City Park Collegiate Institute - Park Bench Yearbook (Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Canada)

Page 55 text:

THE PARK BENCH 51 t-EATU RES TOO YOUNG TO GO She tried to keep the tears from falling as she helped Bob with the ribbon on his cap. H.M.C.S. Those letters H.M.C.S. kept ringing, like ships bells, in her mind,- H.M.C.S.-H.M.C.S.- He was so young to go. She took the opportunity, when he turned to the rnirror, to brush the telltale tears away. He passed his hand through the mop of sunshine he had for hair and then covered it With the stiff cap. He looked at his watch as if he were the admiral timing an attack. It's getting late, Mum. I can't be late in the Navy, you know. His father had given him his watch on his last leave. He had been an army man.-But his son-his son-stuck to the navy. Thank goodness he hadn't let Bob go the year before and lie about his age. He had been firm about that. I No son, he had said, You're too young to go. If they wanted them at your age they'd ask for them but you-you're still a baby. He had smiled at this last statement to avoid the inevitable reproach.-But now-nothing could stop him and nothing had tried. Bob kept looking at himself, not wishing to leave her. She could read the slightly frightened look in his eyes. Maybe she had spoiled him? His desire not to leave gave her some happiness when, calling good-bye, he ran down the path and disappeared behind the lilacs. She went back to her house work remembering how he had pulled down his jumper: how he had twisted around to straighten his collar, how he had been so particular about the cap ribbon being straight. And now, her son, her only son had gone. But surely, surely he would come back. And he wouldn't be too long. Thus encouraged she continued her work. Yes, he would be back-soon, running from the lilacs that had taken him, greatly ex- cited, his sailor suit terribly soiled, telling her of his first day at school. -SHEILA GORDON. EATING I have always liked eating. As long as I can remember, even when I was still crawling, I had a great love for my food. In those days it was milk puddings for meals and coal and earth between times, for roughage I suppose. I even managed to get a nickel down one day. Have I changed any? Not a great deal, I'm sure. My regular meals have changed the most, but chiefly in size, for I still like milk puddings. Now I gorge myself, using potatoes for bulk, until I feel a little too com- fortable. However, my in-between meals haven't changed. Instead of coal and earth I now chew upon pens, pencils, finger-nails, pipe stems, cigarettes and the odd stogie. Is there any difference? No! I don't think so-I still love eating. Don't we all? -DAVE DOW. ff TOP ROW: CLeft to rightj I. School spirit. 2. Who me? 3. He means busi- ness. 4. He's all wet. SECOND ROW: I. Congratulations, jocelyn, 2. French no doubt?? 3. Nice stuff. 4. I worry about things like that. BOTTOM LEFT: 1. Algebra or Good House Keeping?? 2. That's a dirty trick, hand it over. 3. She's a jumper too. BOTTOM RIGHT: I. The scavengers. 2. Champs.

Page 54 text:

1 X48 gin afx --1' 2 r' , Xl, , .3 f , X W, A . Q V., M.. an 6 Q vt0Q5 ' A0 AX 'QV Y '-ugh M M . J L Q g Q W T2 , aw, ..gi, f.gfQx4g'xj1M,E.f?Za is .' b A X kj r.,.,+--K -1 Z' 'f ' '11 A Qi I H Wu 4, N 1.953 -52 'Q 'EJ , W -5 5 . f N W

Page 56 text:

Nmw J 1 Z 4 Z , f Zi Z 45:5 ff fm, Q WL -Xxx . M f f HW f JM , W, 1 If f f Z 'W f, if Z f f X Z 1 Z ' ? 1 f 1 17 Q, 4 Z ' mn' dw-.4