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

Page 46 text:

44 E. H. S. YEAR BOOK The Graduates, 1933 And William Tanasiuk ploughs with lean kine, They were bred in Dakota in year ’99; He says they are old, but better for wear, He’ll sell them to John, who lives at Mundare. John Coyne has a trick of sailing down north, When study is hard, and Spring’s breaking forth; He loves the deep forest and broad open spaces, Where men are just men, and girls are but faces. And here’s Harold Orser, a maker of lath, He got a wild notion, when taking a bath; That suds that escape are no good to the bather, He’d make himself into a permanent lather. And here’s Margaret Reid like Micawber in Dickens Still watching the eggs that should have been chickens; As quiet a lassie as ever drew breath, She follows the chase, and will be in at the death. Now Margerite Woods, a student till death, She bustles to school, and arrives out of breath; We hear in the country she makes quite a stir, Cyclones or tornadoes have nothing on her. Then Mary the singer, with Nikipilo chime, She changes our metre, we cannot make it rhyme; We see her with turkeys, they sit in a ring, The eggs will hatch quicker, if Mary will sing. Here’s Kenneth K. Wallace, as calm as you please, Promoter of orchestras, percussion and keys; It seems that we still have the Music of Spheres, So pleasing a motion, it moves you to tears.

Page 45 text:

E. H. S. YEAR BOOK 4 : The Graduates, 1933 And Mike is a wrestler, his strength is that of seven, If you wrestle with him, you’d best prepare for Heaven; He likes to study history, of Kings and Knights and Squires, It was the game of chess, that many a youth inspires. Grace Morrison has but a half day in school, Her afternoon’s spent on a tall kitchen stool; She makes all the pies with pastry that’s slim And times all her baking by chanting a hymn. Now Mildred knows cattle, she comes from the farm. Not like the Lord Nelson who had but one arm; She’s clever at milking, with pail and with stool, She’ll be President next year of Edmonton Pool. Jo Flesher has got a Napoleon streak, You pin her in Elba, she’ll escape in a week; You tie her all up in a sack full of learning, You see her next day, ’tis the sack she is burning. One pauses to think of our Cliff as a man, For ten years he’s been in old Astrakan; He’s teaching the Turk to make power out of streams But still he’s a Clark with fancies and dreams. Yes, Edge is a keen one, he’s good at his comp., Just wrestles with words, and has a good romp; And knee-deep he stands in sentence and phrases, And sometimes he swears, as, ‘you go to blazes’. Some students, like houses, have attics to spare, And Sadie is one, her mind pastures there; Renewing old dreams when Time was her own, Strange bats in the attic? Oh no, they are flown.

Page 47 text:

E. H. S. YEAR BOOK 45 The Graduates, 1933 Now Charlotte’s a star in a blue firmament, She moves among gases that have a sweet scent; A chemist she’ll be, but what we do fear, She’ll shine all alone in her own atmosphere. Just look at our Jean, she’s known to us all, For her there’s no nickname, but just plain Jean Gall: We’ve known her for two years, or is it but three, She spins in church circles, in C.G.I.T. And Murray’s the King with no sceptre to hold, An eye for the battle where heroes are bold; There’s fire in his purpose, defiance he’ll show, We’d give him the rein, if he’s anxious to go. And Douglas MacKay makes one think of the burns, Where mills are in motion, power coming by turns; And the bluff Highland raider, rides home o’er the braes, Now Doug, goes to pasture, there’s homework to graze. k Then Helen called Molofee, not a bit loud, A sweet misty something, not unlike a cloud; You wonder when teaching, what pleases the eye, ’Tis Helen who’s smiling when all others sigh. Hobert Perley has the notion he would like to fly a plane, Just a pilot of the sunset, with a passenger or twain; If he rise to higher levels, piercing through the central blue By his chemistry he’ll do it, making laughing gas for two. Why John should delay the business of study Till the snow is all gone and the roads are all muddy; Hibernal he seems in winter he sleeps, Yet the crop is not green, in June when he reaps. And James Ross is canny, he came late to school, And brought a good note according to rule; His Pepsodent tube, it squeezed out too slack, It took him till nine to get it all back. Joe: I love you; I love you. Won’t you be my wife? Jess: You’ll have to see mamma first. Joe: I have seen her several times, but I love you just the same.