Burlington High School - Rarebits Yearbook (Burlington, Ontario Canada)

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26 RAREBITS nthing ew Huber the Sun By NINA L. EDWARDS ' We often hear the statement that there is nothing new under the sun. And conversely it is said by certain moral people that their fel- low-men have degraded and changed to an alarm- ing degree in not so very many years. Of the two opinions we are more willing to believe the first for an exhaustive review of history makes it apparent that human nature does not change even in the course of centuries. For instance, many people think that the Hracketeern is a product of this modern age and would be surprised to know that racketeering existed during the time of Caesar and Pompey. The name of the first recorded man with a racket was a wealthy Roman named Lucinius Crassus, who trained a host of slaves in the art of fire-fighting. Whenever a housecaught fire he would offer a small sum of money for the burning building. As soon as the owner said Sold, Crassus would shout for his trained slaves and they would put out the fire. If accidental fires were scarce this Roman Racketeer would start his own. They did not touch him because he was too rich and influential. After a while he commenced to dabble in politics and along with Ceasar and Pompey, became a member of the First Triumvierate. The ancient Roman world is very like the modern with regard to politics. Wealthy Romans would buy the votes of the poor citizens in order to be elected to office. The same prac- tice was carried on in the time of Disraeli and Gladstone when candidates for office counted as legitimate those expenses incurred in buying up the votes in their boroughs. To-day, although, this practice is not carried on so flagrantly, it is whispered, and not too stealthily, either, that politics are not as pure as they might be. Certain high-minded citizens deplore the fact that all their fellow-men care for to-day is amusement-and brutal amusement, at that, when one considers the number of people who attend boxing and wrestling matches, not to mention rugby games. Less than a century ago the prize-fights were on a much lower plane while there were, besides, dog-fights and cock-fights. Further back still there was bear-baiting and earlier even than that knights in Europe used to indulge in tourneys and tilts in which some of them might easily be killed. The most brutal sports of all, however, were the gladiatorial combats of ancient Rome-matches in which the spectators were glad to see the combatants killed. Our modern amusements seem tame in compari- son with these, but the fact remains that man has always had his amusement and probably always will. In the light of these facts it must seem that though time goes on human nature never changes. And is not this a fortunate thing for according to a famous English writer, There is nothing in the world' more noble than man and the soul of man. Siixtg-Einar Nnthing FRED MILLIGAN IIB. 'Tis the day before Thursday, CA Wednesday by rightj. The team is anxious And prepared for the fight. The day dawns quite clear We are glad to relate, For we have a game with Milton And it's Burlington's big date. Ken kicks the ball. Gee, watch it soarl The crowd is waiting, Who'll make the first score? Berry makes a touchdown! Hear the crowd cheer 5 I know that the game Will be ours this year. Nineteen to nothing, The score at half. Milton is silent, Burlington laugh. The whistle is blowing, What is the score? Sixty-four-nothing Let's do it some more! wk ik Pk Bisilluniun e I passed this way before, I know the place. And I recall the closing of a door, The sudden sea-wind in my face, And how the waves crept sobbing up the shore. Alonel The hills were silent. Only I Yvalked with my thoughts beneath a strange- starred sky. Those glitt'ring idols of the past Like broken shadows lie. And dreams, our dreams, like blurred things, move Along my line of sky. Perchance that I may pass this way again. But when the last star falls, ah then-what then?

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RARE interesting book she ever did was the work of the Swedish writer, Selma Lagerlof, a Nobel prize winner. After the death of Mr. Page, Miss Mcllwraith although she had left the firm, was asked to aid Burton Hendrick in writing the Letters of Page. I was surprised to find that most of her books were written because she had been especially asked for them. Her last one, Kinsmen at War , had a rather tortuous climb to the press. A publisher had asked her to write it to celebrate the hundred years of peace between Canada and United States. She wrote it, but in the meantime the Great War broke out and the publisher was ruined. She sent it the rounds of the New York houses. It returned. Too British! they all protested. Later when a friend of hers was visiting the old country she sent Kinsmen along to the London publishers. Again the book returned but this time because it was too Americanul And so it lay, un- accepted, almost forgotten, until one day the author heard about a contest. She thought about the old manuscript and on a chance once more mailed it off. This time it was accepted and won the prize. Of all her books Miss Mcllwraith likes best her work on Sir Frederick BITS 25 Haldiman. Personally I have always been on the opposition, she said. In the 'Little Admiral' I tried to show how it felt to lose Quebec. Somehow to me there was something fine in that statement. There are few indeed who have the understanding and the gallantry to paint the other side. I asked her how her interest in the French Canadians had been so aroused. The answer was that she had spent years in school with girls from Quebec, that her sister had married a man from Quebec and had gone there to live and that she herself spent as much of her time as she possibly could in Quebec. She loves it allgthe picturesque old grandeur, the quaintness and simplicity of the habitants' lives but most of all the character of the habitants themselves. The French Canadians are our broth- ers now. They are a fascinating and lovable race. We should be proud to share with them our Canada. The writer's face was serious as she said 1t. Then- What if Quebec were inhabited by 'Reds'? The twinkle was back. Laughing, I took my leave of Doubleday Page's elderly maiden aunt. Swrnnh Elinrm lift. y By PAULINE TANCOCK The second form Lit has just begun The whole school's waiting for the fun, The programme's to be brief and sweet Here's the announcer short and neat. Everyone knows that its little Ioe Two senoritas, dark and fairl Spanish music fills the airl Over the crowd they cast a spell. Whol VVhy, Helen Daggett and Iean Bell Here is the big.event of the day! Read to tell us about the Show' Ioe is announcing the second form play. V By the smile upon his face, Second form Lit will set a pace. Ernie Berry and Elizabeth C. Sing two songs quite merrily. Next comes Alice to recite. She gives us a piece that's very bright. Now Second shows what they can do. And Fourth are pulled down a peg or two. Now we see Russell from Form IIA. He has the major part of the play. Here comes Fred, slick and trim, Everyone is delighted with him. Mary Burnet is deserted by Fred, And falls for Russell, heels over head. They act their parts without a pause, And the hall is filled with hearty applause.

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RAREBITS 27 gg.. ati. aa Algernnn Inga Zliunthall fifiiiiia By DOROTHY BIGGS, IV. Algernon Archibald Wvendelwendel deter- minedly closed unwilling ears to the professor's droning voice, and surrendered himself complete- ly to the ecstasy of his dreams. Algernon's one aim in life was to be a great, strong, silent UD football hero, worshipfully adored by all the fair co-eds. Yvhy, he could even see the home- town paper blazing forth the news of his fame, Local Boy Plays Spectacular Game, Greatest Football Hero of His Time. Is greeted by Mayor and thousands of Fans. Algernon Archibald Vtfendelwendel, the Gridiron Flash. But in his thought lurked the cold fact the he was only an insignificant sophomore, and so with a start he came back to earth-or rather to class. The lecture over, Algernon gathered his books in a neat little pile, arranged his spotted bow-tie, readjusted his glasses, and briskly set out for the seclusion of his room. There would have been many a surprised student had Algernon's private sanctuary been invaded. It was anything but prim and de- corous as one would have imagined. The walls were fairly littered with the trophies and snaps of recent-and otherwise-football heroes. Torn bits of uniforms, helmets, bedraggled school colours bedecked the remainder of the available space. The only other recognizable object in the room was a full-length mirror, which counted much in the realization of his life ambitiong for in front of this mirror he religiously rehearsed the manly art of self-defense, and the various foot- ball tackles he had seen the players adopt. It was to this precious sanctum that Algernon wended his way. But, once in his room, he imagined himself no longer insignificant but rather the idol of all football fans. Before the mirror, and to an imaginary audience, he re- hearsed the type of play which was to make him famous. Making a violent dash through the opposing line ttwo stuffed pillowsj, and lunging wildly at the defeated half-back fthe bed-postj, he succeeded in scoring the winning touch-down tbetween the goal-posts of chair and desk.Q Further athletic activities were halted by an imperative thumping on the door and four voices chanting in base discord, Oh why did they call me Archibald? Timidly opening the door our hero espied three of his class-mates, commonly known as The Dauntless Three because of their football prowess. The leader of this trio salaamed low before our would-be star and with mocking voice and supercilious grin presented a package. Well, Romeo, another epistle from Iuliet. This thing has been going on for six weeks now. How about putting us wise, Algy? What's her name? Is she a blonde? Er-er-uh-well, really. VVhy, nothing of the sort, my dear fellows! This speech brought forth loud guffaws from the self-appointed messengers. Do you expect us to believe that? Prove itl Open'up your parcel or we'll spill the news to the gang. It would have taken a much more courageous man than Algernon to withstand the threats of these college men, so with trembling fingers he reluctantly unsealed the fatal envelope. Crowd- ing around him and peering over his shoulders they were confronted by these words. Inter- national Correspondence Schools. How to Play Football in 60 Days. Lesson 6-Tackling. Oh, my sainted great aunt Gertrude's horsehair sofal The current saying of the time burst forth simultaneously from the three visitors. Do you think you can learn to play foot-ball that way?U Algernon cleared his throat and declared pompously, Laugh all you may but l believe foot-ball to be a science in which brain Plays a greater part than brawn, and that theory is infinitely more important than practice. We'll take you up on that tomorrow, threatened the Dauntless Three. Eager to be rid of his tormentors, Algernon rashly acquiesced to their challenge and the three marched off with satisfied grins on their faces. After an anxious review of the first six lessons our hero retired to his bed, hoping on the morrow to convince his Challengers of the truth of his theory and incidentally of his own powers. Came the dawnl Tempus fugit-so thought Algernon as the fatal hour approached. Promptly at 2.50 he appeared on the field, ridiculously clad in the proverbial football togs-shorts and sweater and helmet and what-not. His appear- ance was hailed by a roar of laughter which audibly increased when they saw that he carefully held his pamphlet on How to Play Footgall in 60 Days . The Dauntless Three marched out towards him with military precision, singing lustily, See, the conquering hero comes. Our Hero received this doubtful praise with becoming modesty but before he could reply a voice snapped out close to his ear, Let's get going. Consulting Book No. 3, Rule 15, Algernon took his place on the field. The play began. The first few minutes were spent with no spectacular play on the part of our hero. But finally his big moment came-alasl the fatal day. Unsure of his play, Algernon frantically thumbed over the pages of Book No. 5, but Hnally unable to find the correct solution to the present problem, he decided that it must be in the forth- coming pamphlets. While doing this he missed a splendid play and was madly boned by the crowd. The rest of the play was equally con- fusing to him. Forgotten were all rules and theories, and he realized that any number of these are useless against mass and weight. Humiliated and disgraced, he slunk from the field with but one aim in view-to destroy all aspirations in the direction of a football career and to resort to a more genteel art-interior decorating. '