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Page 13 text:
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A Faithful Pal I Prize Story! It was a warm, bright, sunny day. I watched them cross the street at the corner of Carleton and Yonge. Brownie would tug at the leash, indicating the speed and direction for Keith to go, while two or three pedestrians stood watching, nearly getting run down by an oncoming car. Whenever an unex- pected car would come looming up, he would lean his huge body against Keith's leg, in this way stopping him, probably just in time. A friendly per- son advanced to offer aid, but Brownie stopped him with just one look, a bristling of hairs, and a show of big white teeth. Brownie trusted no one. Brownie was a big, brown, muscular brute that kept a watchful eye on his blind master. Sometimes when he looked up in-to those sightless eyes, a cloud seemed to pass over his face. Perhaps i.t was a wistful, half-pitying look, for the one and only friend he had. But now he had the feeling of repaying his master for all he had done 'for him. - '- Maybe I had better tell you how Brownie came to be a helper of the blind. It all happened one dark night while Keith Campbell tossed his bruised and worn-out body in his damp, dirty bunk away over in France. The screeching of the dropping bombs, a volley of bullets whizzing by, the anguished cry of a buddie who had been wounded, and now was dying-all these sounds penetrated Keith's aching head. Then there was a lull. What was that? No, it could not have been, but yes, it was the low, whimpering whine of a dog. How Keith loved a dog! Thoughts of the little brown spaniel waiting for him away back home filled his mind. The whimpering seemed close, so, drawing himself up on his stomach he proceed- ed to crawl out of the dug-out. Lying low for fear of a German sniper, he reached the side of what seemed to be a baby elephant, but no, it was just a big, brown dog wounded and bleeding badly. He had been shot through the thigh. W , 4 18 uHere, boy, nice old fellow, coaxed Keith drawing himself up beside him. The wagging of -the big tail and the happy little yipe made Keith know he was a welcome visitor. Keith managed to get him back to the dug-out, and there attended to his wounds by the light of a dim lantern. When the other boys came dragging their tired bodies into the camp, they were taken aback by the-sight of the escaped dog lying in the arms of Keith -I say Hescaped dogi' because he had broken away from -the German lines. The Germans had trained a number of dogs for spy dogs and here was one, right in our camp. Keith and all the fellows grew to love him. It was a while before all the wounds were healed on his body, but soon he was Keith's right hand man, always beside him through thick and thin. Then came that memorable day and night, which I shall never forget. It had been a particularly hard day, and then, at night, a German bomber came over and dropped a bomb on our dug-out. Oh! What a sight! Indeed I shall never forget it! Anguished faces por- trayed unutterable suffering, limbs were broken and badly mangled, and parts of bodies lay here and there. Keith lay white and still for many days on his hospital cot. All was dark- ness for poor Keith because now he was blind. That Hun had done his job, but we repaid him double and triple the following week. Keith was sent home and with him went Brownie. Now as I sit here in my arm chair, selling shoe laces and pencils ffor I lost both my legs in that fearful bomb- ingl, I watch Brownie guiding Keith carefully and surely through the traffic jams up to talk to me. My eyes grow misty. I just can't help it. Perhaps when I see people going around with their bodies whole, I cannot help but feel my position and poor Keith's. But the bitterness passes when we remem- ber that our sacrifice was for the 'cause of freedom. -SHIRLEY CUNNINGHAM, XI
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Page 12 text:
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Page 14 text:
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