Elmira District Secondary School - Oracle Yearbook (Elmira, Ontario Canada)

Page 14 text:

3 Q, - , -TQ X LT? Z-- Q isis fx Q Qgxl, glX.Tl' ,E- +X X A Q2 ' 5 Sk 5 X-1 .- f' Yi Nf. .gn 1.-Qsxifx if J -ii .bf-gg-3,-TN fqxfp-4 xii X1'QY1 E- x -TQ-1 :im Ein ui- ,2- , qw - a I r1b'lTSxrIif fxfxvw x -' 5 XX CX X Nnwis Rf c 5 Y , i X fx WY, , X945 n Q32 44 , T Q,-ix 1- '- x 1. fx l af Ax. XX-1' gd' 4 K It 11 I. I . l ic QNX if A 0 TKN , N341 -Qs :Wie ,X X M -Qxx wi :I 1 'X We fxifix kkfuflv 19 .nm v M L Cunningham, XI Shirley PRIZE ART

Page 13 text:

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

Page 15 text:

he Runaway It was harvest time. We were gath- ering the ripe golden grain. It was my job to look after the grain while it was being blown into the granary, my bro- therls to take the empty wagons back to the men in the field. This was usu- ally the way, but- 'LEleanor, my brother pleaded the second day. 4'Eleanor, will you take the horses back? I'm tired of taking them back all the time. Iill watch the grain, if you will.'7 So I agreed. All went well for I had our own familiar team. I felt quite happy and carefree as the horses trotted briskly back the lane. I sang Waltz me around again, Willief' literally duetting with the wind which at that moment happened to be wailing and whistling, and several echoes answered me. I arrived at my destination safely and just as safely brought the load of grain to the barn. The second wagon, however, had hitched to it a strange team, our neigh- bors'. But I started out bravely to take them, back singing HWaltz me around again, Willie! QI had that particular song on the brain that dayj. Then sud- denly I became aware that something was wrong, very wrong, the little black horse was rather jumpyg then. . smack! something whacked him across his belly! He leaped up. . . and was away, dragging his mate with him. First those horses paced. . . they they gal- loped. . . then they flew. fa runaway horse runs blind and wild!! That song Waltz me around again, Willie! fmonotonous is it?J kept running around in my. . . er. . . ah. . . troubled mind. I wonder if they'll give me a nice funeral. . . If only I can get them pulled into the fence, that'll stop themli' I thought, frantically pulling on the lines. Apparently when horses run away they're oblivious to anything but running, for they paid not the slightest heed to the tug on the lines. But I kept on hoping and At least I'm getting a swift free ride. . . Waltz me 20 around again, Willie. . . I'm pulling as hard as I can. . . ah! they're respond- ing. . . I'll get them stopped yet. . . yi-i-i the culvert! . . Waltz me around again, Willi-e - around, around. . . crash! bump! bang! . . . . . . around . . . around . . . around! I sat up, bumping my head on the wagon, which was overhanging me and on a drastic angle at that, and thinking that after all, a ditch, especi-ally if it is just off a culvert, isn't such a bad place . . . not if you consider all its good points. I saw the wagon. . . a wreck. . . the tongue gone. . . the rack broken. . . I rose gingerly only to find that my silly knees were trembling so that I could hardly stand. Then I caught a glimpse of Dad racing toward me, shouting, Eleanor, Eleanor, are you hurt? When he found that I was not, he went back to find the horses. Where were they? . . why . . . away back in the creek and heading for Montreal no doubt. .lust to prove that I wasn't too scared I took the runaway team up to the barn and told them what I thought of them. I That was all . . . but I didn't sleep much that nighrt. . . just lay there and hummed Waltz me around again, Willie- - -ii ELEANOR SLIMMON, XI The Unfortunate Rescue Two men were walking on a high bluff overlooking the valley of a river. Both of them were members of the British Embassy, and, judging from their heavy boots and costume they were enjoying a walking tour of the countryside. They were nearing the town of Braunau in the summer of nine- teen hundred. Below them were the tracks of the State Railway. Suddenly one of them pointed toa spot along the tracks. p ' Look! There's a dog lying on one of the rails! I The other tourist lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes and scanned the lContinued on page 221