Daniel McIntyre Collegiate Institute - Breezes Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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D. M. C. I. BREEZES 25 His shrill voice was interrupted by the thundering tones of Mr. Arden. “Put the man out, he’s crazy!” The old man fainted, and Kit rushed forward and tried to raise him. “Oh, Tom, you can’t put him into the street,” Mrs. Arden spoke. “No, I suppose not,” with a flushed face. “You had better cany him upstairs.” Accordingly upstairs the man was carried. • At seven-thirty the guests began to arrive. Fair girls, fat girls, thin boys, dark boys, but all with invitations. As the dancing and games progressed, Mr. Arden kept his eyes on one boy. He was dark, like Kit, and carried himself with the straight, erect posture of a good athlete. No matter what was done he was the centre of the group. By the time the guests had gone, the house was in a turmoil and Mr. and Mrs. Arden were “wrecks.” Kit sat in his chair, his hair rumpled and a twinkle in his clear eyes. “Well, that’s over!” Mr. Arden finally gasped. “Kit, who was that dark fellow, the boys and girls followed all the time?” Kit waited until his father had lighted a cigar. “Well, pater, I might as well break the news. That was Len.” He laughed as his father opened his mouth in astonishment. “Yup,” he continued, thoroughly enjoying himself. “That’s my old pal, Len. You told the servants not to let in a ‘young man,’ so we fixed Len up. and he sure played his part well. Mother had an awful time taking off his make-up this afternoon.” Mr. Arden looked at his wife, and suddenly burst out with a hearty laugh, which was re-echoed from the hall, and in walked Len. “Well, I’m glad to meet you, Len,” admitted Mr. Arden. “So am I, sir,” Len declared, and Kit grinning impishly, added: “So am I. Come on, Len, let’s go to bed.” And to bed they went. —Florence McLeod, Room 56. SPRING The river banks are flooded; The ice goes tumbling down; The Assiniboine so happy is To shed her cold white gown. A warm south wind is blowing Through the budding trees; And far out in the distance Can be heard the hum of bees The first buds of the season Are the pussywillows gay, Decking trees like fairies In the cheery month of May. This is the year’s awakening Of gratefulness that sweep Rousing in us new streams From her long cold winter’s sleep; Unto the Giver of the Spring, With its sunshine, wind and rain, That drives away our cares, And makes us glad again. Rhoda Lander, Room 61.

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24 D. M. C. I. BREEZES thumping as loud as he could. Slamming his bedroom door, he threw himself on his bed and tried to figure things out. What could he do? He knew that if Len met his father, everything would be fine. Len was liked by all, and was always the centre of attraction. Anything Len did, was done in turn by the “freshies,” for the seniors were too haughty and proud to follow anyone’s lead. If he could only think of some way to get Len into the house. Finally he gave up in despair, and got himself ready for bed. In the middle of the night Kit woke up to find the rain coming in bis open window. Jumping out of bed, he pulled it down, feeling none the dryer. As he stood there in the darkness, with the pitter-patter of the rain in his ears, he thought of Len—poor Len, who would have to get up at six and feed the enormous mouths of the school furnaces. Suddenly an idea came to him, and it received as royal a welcome as a ship would have received from a shipwrecked sailor. Kit felt he couldn’t keep his secret, and pulling on a bathrobe and slippers, he crept into his mother’s room. Timidly he woke her, and told her his plan. Mrs. Arden was enthusiastic, and although she felt she would be deceiving her husband, she agreed to play her part. The next morning brought Kit downstairs with a sunny face, which he immediately altered to a sullen one on entering the dining room. “Well, son how are you? You should look happy on your twenty- first birthday.” “Yes I should,but I’m not, Pater; for the last time, are you letting lien come tonight?” “No!” “All right,” Kit murmured. “Pride must have its fall.” As it was Saturday, Kit made straight for Len’s room in a cheap boarding-house, and told the boy his plan. “Why, Kit! I had no idea your father didn’t want me in your home,” Len declared. “Well, old pal,” Kit blushed and looked down, “Dad has queer notions, and 1 want you to change them. Are you going to help me?” “Sure thing, partner,” Len agreed. Accordingly two happy boys visited several shops and then re¬ turned to Len’s room. “It’s up to you now, Len,” Kit said, and seeing that everything was ready, he left. Down the street he went, hands in pocket, shoulders thrown back and whistling. At lunch Kit’s face had again that gloomy, sullen look. The meal began in silence and would have probably continued in silence, had not the dining room door suddenly burst open, and an old man hobbled in. His shoulders were stooped, his face wrinkled, his hair grey. “Mr. Arden, you are a thief! You’ve stolen my shares in your company. I demand-”

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D. M. C. I. BREEZES 2(5 Graduating Classes AN IDEAL SCHOOL Let me go to a school, wherever it be, Where a life of all ease I may find; Where history is banished, and French is left out, And my text-books I may leave behind. Let me find in that school, no terrible rooms, Where we ignorant may be detained; No worrisome office to which one is sent, And where late passes may be obtained. A school where Latin to me may be Greek, Where my homework will not me unnerve; Where in intervals long between classes so few, A sumptuous light lunch they will serve. Let me go to that school, wherever it be, As long as it is far, far, from this. I’ll have six months’ vacation just twice in each year, To the teachers I leave, ’twill be bliss. 1 —M.H., 58. ROOM 58, GRADE XII Back Row—Norman Wilde, William Quilliams, Stanley Boulter, Gordon Cain, Stewart Crerar, George Craig. Fourth Row—Mac. Malcolm, James Agnew, John Ridge, Clifford Wood, Sam Gerlovin, Morley Coleman, John Barnacal, Aley Binkley, Jean Cranston. Third Row—Betty Sawyer, Phyllis Loutitt. Isabel Craig, Margaret Bowser, Eleanor Bradburn, Helen Maclennan, Violet McLaren, Eleanor Thomas, Beatrice Quilliams, Grace Roberts, Wilda Crerar. Second Row—Ella Finlayson, Annie Metzak, Beth Douglas, Helen Couch, Kathleen Main, Gladys Horton, Nora Johnston, Jean Johnston, Ila MacCallum, Maude Rogers, Jean Campbell. Front Row—Mayme Dewar , May Johnson, Margaret Hill, Alice Shanks, Marjorie Nicholson, Kathleen Macaulay, Beatrice Ludwickson, Pauline Johnson, Marguerite Ross, Margaret Perley, Margaret Marsh, Missing—Stella Waite, Robert Alexander.