Eastwood High School - Gazette Yearbook (Edmonton, Alberta Canada)

Page 42 text:

im 40 E.H.S. YEAR BOOK The Graduates, 1933 When Tanton first came to Eastwood for study He thought all the pathways of Knowledge were muddy; Like Shakespeare he found there’s more Knowledge in brooks, The better instruction is outside of books. And what shall we say of a girl that is small, Concealed in the classroom, and hidden in hall; Yet Olga Terplawy, minute though she be, Enjoys her horizons beyond you and me. And Frances finds pleasure where all others fail For our Frances Urquhart sees all the detail; The by-products of study just tickle her humour. The aura of sulphides, the passing of rumour. There is thought in the skater, and skill in the speed, The union of Knowledge and skill that we need; And Walker has both, he’s puckish we think, In motions and notions, he’s Knight of the Rink. Here’s Janet K. Watson, the best from the braes, All fired with the fervor of ballads and lays; As wholesome a lass, as Sir Walter might find, As fair as his Ellen, his Margaret, as kind. Lill Watson plays best at the difficult game, She likes the rough knocks, the fun’s all the same; We see her a nurse, a doctor’s right hand, She’s practising now in old Samarcand. And here’s Doris Watt as pleasant a lass As ever took physics in physics two class; The world is a place where many may study, But Doris intends her cheeks to be ruddy.

Page 41 text:

E.H.S. YEAR BOOK 39 The Graduates, 1933 ’Tis rare chat we have a school-boy de luxe. But Skinner shows taste in the candy he sucks; For Lawrence can flavor the poem he reads Give Lit. an aroma, and work while he feeds. Here’s Betty the buxom, a singer of glees, As bright as the sunrise, profound as you please; She’ll tune up the nightingale’s tongue to the lyre And light your best incense with Promethean fire. A Smith we have here of orchestra fame, No Irishman he, though Emerald by name; For Eastwood he charms, as once in old time The cow was inspired, so says the old rhyme. John Sollanych runs a mixed farm near Mundarc, He breeds the best cattle you see at the Fair; A patent for milking, he’s made from a drill, The cows all prefer it, it gives such a thrill. George Springham comes now, no salesman with patter. So cool in the head, his teeth sometimes chatter; A lad of good sense, and strong in control, He burrows through Knowledge, and makes a big hole. And Isabel rises with care on her brow, No wrinkles for problems that one would allow; For Isabel Stanley, refined in her taste, Finds sugar gone up, no sweetness to waste. Here’s Margaret called Storie, she’s known by her voice A pleasant soprano, her top notes are choice; You’ll hear of her later in Festival time The warmth of her music, the Spring of her rhyme.

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E.H.S. YEAR BOOK 41 The Graduates, 1938 What Mary would do if the sun did not shine, We fear we would miss Mary Wozny in line; But miss her we shall when autumn is near. The world will seem empty and barren and drear. P Sure Gordon has had a hard time for one year, When sickness is rife, one has but small cheer; Still here’s to our Webster, he’s going to make good He’ll blaze a straight roadway right out of the wood. P Some girls are so tall, that it seems hard to beat, To take in one look from the head to the feet; So Isabelle Welsh takes the top notes each day If height be the fashion, we’ll charge for display. P Bob White is a puzzle, jig-saw if you like. His corners don’t fit as the ‘M’ does in Mike; Secure in a dream of the world out-of-door, In study behind, in dreaming, before. When Williamson Peggy first trod a school floor, She lapped up instruction and looked round for more; She now has its measure in metre and tune, A life that is summer, September to June. And Lillian Yurechuk, an artist of faces, Paints models in stores and gives them their graces; She now dresses windows shows fashions and styles, And Paris is with us, with gowns and head tiles. P Mike Korpan is new to the Eastwood tune, He’s learnt all the beats and pauses for June; At Xmas he came, and ’twill not be long, You’ll hear him at Seba, a-singing our song.