Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

Page 20 text:

18 The Branksome Slogan patois. For the most part French-Canadians speak excellent French, and in genera l they speak their language better than we speak ours. Even if this were false, the ultimate goal is not for everyone to be able to speak perfect Parisian French, but for the citizens of a bilingual country to be able to converse fairly fluently in either of the languages of their country. The English-speaking Canadian cuts a sorry figure beside his French-speaking countryman in the matter of linguistic accomplish- ments. Most French-Canadians can speak English, while probably not m.oire than ten in a hundred English-Canadians in Quebec have conver- sational knowledge of French, and in the other English-speaking prov- mces the number with this accomplishment is negligible. It has been said that if today we had in Ontario as many English-Canadians who spoke French as there are French-Canadians who speak English, our racial troubles would vanish into thin air. It is a good thing for us to live in a country where it is essential to have a knowledge of two languages. We are, therefore, the guardians of the most wonderful intellectual, literary, and artistic treasures of white civilization, and therefore we can draw indefinitely from these spiritual and cultural resources of France and England. It is not possible to make Canada perfectly bilingual. It is often naturally impossible for people to learn any but their own language, but if Canadians were willing to make at least an attempt in the direc- tion of bilingualism the number of Anglo-French friendships would be increased nearly one hundred percent, and Canada ' s most difficult prob- lem would be solved. VIRGINIA TORY. Me and Minerva It sure ain ' t like the good old days! In them days you courted your gal with a bunch, of posies, and helped her up the steps in case she ' d trip over her skirts. ' Course I don ' t remember all that, since I ' m just turned twenty-three, but pop told me, and he oughta know, ' cause he got ma that way. But anyways, what I was goin ' to say was that it ain ' t like that in my generation. F ' r instance, take the way I got my- self nicely hooked up with a cute little red haired number, belonging strictly to the twentieth century. This here ' s how I did it. I got a job at the munitions factory in the spring o ' forty-one. (I ' ve had flat feet ever since ma made me wear Pops old shoes, and none o '

Page 19 text:

Fifth Form

Page 21 text:

The Branksome Slogan 19 the services would have me.) Well, anyways, I walked into the place on my first morning, and the first thing- what I saw when I entered the rivitin ' room was this vision o ' loveliness borin ' into the side of a airyplane like it was cream cheese. I took one look, and I sez to myself, That ain ' t the woman for me. It ' s needle-point and cookin ' pans for the gal I marries — not airyplanes! But then she turned around, and brother! — from that minute on, I wasn ' t no longer a free man. There she stood, no bigger ' n a kitten, with navy blue overhalls hangin ' none too loosely on a figger that woulda made Venus herself writhe with jealousy. Her flashy red hair was all askew, and her green eyes looked at me in sech a way as made the drops trickle off my forhead and the prickles run up and down me back. ' ' Anyways, they set me down to work not six feet from Minerva (that ' s her name, as I found out from the records. Beautiful, what?) but fer the life o ' me, I couldn ' t get up the courage to speak a murmur to her. I never was one to push m.yself forward (I comes from a family which always uses their butter knives), and besides, wimmen-folk always did have a way o ' makin ' me feel kinda hoit around the collar. So, day after day, there we sat, hammerin ' away at our airyplanes an ' not utterin ' a single word. ' Course we loo ' ked at each other kind of friendly- like, and she always blushed just a little when I whistled You ' d Be So Nice To Come Home To. Once in a while when she caught me starin ' at her like ai sick cow, she ' d wink at me and toss her head in a right saucy way, — while I ' d hafta turn me head quick so she wouldn ' t see how red I was gettin ' . But as I say, wasn ' t no rushin ' romance, and although I dreamed about my Minerva every night, I couldn ' t get my backbone up enough to ever say good morning to her when I got to work. Now here ' s where I gets to provin ' my argument that you don ' t win your wimmen these days by flowers and notes o ' poetry. ' Cause, although I sure hates to admit it, I won Minerva in a downright under- nand way, twentieth century fashion. I woke up one morning, and I said to myself, This life o ' misery has got to stop, and if Minerva won ' t take the first step, it ' s gotta be me, and all of a sudden I knew just what to do, even if it wasn ' t very gentleman-like. That day was the weekly inspection day, w hen the guy in the brown uniform always came around and looked at your work to see if you wais a fast worker, and if you did your work good. Now Minerva always had a way of bein ' right proud of her job, and she always had her rivetin ' done up extra specially nice on inspection day. So as soon as I got to work, (me what never done a unhonest thing in my life