Eastern High School of Commerce - Eastern Echo Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

Page 41 text:

WHILE THE GODS LAUGI-IED HE old clock in the ancient tower boomed eleven times over the city below, the sound echoed and refechoed among the buildings and was lost. It was a raw, wintry night in January. The biting wind blew down an ill' lighted street in the district of the Rue Mouffetard, whistling in the eaves of the houses and searching every cranny as the hounds of winter swept over the city of Paris. A figure stood at the door of a def crepit cottage, 'from the window of which came the fitful gleam of a lamp. It was one of those downfatfthefheel houses, the roof patched here and there with tin signs boasting the wares of soap and tobacco merchants. The frosted windowfpanes were cracked, the sills almost worn away by the weather, and the whole house-if it could be called a house-was perched at a crazy angle. The figure drew his cloak tighter about him, knocked at the broken door, and waited. Almost a full two minutes elapsed before he was rewarded by the sound of some one inside groping at the latch. The door creaked open, an aged woman, her hair dishevelled, a strained shawl around her shoulders and her shoes cracked and run down, stood before him, leering into his face with a toothless grin. Wel1,. what do you want? she croaked. The discomfited stranger braced him' self with an effort and asked, Is this number 79 Rue des Singes? Yeah, was the rude reply, What do you want here? The young man stepped back a pace or two in disgust, but he answered, I have just arrived in Paris. I come from your son, Armand. He asked me to visit you. Her face brightened for a second and a hoarse laugh broke her features into Thirty-two an added million wrinkles, as she grunted Come on inside. The young man hesitated and then reluctantly followed her into the cottage. On the broken table a cracked lamp kept harmony with the other sparse fur' nishings-a blanket nailed to the wall to keep out the wind, 'the rough pine floor, littered with straw and rubbish: an old stove which did little to relieve the chill of the room, a handleless cup on a cracked saucer. An empty beer bottle flung in a corner, and two dilapidated chairs completed the sight that met his astonished gaze. The woman motioned him to the less comfortable of the two chairs .gruff, Sit down! The young man, obviously ill at ease, seated himself and began his story. I am Francois Lebrun, just arrived in Paris, from Devil's Island. I knew your son, Armand, while I was there and as I had just finished my term, he asked me to deliver these gold pieces to you-he saved them up during the last five years. He produced a small leather pouch from an inner pocket and presented it to the woman, who grasped it covetously. and hugged it to her with a hoarse cackf ling noise. The young man turned his head from the spectacle, and then, anxious to be finished with his unpleasant assignment, he continued his message, rising from the chair. Armand sends his love to you and asked me to tell jacques, his younger brother, to take good care of you. At the sound of this last sentence, the woman was transformed. She began to laugh, at 'first just a cackle and then rising to a high crescendo. Tears streamed down her face, as her agitated body shook with hysteria. The young man stood speechless, look' ing wildly about him, and then with a fContinued on page 92j with a EASTERN ECHO

Page 40 text:

EXCHANGE GREETINGS TG OUR EXCHANGES We think that Northland Echo is a very neat heading for your year book North Bay C. I. Your book contained good humour and some splendid printing of small photos to illustrate. Teacher: Give me a sentence with the word 'frequent' in it . Pupil: The bearded lady escaped from the circus, and nobody knew where the freak went. Humor Editor: And these are your own jokes? Aspirant: Yes, I made them up myf self. Humor Editor: Well, you must be a great deal older than you look. The Argosy, Hamilton Central Com. Fred Sprague: Don't you ever use toothpaste? I. Argue: Why should I when I haven't any teeth loose? The Elevator, Bellville C.I. Hair: Did God make both of us Papa? Papa: Ye, junior. Hair: He is doing better work than He used to isn't He? -The Twig, U. T. S. EASTERN ECHO Doug: We are ready to start the play: run up the curtain. B. Payne: Say, what do you think I am, a squirrel? Mr. Foley fpointing to pencil shave ings under pupil's deskj. What are those little things under your seat? ' ,l.C. Wilson Qblushinglyj: L'My feet, sir. Tech Tatler, Danforth Tech Mr. Croal: Dobson, what are the seasons? Dobson: You mean in Canada? Mr. Croal: Yes, of Course. Dobson: Baseball, hockey and rugby. Dot: Do you know a train ran over my dog's tail the other day? Syb: Did it spoil his carriage? Dot: No, but it spoiled his 'waggin'. Vox Lycei, Ottawa WANTED Assistant butcher, one able to kill him' self, preferred. A boy to gather eggs fourteen years old. The Echoes, Peterborough North Toronto C. I., your Howler is generally alluring and has good illuf strations. just a suggestion4put in a few more photos. Thirty-one

Page 42 text:

i l MID-YEAR HONOUR STUDENTS Back Row: A. Bailey, S. Gaudin, R. Atkinson, E. Mann, H. Ronlian. Middle Row: R. Masterman, B. Burton, G. Ostboff, lf. Martin, li. Maxwell, M. Moise. Front Row: G. Eikre, NY. Kay, R. Marlin, M. Filsell, H. Swinfllelnirst, I. Lioleman. Absent : NI. Lornner. BOOK REVIEW LD Wiiie and New was written by Wzirwick Deeping. Imagine if you can, a sensitive man of perhaps fortyfthree years of age: a man whose world of literary work-afday routine was rudely shattered by the outbreak of the World Wzirg a man, who, striving to do his bit, rejected as unfit by every active branch of the British Army, at last found a niche in the Ambulance Service. Can you picture this man? Even after four years of Weir he shrank from every' thing that was cruel and coarse. He came home to that mad, delirious, hyf sterical world that was postfwar London, expecting to find his way back to his EASTERN ECHO old nook, only to discover that no one wanted a mildfmanncrcd man to review books or perhaps edit a Sunday religious journal. His job gone, unable to write things in tune with this new world, after weeks of bewilderment, be at last - But that, surely, is enough to intrigue the prospective reader. Vxfarwick Deeping's charm lics, to my mind, in his ability to put into words the things that you and l feel in our hearts. His characters are really human. Old Vw7ine and New will introduce to you one of our finest English authors. Thirty-three