Elmwood School - Samara Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

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Angela Chrislensen: She is little, but she is wise. She is a terror for her size. Angus and Gus are but two of the nicknames attached to our long-suffering Head Girl. She has been with us for eight years and since this year is the last, she is making the most of it in everj ' way. One of the three members of the sitting-room, Angus has an admirable knack of always reaching the comf ' iest chair first, where her hand immediately reaches for the radio and her eyes rise to Philip our pride and joy. Although she is a very social bird (the May Court Ball is one e idence of this) she has done a wonderful job in keeping the school in order and at the same time happy, besides getting good marks in all her subjects. So, beware, McGill! Angus is headed your way. Good luck, Angela! Wendy Hughson: Bom with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad. — Sabatirii Beef is back again with us this year as our senior prefect as well as head of Nightingale. Every Friday afternoon Beef is found dashing downtown in Frankie (that ' s her car) to procure something hastily that has been forgotten for pre- fects ' tea. Her weaknesses at present are brown bloomers and cookies. Beef has discovered that playing badminton and skiing all week-end don ' t exactly agree with the same muscles, and on Monday mornings during the winter continuous groan- ing was heard coming out of the sitting room. Beef has taken a full senior matric course this year, her only complaint in this connection being that when she has her only spare during the week, she can ' t get into the sitting room as it is occupied. Next year finds Wendy at Carleton College (she hopes!). Whether you are there or not, Wendy, we wish you the best of luck in the future. Deirdre CoUens: The past unsighed for, and the future sure. Dee is our only VI M member in the sitting room this year, as she sprang from the ranks of monitor to the position of Prefect and Head Boarder. You ' ll find her anywhere from behind a mountain of pictures, sorting them for the magazine; straightening the juniors ties in the morning; making out weekly pocket-money lists; to deafening people with the dinner bell. Dee is also a very accomplished actress; and this year you are apt to meet her in a passage, striding along, practising the part of Noah in the senior play. She leaves the rest of us gasping after exams as she has a wonderful knack of getting good marks with httle effort (apparently). This summer we wave good-bye to Dee on a missionary ship bound for Nigeria. We all wish her the very best of luck and hope she will be back with us next year, though we wonder if, by that time, her theme song won ' t be, Bongo, bongo, bongo .

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22 SAMARA for I didn ' t want to be caught eavesdropping. On my vay home, I asked mv self, What do I really know about the Lukaczes? I didn ' t know much; no one knew about the history of the Lukaczes because they didn ' t like to talk about themselves. All that was known was that they had moved here in the beginning of 1941, almost two years after the war had begun. What of Mr. Lukacz ' s sudden change to a German accent? Suddenly my mind flashed to a newspaper article I had read the night before. It had had the heading, Believe Nazi leader and wife hiding in Eng- land . The article told about a stern old Nazi army leader of approximately sixty years of age, with a scar on his left cheek. According to the newspaper he had escaped from a French prison camp; how it was not known. The article went on to tell that he had a wife of about the same age and that for two years no one had seen or heard of her. The couple had lived in Hungary before the war and had then moved to Germany. The description fitted the Lukaczes perfectly, except for the scar. But, wait a minute. Mr. Lukacz had a scar on one of his cheeks! Which cheek was it? Yes, it was the left! No, it couldn ' t be so. How could a gentle and sweet old woman like Mrs. Lukacz be mixed up in that kind of trouble? Yet I couldn ' t get the idea out of my mind. All this speculation had taken only a fe w seconds, and I was still only a few yards away from the shop. All of a sudden I heard what sounded like a terrible explosion. I turned around and was struck dumb with horror at the sight which greeted my eyes. The little shop was going up in flames! Screaming, I started running toward it. A hand held me back and though I struggled it was impossible to get free. Blackness came over me and the next thing I remember was waking up and finding myself in my own bed with my mother standing over me. What happened? I asked. My mother told me that I had been very lucky, for as soon as I came out of the shop, it had been bombed and had burst into flames. In a quiet voice she went on to tell me that the Lukaczes had not been saved but had died in the fire which followed the exp losion. I lay in bed thinking, and though I was sorry for Mrs. Lukacz I felt that maybe it was better that way. I was sure that Mr. Lukacz was the Nazi leader about whom I had read. Dying that way spared his wife the hardships through which she might have had to live. I wonder what the Germans would say if they knew they had killed one of their own people whom they needed. Of course, I might be wrong in assuming that Mr. Lukacz was a Nazi. It doesn ' t make any difference now, for the Man Who Never Smiled never again had the opportunity not to smile. Bf.tsy Alf.xandor, V A Keller Despair This crazy poem will never rhyme, Although I ' m at it all the time. The proper words I cannot find, They just ignore my brilliant mind. Never try to be too clever, Don ' t try writing poems— no never. Your self assurance slowly goes. Take this advice from one who kno -s! The silly moral of this story, Isn ' t one of fame or glory. Don ' t go writing verse that ' s funny, You ' ll end with neither brains nor money! Wf.ndy Quain, V C Keller

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1 Peggy Edwards: Better late than never, and better dead than late. Mumbles , one of our glamorous debs, maunders her way through our life, but VI Upper is indebted to her for pulling us through French classes with well-timed oui ' s , the hidden meaning of which only she and Mademoiselle share. I guess we will all be ardent fans watching Peggy ' s tennis this summer, — she has a charge account at the Rockcliffe Tennis Club now. We don ' t see too much of Aiumbles in classes, as she shuns our profound science and maths classes to excel at music, with which she enthralls us. Alake ready the crimson carpet, Carleton, — Mumbles is heading for you next year. Carol Maclaren ; You must wake and call me early, Call me early, mother mine. The school-bell r ' mgs at ten to nine. ' Carol, the most phlegmatic member of VI Upper, is not too keen about school work, but never fails her exams. Her am- bition in life is to find the keys to the car, but maybe it ' s just as well she can ' t find them as we heard of her appearance in court a while back. Carol always leaves her mascots in our books; Bugs or Destry have a warm place in her heart. She has an uncanny memory for movie scripts but we wonder if James Stewart lias anything to do with it. Next year, Carol is hoping to go to university in the United States. Wo. hope our good neighbours realize they are getting a girl with a potential wealth of knowledge. Good luck, Carol! Elizaheth Palerson: sports she excels, in beauty as tvell; An all-round pal, ive think she ' s swell. Libby is our Sports Captain again this year. On Tuesdays and T hursdays wc can find her tearing around getting girls assembled for games. She carries the responsibility of this task extremely weW. The star of the gym class, Libby also skis, plays tennis, and is, in our opinion, a crack swimmer and diver — her ambition being to do three somersaults in the air. It is easy to see why she won the bar to her physical training medal last year. Her likes are: saiUng, Florida, Queen ' s University, Scotland, Nellie Letcher and Gregory Peck. Her good nature is never lacking, even on the dullest of days. She is, indeed, everj ' body ' s friend. Libby hopes to follow in her sister ' s foot- steps at Queens ' next year. After the astounding number of eleven years at Elmwood, her sunny smile and cheerful nature will be sorciv missed. It is our loss, but it is Queens ' gain.