Central Collegiate Institute - Analecta Yearbook (Calgary, Alberta Canada)

Page 15 text:

when the barnyard gate swung open with a ghostly creak and Old Sam, “the community’s loud-speaker,’ issued forth. “Well boys, yer ol’ dad is here, and I’ll tell ye that he can tree more coons in one month than you’d tree in a year. Come now, you needn’t look so glump, ’cause I’m a-goin’ with you tonight and there’s no gettin’ away from it.” “Sure, dad. We’ve bin sayin’ that it ud be no fun without you. Hurry now, we’ll take the milk to the house. Mind, we’re leavin’ as soon as the seperatin’ is done.” Fifteen minutes later, the little party started up the lane that led past the corn field to the woods. Watt was wearing a new pair of five dollar high-top leather boots, which he had bought in town that after¬ noon. Old Sam was so busy planning in his mind how he was going to show his boys a thing or two about coon hunting that he didn’t notice the smothered laughter nor the elbow nudging of the boys, who were greatly pleased with the prospects of the evening. They climbed the old rail fence and cut through a corner of the co rn

Page 14 text:

12 The Analecta with the unfolding of different social conditions and with the influx of races of widely different ideals and attainments. In our own time the “bookworm” and the “grind” have ceased to command much attention from our practical age. The demand for well- equipped men or women with a broad, sane outlook on life, has given a different coloring to our school systems. And yet perhaps in this very breadth of action may be a possible danger. For there is no such thing as standing still. The student of today needs to have experience in virile scholarship which comes only from intensive application to some problem in which he has interest. Concentrated and intensive study will lead a student to assume the attitude of the learner. Knowledge with him be¬ comes a truly absorbing passion, something to be held far above mere material reward—though that too may enter later. The student who comes to class with no ambition for excellence in scholarship and develops no such ambition during his school life is the more susceptible to baneful influences which tend to pull him down rather than to uplift him. At bis best he is but a drifter coming into class because his pal docs and remaining away for the same reason. To this end every student should as early as possible show a marked interest in some subject or group of subjects and develop special pro¬ ficiency in that line. Here is something of intrinsic value, something of permanent worth. “Nothing,” says a prominent educator, “gives more assurance of moral stability than dee]) interest in some department of learning.” The years of early adolescence are most favorable for nurtur¬ ing this interest for the student in high school is capable of more mature thinking than heretofore while retaining the enthusiasms of early man¬ hood or womanhood still undampened. Let us do many things—if we can. But let us first of all learn to do a selected few things well, rather than many things indifferently. And the result is worth while. The dividends of the scholar’s profession are things of permanent value, measured in terms of culture, breadth of knowledge, clearness of mental vision, and to crown all the satisfaction of being engaged in an absorbing, worth-while pursuit. R. B. F. DAD WINS-! It was a beautiful moonlight September evening in Old Ontario. From the golden cornfield, through the shadows came the quivering “Ou u u u oo.” of that little animal known as the raccoon. In the stable doorway, stood two youths in serious conversation. For several moments there was a thoughtful silence, then one exclaimed: “I’ve got it, Phil, listen—z z z z z z z when dad comes out blusterin’ round and swearin’ that he’s agoing with us, we’ll say, Alright dad, we’re mighty glad to hev you, then for the fun. Ha! Ha! He’ll never want to go on another coon hunt with us!” More whispers and then a plan was decided upon. They scarcely had time to compliment each other upon their extremely brainy plan

Page 16 text:

14 The Analecta field till they reached a spot where the crop and woods met. For the next ten minutes, they tramped on without discovering a single racoon although their sharp whistle could be heard in the distance. Then of a sudden, Phil shouted that he had one. Now, these little animals on finding themselves discovered always climb a tree. So, Watt gave his father a club and after ordering him io hit the coon when he shook it off the limb, climbed the tree. However, Old Sam’s brain was still active, and realizing that, if he by any chance, should miss his prey, the boys would tease him ever¬ lastingly, he quietly exchanged the club for an axe. “Here he comes, dad! Watch! There he goes!” A dark object crashed through the tree limbs and the old man, with all possible pre¬ cision raised the axe into the air and bringing it down pinned the dark mass to the ground with a vicious stroke. In order to be sure that the coon was dead, he repeated the above operation with great deliberation. Watt climbed down and the two boys very seriously came to examine dad’s dead coon, when to their dismay they discovered that dad had used the axe instead of the club and a mangled piece of leather was all that remained of a pair of five dollar boots. Dad had won. Z. J. OLIVER, XIC. WHOOZE WHOO IN XIA Daisy Benbow—Care will kill a cat—therefore let’s be merry. Wilfred Bell—“The Alaskan”—the most famous hunter in C.C.I. Wilfred Beresford—Lions make leopards tame. Helen Brown—Is yon red glare the western star? Lucy Cooper—Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. Irene Chiswell—Don’t put too fine a point to your wit, for fear of its getting blunt. Betty Clark—Of manner mild, of affection gentle. Fred Cooper—He is rarely heard to speak. Arthur Cragg—Behold! Learned Cragg whose vast knowledge pre¬ serves XIA’s greatness yet. Dorothy Dingman—What I learned I have forgotten—what I know I have guessed at. Alva Drysdale—Whatever happens I shall be satisfied. Cecil Dawdy—I wonder exceedingly if I have done anything at all good? Frank Dickson—Taking everything into account he did very well. Enone Evans—If thou wouldst bluff bluff well, and thy teacher will not know. Lillian Tupper—Her talents are of the more silent class. Richard Wallace—Did nothing in particular and did it very well. George Waterman—There’s at least one in every school. (Apologies to Briggs.) Fred Webster—They say best men are moulded out of faults. Robert Winters—Think of your namesake Robert Clive. There’s still some hope for you.