Central Etobicoke High School - Etobian Yearbook (Etobicoke, Ontario Canada)

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She .fion As the first ray of daylight reflects off the brown and purple veldt, The lean and muscular body of the lion emerges from its lair, Walking unpurposely over the vibrant veldt, blossoming with vivacious hues, that once was his kingdom. But now fear is in the heart of this mighty and brave monarch, Like a coward he crouches low, hiding among the mysterious shadows, Age! Once he was a brave and a mighty monarch ruling his huge kingdom, As his roar, like a rolling thunder, angry, maiestic and commanding, would break the silence of the peaceful plain. But, man, the destroyer of living things, has cast a shadow of death . X If fe , ft if V! , M fs 'F 17 lx ll ll ltlxll X 1 it il Nl X I A K! xx QPK4.. With Uhoughts of ,fave The pine trees swayed softly, The sun glistened above, His heart filled with gladness, He had fallen in love. His love was no mad one Of passion and flair, But one filled with kindness, With trust, and with care. And he thought, as he sat there With her at his side, That they could be carefree With God as their Guide. Then the sun slowly faded, From the old hollow log, Home trod the two lovers: A boy and his dog. I8 Uhe GOUACY Who 's the stranger, mother dear? Look, he knows us, ain't he queer? Hush, my boy, don't talk so wild. He's your father, dearest child. He's my father? No such thing. Father died away last spring. Father didn't die, you dub! Father joined the golfing club. Then as seasons always close, He comes home to sit and doze. No place left for him to roam, That is why he's coming home. See he's not so queer my child All those golfing guys are wild. feflections When you are bitter and filled with doubt, Rest awhile, and dream, and think of the world about A winter tree etched on a sunset sky, At dawn the wild geese winging by, An evening star, new born, The sweetness of early morn . June-bugs droning in the noon-day glow, Street-lamps spraying diamonds on the snow, A mountain top, serene and cool, Still leaves mirrored in a mountain pool. A Springtime song you can't quite recall, The golden haze of early fall, The warmth of a beloved friend, The lights of home as you round the bend. Seek love and faith, and ask not proof, ls not God 's earth the simplest truth?

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Driving Lessons There comes a time in almost everybody's life when he wishes to graduate from the foot-sore class of the pedest- rian to the relaxed class of the driver. Psychologists say it is a sudden wish to be the hunter instead of the hunted, and if the individual locks himself away in a dark room for a few weeks, the condition might pass away. lf, however, it persists and the patient succumbs to the urge to get behind the wheel, there is nothing that anyone can do about it. After this decision has been made, quite naturally the patient will begin to look for an instructor, as driving is not an art picked up from last month's Ladies Home Joumal or similar mechanics magazine. Assuming the beginner has acquired his teacher from the local driving school, rest home, or ulcer ward, he is now ready to hit lamong other thingsi the road . This road, by the way, should be long and straight if possible, however, this is optional, as the beginner will be too busy with more important things than the road and where it is. The instructor will inform the novice about the various pedals, levers, and dials that confront him on the first run. For instance, he will point out the difference between the choke and the nob that opens the ashtray. After the pupil has learned for thinks he has learnedl the importance of these items, he is now ready to take over at the helm with his trusty instructor who is trying to look as confident at his side as is humanly possible. The command to start the engine is given . Nervously the novice turns and pushes the various objects he knows will start the engine. We're off! shouts the instructor. The accelerator is cautiously pushed down now-nothing happens except the gurgling groans of the dying engine . At this point the beginner learns of another lever device, the brake. The trainer casually infomws the novice it is a customary proceedure to release the brake when pulling away. Several tries later the two occupants of the ill-treated car are speeding along at the dizzying rate of first gear. Next step is second gear. Grind-groan . Oh, yes, the clutch goes down when changing gears, doesn't it? Quite a natural mistake. Sooner or later fin the case of females much laterl the beginner progresses from this stage and becomes a full- fledged driver rushing around the streets with houses and most of the people whizzing by. Naturally even the professional driver is not perfect. For this reason l have concluded with a list of books which he will find very informative. - One Thousand and One Methods of Removing One Thousand and One Dents. - Law Courts and Their Operation . - Crossing the Bar. - Taxidermists' Handbook. Johnnie Gopher and the Dance There was a time when animals lived exactly as we do, and here to prove this is the story of Johnnie Gopher and the dance . Johnnie was worried, here it was two days before the annual school dance, the Stay-at-Home , and Marilyn Mongoose hadn't said that she would go. As he rounded a corner in the hall, he saw Marilyn talking to Joe. A wave of iealously swept over him, for Joe, the Goat, was a great football hero and played alongside his brothers the Rams. But he, Johnnie, was only a Gopher. Visions of Marilyn, dancing in her white strapless formal, were fast becoming dreams in which he would play no part. Then he thought maybe he did have a chance to take Marilyn . Joe, a great football hero, was conceited at times. So when noontime came, Johnnie hurried to find him. He walked up in his most unassuming manner. Say, Joe, he said, who are you taking to the 'Stay-at-Home ? Why, I thought you would know, he replied, Marilyn Mongoose. Oh, her, Johnnie answered, is that all? l'm taking Ruth Robin, one of the cheerleaders at Hill and Forest School. ln fact, l shall be meeting her at her house iust before the dance . She lives quite a ways, maybe ten miles walk or so. But gee, he added, it's sure worth it! Bye, kid, Joe shouted back. Hope l see you at the dance. l hope it will work. Will he be surprised when he gets there,-a good ten miles from nowhere. Johnnie said . When after the next class Johnnie saw Marilyn in the hall, she looked as if she had been crying. What is the matter? he asked . Oh, Johnnie, she sobbed, Joe iust told me he had another important engagement and he can't take me to the dance. What can l do? Don't worry, l'll take you, said Johnnie. And when the next night came, Johnnie and Marilyn, in her white formal, were dancing beneath the stars. Joe Goat was also under the stars, about ten miles away though, still looking for a Ruth Robin's house. So you see, even then, long ago, things were much the same-dances, parties, and football games. And if you have ever heard of a person on the wrong end of a joke being called Joe Goat it might easily have come from this incident. You never can tell. i7

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Feeble Fiction One of the forms of current American literature is the pocket-book form of fiction . One of the things to be noted about these books is the cover. It is interesting to note that ninety percent of them show us a man and o woman . Usually they are seen standing facing each other, but often are found reclining on beaches lor anything else that will attract the attention of the censorl . Almost always the woman is in a gown which she never actually wears, in the true sense of the word, but rather lets it cling to her. The man is always young and clean-shaven, and is usually found looking into the woman's eyes with nimble- brained denseness. How one would like to see a real man come up and land him a solid kick from behind. The interior of the book is much duller than the cover. The characters are introduced simply as the man and the woman. She is usually the wife of another man. The stories soon become so filled with suspense and drama that they demand to be expressed in a whole new language of their own. One scene might run like this. He had found her in his room when he returned to the hotel. He stood looking at her. Even though her back was to him, she could sense his presence. They stood there sensing each other. She turned . So you've come back, he iced. Yes! she snurgled desperately, and you cannot refuse me, for . . . For what? he crooked, his ears rising several inches in expectation. She glooped him straight in the eye . For he knows everything , she replied . His ears fell heavily by the side of his head . No, it cannot bel he gurgled. But it is! she glumped, it is! Suddenly the door flew open . It was he, the other man, her husband . He faced them, a supercilious sneer curling his lip. He held o gun. So it was you, he snickled, looking the man in the face. The man smiled weakly and fainted. You! the woman cried, icing her husband straight in the face. You followed us here, you have a gun, what are you going to do? Heavens to Betsy! She threw herself on his breast with a broken sob. Oh, what have I done? Forgive me! I-I love you, she slobled, her voice spilling with guff. No, Hortense, it is I who am to blame. I allowed you to run loose about the city while I attended meetings of the Old Fellows' Sewer scrubbing Club. You never loved me. Now I have nothing left. Good-bye, my beloved . He threw her passionately across the room . Suddenly she heard a sharp report in the hallway. A flood of warm liquid swirled across the room . Her husband's voice was heard crying, Hortense. Come quicklyl Help me! The radiator's sprung a pIug! She fainted. Wirzter' The morning is dark The sky very blue Down the road some students are walking. Hurry, you fools! Remember the rules Walk faster and cutout that talking. The time is past nine No, there isn't a fine- Still, a penalty for being late! You may get a detention Yes, even suspension So why should you risk such a fate? The hours are set And lest you forget, They are there for you to adhere to. You can save your regret And with scorn not be met If you're there well in time for the set-to. This is my rhyme. No, it isn't sublime, But it sure took a lot of my time. Uhr Big Storm The forecast threatens every day To bring a heavy storm, The ads are filled with winter clothes And rubbers dry and warm. And as we leave for school this morn All wrapped in scarves we go, To wade and plunge our weary way Through endless drifts of snow. The cars are stuck, their tires clo spin, And drivers? Have no fears, Instead their brimstone curses ring While grind their clashing gears. The teachers are so late that morn What ioy the pupils know, For weary, wet, half-frozen staffs No sympathy they show. But soon the wind and snow are gone, They stop their wintry blast, The traffic moves, the streets are clear, King Winter leaves at last. I9 I A