mice, like you, I love, my lord. And have you one? said Abner. Nay, not so, Replied the cat. Abner spoke more slow, But bravely still; and said, Oh save me then, And I will never tell my fellow-men. The cat agreed and left. The next night He came again with foot more light, And laid some mice before him in the hall. And lo! Ben Adam lay amongst them all. Jane Seely, Form IVn. As Others See Us (With apologies to Punch) Do you think we will? Yes, perhaps; on the other hand, we had one last time. But you never know when they will spring them on us. No, that ' s true. What are the dates of Napoleon — 1620? Yes, yes, I think so, but do you know those Acts; she ' s sure to ask us them. Remember when Betty said rice, instead of corn? Oh, do you really think we will have one? I don ' t; I hope if wc do, it won ' t be on foolscap; it scares me so. [23]
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Page 27 text:
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While he said this panic seized me. Though he spoke in English it was with a gutteral accent that was undeniably German. Then everything became clear. It was a nest of German spies who had somehow obtained English uniforms. I was in deadly danger, for I knew if they discovered my identity I should never leave the cave alive, so I resolved to keep up the bluff and pretend to be one of them as long as possible. All this flashed through my mind as the man spoke. In reply to his praise I managed to mutter something. Then to my horror one of them said, ' Let us talk in our own tongue. It is so much easier. ' This was a predicament! I had some recollections of the German lessons of my schooldays, but they were very vague. Certainly I could not speak it well enough to convince these men, so with the courage of despair I said quickly, ' Gentlemen, I heard that the English are sending out a patrol to-ngiht. They might possibly came near and overhear us talking in German and then we would be lost. But if we talk English I, as an English officer, can send them away without creating suspicion. ' To my relief there was a murmur of approval and the chief, addressing me in English, asked me to state our exact position at Terin. This I could, of course, do very well. When I had finished he unfolded a plan for an attack against Terin to take place in two days. To gain their confidence I suggested some improvement. After everything was settled and just before we left I said, Perhaps it would be better if we met again to-morrow night, and I could give you further details as to the position of the English. They agreed and I left them with a ; sigh of relief at my narrow escape. Next evening they entered the cave and also the arms of British soldiers, to their great surprise. That was how one of the most famous bands of German spies was captured. At their court ' martial I found out that they had sent a message to C3, a spy whom they had never seen hut whose help they needed, to meet the guide when I had slept. C3, who had been shot some time before, never received the message. It was by a strange coincidence that I was under that tree at the appointed hour. Peggy Tyndale, Form IVb. The Ski-Train The platform was freezing, The skiers were squeezing Their fingers to keep them warm. A young rascal was teasing His brother for sneering, And the brother was losing his form. Away in the distance The train in this instance Let out a most fearful screech. The skiers ' insistance And hardy resistance Soon lead them a seat to reach. The wars of the tickets Now started in thickets — The train was a miniature war, For they held that their tickets Were bought at the wickets This week, not the week before. As the snow slopes appeared The skis disappeared And flat on the snow rallied forth. The train slightly reared, As it lightly careered, It continued its way up north. Jean Scrimger, Form Upper VI. [ 25 ]
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