Brentwood College School - Brentonian Yearbook (Mill Bay, British Columbia Canada)

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Brentwood College Magazine asms HE SCENE-PAINTER staggered into the gymnasium, one hand clutching a kettle of hot water, and the other balancing three or four telescoped tins filled with paint brushes, and pressing against her sides with both arms a collection of rags and papers. She felt, and probably looked like, a human salvage truck; but, although her appearance didn ' t suggest it, her entry was in the nature of a triumph. For she had arranged the affairs of her home in such a fashion that she had a whole free morning in which to complete the painting of the scenery for the school concert, a feat of which she felt justly proud, involving as it did a great deal of planning and thought. For this was near Christmas-time and it was no easy matter to seize Time by his forelock, so swifty he went hurrying by, so much there was to do . . . The accumu- lation of tins, rags, paint and newspapers in sufficient quantities for her task had also involved hours of toil and trouble, a fact to be appreciated readily perhaps only by salvagers. The Temple scene, which had been sketched in the evening before in a dim light amid a seething crowd of boys engaged in such noisy and divergent occu- pations as the hammering in and the wrenching out of nails, the playing of badminton, the putting together and tearing apart of scenery, and so on, was ready for painting and with hard work and good luck could be almost finished this morning. It was 9:30 and she had three and a half precious hours before her. Visions of temple arches, noble pillars and marble masonry flashed before her inward eye as the creative instinct welled up within her, and her spirits rose happily at the thought of all she would do. But the sight that met her eyes as she entered the door caused both her spirits and her jaw to fall with a click, though luckily she managed to keep better control of her tins and brushes. Up on the stage the stage manager was conferring with the Headmaster. To the uninitiated there would be nothing in this sight to cause such distressing symp- toms, for both of these men were, even to their pupils, comparatively harmless looking individuals, as individuals go. But therein lay the trouble — she knew they wouldn ' t. With an air of infinite resignation she dropped her collection of tins and k ettles on the floor with a clatter. We are arranging the scenery, explained the Headmaster, to see how it looks best. The Scene-Painter nodded gloomily with absolute comprehension as the stage manager launched into a flow of descriptive imagery which increased into a torrent as it surged forth from his fertile brain. At 10:00 o ' clock she glanced furtively at her watch as she smoothed the folds of the cheese-cloth curtains for [ Page Nineteen ]

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Brentwood College Magazine R. YOUNG : Did not develop as much as a wicket-keeper as had been hoped. A good bat, but too inclined to have a go before really getting sight of the ball. A. E. FOX: Has bowled quite well at times, but must remember that length comes first. Has the makings of a useful bat, but wants to make runs too quickly. P. A. CHERNIAVSKY: Has kept his place on the side by his great improvement in the field. Has played some very useful innings when they were much needed. Needs to develop some shots on the off. P. G. MAY: Has the makings of a very useful bat, but seldom got going, lacking confidence in his own ability. Only a fair field. A. W. CALHOUN: A very keen field, always on the alert, but must try to throw in more quickly. May develop into quite a good hitter when he learns to watch the ball more carefully. J. W. PITTS : A very useful field, throws well. His batting has improved but he is too inclined to play back to every ball. Colours. i i i SHOOTING The Cadet Corps showed great keenness and improvement in the shooting this year. Besides the regular shooting by platoons on Wednesday afternoons, several matches against the R.A.F. and other teams were held on Sunday eve- nings, in which the school was uniformly successful. Early in the school year thirty of the best marksmen from the Corps shot for the King George V Trophy ' obtaining a remarkably high average. Two teams of five men entered the Junior Small Bore Rifle Team Championship. One team placed second in British Columbia, and in the second stage captured the provincial championship and placed fifth in the Dominion with a score of 1425 out of a possible 1500. During this competition Cadet C.S.M. McClean shot a possible 100 x 100, entitling him to a silver spoon presented by Miss Elizabeth Wilson. The Inter-House shooting was closely contested with the Lower House taking the trophy by a margin of three points, making them the present holders of the Mrs. Parr Cup. The Holmes-Nairn Cup for the best all-round shot was awarded to Cadet C.S.M. McClean. Cadet Sgt. V. G. Holland was instructor of musketry. The scores out of a possible 300 for the Provincial Championship were as follows: Cadet C.S.M. J. McClean 295 Cadet Sgt. V. G. Holland 291 Cadet A. Cavenagh 288 Cadet Lieut. A. E. Gillespie 282 Cadet P. Cherniavsky 269 | Page Eighteen]

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Brentwood College Magazine the fifty-ninth time. At 10:15 she yawned behind her hand as she helped to adjust the backdrop in its ninety-ninth position.. (The figures, of course, are merely approximate.) Once a bell shrilled somewhere from the depths of the building, bringing a wild gleam of hope to the S.P. ' s eye, but the ad justment of the backdrop and the smoothing of the cheese-cloth continued as before. A dull despair settled on her spirit — Time had mercifully ceased to exist; nothing mattered any more . . . Holy jumped up jiminy! ejaculated the S.M. suddenly, with a vigour which roused the Scene-Painter from her coma with a start, it ' s time for my egg-nogg. And mine! echoed the H.M. The sound of their rapidly departing footsteps was drowned by the tramp- ing of many feet, as though an invading army were pouring into the gym. As indeed it was, in a sense, for the next quarter hour was filled with curt commands and the rhythmic sounds of drilling. At length, however, drill, like everything else, came to an end, and an almost unearthly silence reigned in its stead. A few moments quiet was sufficient to demonstrate the extraordinary resilience of the human spirit. After all, reflected the S.P., they have left me almost two hours, and a lot can happen in that time. The sinister truth of this platitude was to be impressed upon her with quite unnecessary force, but fortunately she was unaware of what fate had in store. With great haste and inaccuracy she mixed the glue size with the once-hot water and was soon immersed quite literally in an occupation reminiscent of child- hood ' s mud-pie days — the mixing of scene-paint. Prussian blue, scarlet and violet were soon ready to splash on the canvas — to say nothing of the floor, her overalls, face and hands — in her usual dashing and inimitable manner. Before finally putting brush to canvas she paused to consult her watch — a fatal mistake! She noted that it was 10:50, just as a step was heard in the passage outside, and the handle of the glass door was rattled violently. A wild desire to commit hari-kari seized the S.P., who luckily recalled in time that we were at war with Japan and this would be an unpatriotic act. Someone entered. He looked startled on seeing the paint-bespattered apparition before him, but even this did not daunt his brave spirit. Like stout Cortez, he looked silently upon the scene, but the Scene-Painter felt uneasily that somehow he was not quite so impressed by what he saw. She was far to self-conscious of her tech- nique, which was apt to be — -well, shall we say, unusual — to go on with her work while anyone was looking on. At last her visitor spoke. What is it meant to be? he asked kindly. Oh!-er-a-a temple scene, replied the S.P., hanging her head shame-facedly. [Page Twenty]