Essex District High School - Argus Yearbook (Essex, Ontario Canada)

Page 24 text:

INDEPENDENT THINKING 15- John and Larry drove with prido down the street in the shiny rod car which John ' s father had just bought. ire you nervous, J hn? inquired Larry, It ' s something for jrour Old Man to let y:u have the car alone! Dad ' s never mean about anything like this; he trusts mo and I trust him! replied John. Although John did not appear to be nervous, ho actu¬ ally was. Look at those dames over there, exclaimed Larry. Honk the horn; maybo we can pick thorn up. I know the one in the shorts. Obligingly John hit the horn and pulled over to the curb. Tho two girls walked over to tho car. Hi, Larry, who ' s your cuto boyfriend? asked Carol Haney. Sho was the one that drew their attention because sho wore a very tight fitting sweater and very brief shorts. Oh, I am sorry. Carol Haney, this is J ;hn Zack, introduced Larry. And this is Lori Lane, replied Carol. Lori is from New York. This is her first trip to Carolina. Glad to know you b:th, retorted John. How about a ride? requested Carol. Sure enough, hop in, said a very eager Larry. The two girls got in tho car and they sped off d ' -wn tho road. Waving and honking t people they know, they passed through the city at a moderate spe d. When they reached tho open highway, Larry said, Step on it, Johnnie Bey, let ' s see how fast she ' ll go. No, thanks, said John, I don ' t want to get in any trouble the first time I ' ve got this car out. Well, I like that, commented Carol, ,: Wo comic for a joy ride and don ' t even get a thrill. If you don ' t like it, maybo I ' d bettor toko you back to town, retorted John. Maybe y u ' d bettor, said Carol in a nasty tone. J hn turnod the car around and drove back to town. He pulled up to the exact spot where he mot the girls. Here you are, ' Hot Rodders ' , joked John. Tho two girls got out of tho car, and. Larry followed them.

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Ik FASHIONS Since the beginning of time, men have scorned the fashions of women. Perhaps the first cave man reviled his 3pouse for her newest dress. Times have not ChangedJ Women ' s fashions are still as fluctuat¬ ing and laughable as everJ This is especially evident in their choice of summer and winter garb. In the heart of summer, the impractical women wear furs up to their ears and the thickest possible dresses. Eskimoes have nothing on these females I But wait until winter comesJ You haven ' t seen anything yet. It is now that our unpredictable females don their flimsiest, frilliest summer attire and promenade through snow-drifts up to their knees, wear¬ ing toeless nothings called shoes. However, lo t us loavc this distressing subject of vromen ' s dress and turn to the ever-practical men. As the sun pours its hottest rays upon the already scalding earth, our noble men disrobe (as much as is permissible) and absorb the health-giving radiance of ultra-violet rays. When snow begins to fly, our fine specimens of humanity don their wa.rmest apparel to brave the winter ' s icy blasts. May it never be said of a man; ho is as fickle as a womanj --Fred Sweet 11E PARAGRAPH WRITING t ' ' 1 FIRST HECK IN HOME EC. Richard Barkosky HE Is it really that bad, Mrs. Foster? , asks Miss Novice Homemaker, as the inglorious results o-f messy travail are put to the acid test. The answer is a definite positive ' , for a glance at Mrs. Foster ' s pain- curled countenance will soon scatter the remaining fragments- of hope so expressly evident in the young inventor ' s eyes. After all, the first effort at anything doos not always produce a glorious ' success, does it? No doubt our future recipe-trader will soon master the fine arts of making delicacies such .as Spanish chili-sauce, even though at present it has the appoarance of chopped up carrot-tops. The scene pictured here will undoubtedly be followed by one of gentle but firm advice, whici will improve the quality of the product while encouraging the learner to greater efforts.

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:, I njvor did like these quiet drivers,” said Larry, as he and the two girls walked away. John folt badly, but he realized it was better to lose a friend than, to lose the confidence of his father. —Mary Johnston 12A LOST , X have always experienced a very deep sense of pity for the child who suddenly realizes that ho is lost. In a single second, he changes a grSm-up venturer and a self-assured explorer, to a crying, fiiit-vri chi id All ir nm him, tho vcioes wlucli, such a Sx-. ru ti IStedMs ur iJy,” v taSrea.. his foar and ness. Panic-stricken, he begins to cry, and repeats ever and ever again, the one wo ' r ' d which t him symbolizes security, warmth, ®d hvt, . , »« lomS simply smile knowingly, while others rmtotopto the throes of thought, neither aware of, nor concerned about, the lest chll . Such a child appeared recently on the fourth floor of a well-known , t t s toro Thoroughly terrified, ho began to cry with gre t, heart-tearing sobs. Ho ' fSund himself surrounded by hurrying shoppers, SSd tired c rK. Tearfully, he 1 deed up at the towering fig es. Then sobbing wildly, ho began to run up and down tho al| or Mommy! Mommy! Whore are you? As he paused to listen kePffullj his mother ' s voice, his straining ears were greeted only with the voices S SS shoppers, annoyed sales girls, and tho shrill ring of a hun¬ dred cash registers. ]yp.ss! Oh Miss! ffiss, con 1 get this in a different colour? and as I was aayin ' , Kate, this movie was an old one with Clark Gable, you see, and then this girl come up to him ana Miss! I ' ve b oon waiting for five minutes! Yes, madam, - - madam. That will be a dollar-f ifty, madam. 1 a thousand voices pounded on his ears, as the little boy stood helplessly in the throng of Christmas shippers. ' Suddenly ho saw a flrurc familiar tc children everywhere. Joyfully, he trotted over to jovial-looking man clothed in brilliant rod. With his hope-filled, tear-stained face uplifted, ho tug ou at the man s coat. Yes, sonny. And what can Santa do for yon?--What-you haven ' t been crying, have you? That ' s no way to act at Christmas. I ' m lost, said the lad timidly, What ' s y ,ur name, lad? l r name ' s Butch Hondwicks, ' n I live at fivo-fifty-thwoo Carlton Dwivc.