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

Page 26 text:

17 . This last speech was uttered quite laboriously by Butch, who, like Tany other four—year olds, could not pronounce his 1, r | s . Santa chuckled wisely, and relayed this information with somewhat better pronunciation to the public-address announcer. Contented, Butch climbed up into the huge, red lap, and with a new note of important authority in his shrill voice, told Santa what he wanted for Christmas. He did not forget to add important directions to help the ' old gent ' find his way from the chimney to the Christmas tree. Suddenly, his face lit up as he 3aw his mother making her way to¬ ward him through the crowds of shoppers. Half laughing, half embarrassed, she thanked the ' merry old soul ' for caring for her youngster. With a reluctant Good-bye , Butch grasped his mother’s hand and skipped happily beside her. Now that he was safe once more, he was able to tell his mother of his exciting adventure. Much of his story was exaggerated, and parts of it were completely untrue. Can anyone blame Butch for such little lies? ks he told his mother, I reallv wasn ' t afraid, well--not much and anyhow--now I ' m not lost anymore. ' ' --Janet MacDonald 12C PROSPECTING FOR GOLD Why, Marjorie, exclaimed Mrs. Duncan, what do you mean? I mean exactly what I say, Mother. Now that I ' ve finally graduated I ' m not going to waste any more time.... Marjorie, interjected her mother, slightly scandalized, surely you don ' t consider your college education a waste of time? Please don ' t interrupt, Mother, countered the unruffled girl. The time for action has arrived. I am going prospecting for gold. The following day Marjorie firmly established herself in an apart¬ ment in the Big City. a.s she did not have to begin working in her Uncle ' s business concern until the next week, she was now able to settle do wn to serious prospecting. Peering curiously out of one of her tiny windows, she spied a tall, handsome gentleman ascending the steps of the apartment building. What luck. ' she murmured, wondering if he were the owner of the p; te Cadillac which was drawn up in splendid array on the opposite 3ide of the street. Putting on her most winsome smile she left her room and- hurried to the elevator. When she reached the main floor, she glanced hastily around her. i0 her delight she saw the form of the handsome young gentleman standing motionless bes de the door. Elated by her early success in finding such 7 n elegant specimen, she slowly, purposefully walked past the unsuspect¬ ing victim and entered a nearby telephone booth. There she placed a mythical call to Nowhere and talked animatedly for some time’to No One.

Page 25 text:

:, 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.

Page 27 text:

Then, leaving the phone booth, she let her white lace handkerchief, her initialled handkerchief, flutter carefully to the floor. This done, she, dreamily visualizing a handsome man, mink stoles, diamonds and Cadillacs, returned to her room. After about ten minutes had crawled by, she heard a hesitant knock at her door. There he stood, holding a white lace initialled handkerchie. in his hand. Before long they were chatting together as if they had known oach other all their lives. And what does your father do? inquired Marjorie in response to hi. ' last question. Oh, didn’t you know? He ’3 the janitor here. Marjorie swallowed hard but recovered her scattered wits quickly. How nice, she said, thinking pensively that she had discovered some¬ thing more valuable than mere gold. —Donna Barkosky FOREST FIRE Roaring flames, dense black smoke and showering sparks indicated only one thing, another forest had mot with its most deadly enemy-- fireJ A sky filled with more red and orange than that of the setting sun could be clearly distinguished for many a mile. The humanly unbear¬ able heat forced every living creature from its picturesque forost home. Animals of every size and description, from the smallest squirrel to the giant moose, rushed frantically dido by side toward the sanctuary of the river. Lashing tongues of fire leaped from tree to tree and devoured every¬ thing in their path. Delicate summer flowers, snow white lilies and velvety green moss lost all their heavenly beauty as the murderous flame: spread over them. An almost suffocating smoke replaced the tangy scent of pine which once had perfumed the forest. Sturdy old evergreens met their blazing enemy and were decisively defeated. A gentle but dangerous breeze from the south-west fanned the red- hot flames and caused them to soar into the smoke-filled sky. Bubbling riverlets, brimming with crystal-clear water, seemed to vanish mysteri¬ ously. Fiery, blistering heat changed the emerald vegetation into a deadly, shrunken, brown mass. Meanwhile, the attentive eyes of a forest ranger, who was posted at a desolute look-out station, spotted the rising column of black smoke. This sign of danger was much too familiar. The ranger knew that he had to act promptly, and so without a moment ' s hesitation, he graphically plotted the position and notified the efficient fire fighters. A once lonely forest path became a bustling hi iway less than an hour after the dreaded alarm had been sounded. Volunteers armed with shovels, axes and rakes, marched swiftly toward the disaster area, as they had done so often before. Those allies of the forest did not look forward to the days and nights of the troacherous toil which lay ahead.