Galt Collegiate Institute and Vocational School - Specula Galtonia Yearbook (Galt, Ontario Canada)

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SPECULA GALTONIA 31 Al.ost Letter By MARGARET MCCALLUM ANDY was a nondescript little dog-no, that's not quite fair to Sandy, who was inordinately proud of his red-brown coat, even if it was some- what patchy in places-the result of numerous and fiercely contested battles. Sandy would be a nondescript little animal if it were not for his eccentric coat and the two little devils which lurked in his mischievous red- brown eyes. Have you heard that dogs are divided into two classes-oh yes, just as are human beings, and cars, and cakes, and ever so many things--two classes, Good and Bad. Sandy was classed as a Bad dog-poor little fellow -he couldn't help it-he knew nothing about phsychology at all, so, of course, he couldn't be expected to know that if you start in time you can overcome any inherited traits of character. He didn't know this so he was quite happy-no, that statement, too, will have to be examined-he was not quite happy. No little dog who is classed with the Bad dogs can be Good for a whole week, and be happy. For one whole week he had not upset one single garbage can for the sheer joy the clanging of tin on pavement gave him, he had not chewed any shoes, that was the hardest of all, for Sandy's overdeveloped imagination constructed timid harmless shoes into unspeakable horrors, and became fiercely joyful in tearing them to pieces, violently throwing himself from side to side as he gave his enemies the deserved punishment, he had not brought any other Bad dogs of the neighborhood to his yard to play, he had not, most miraculous of all, buried any of the luscious bones in the midst of a freshly interred flower-bed, in short, Sandy had been a model dog, because he had just been the lady's property for a week and he wished very much to please her-he was a Present and even little dogs know that presents are 1ovely--exciting-surprising, but never disappointing. Now here is where the story begins-yes, there is a story, all because Sandy, a Bad dog tried to be Good for a week. The strain was just be- ginning to show-and it appeared in the shape of a nasty, ragged temper. As soon as Sandy came into the room he hated the Man-he was mak- ing the lady look so red and sorry-and angry. Sandy didn't think-he leaped, and clenched little, pointed teeth in the Man's leg, and was fiercely exultant when the Man shrieked, but then the lady did an inexplicable thing--she turned her wrath on valiant Sandy, and cuffed his little ears, shoving him roughly out of the room. Sandy was very much hurt-his feelings you know-for Sandy was a very sensitive dog indeed, and such injustice, when he had been protecting his mistress, was somewhat un- warranted in his opinion. It rankled in his usually sunny nature, and for two hours Sandy sulked-that's another trait of a Bad dog. Much later Sandy s rusty head peered tentatively around the door of the room where his humiliation had occurred. The Lady was very much upset to-day, thought he-and wished, with a vindictive show of teeth, that he could make the Man shriek again. The Lady was looking for some- thingg she was asking, in a panic-stricken voice, if anyone had seen a letter on her desk-oh some one must have seen a letter-where was it-it

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30 SPECULA GALTONIA Mary Jane sails proudly in wearing her new dress. J unior- Well, well, look what's barging in like a house aflre. What's the big idea, going to a masquerade ? - Mary Jane, with dignity- Jun-i-or, this is a very exclusive model. Junior- Exclusive is right! nobody else would want it. Mary Jane, dropping her grown-up air- What do fresh kids know about clothes, anyway ? Mother, looking up from her long-division- So this is the dress you paid so much for ? Junior- Goshl with that little belt up there she looks like a sack tied about three-quarters of the way to the top! Mother- Juniorl how many times must I tell you not to use that word. Just the same, Mary Jane, I must say I like the long waists better. Junior-- Say, Mum, do I have to go out with her looking like that. What a mess I Mother- Junior, be quiet! It's not so bad as that. ' Mary Jane, fiercely-- So bad as that! I like that. J unior- You never were so much to look at but you did have pretty good looking legs and now you'Ve gone and covered 'em up. What is there left ? Mother- Junior, I am surprised at you, noticing such things at your age. What will you be when you get to be your father's age ? Father, after patiently trying to make some sense out of the paper during this uproar. Here, here, what's all this racket about? Can't a man read his paper in peace without these children eternally scrapping. fLook- ing at Mary Janej Why the funny get up ? Mother- I thought she was old enough to choose her own clothes and use some judgment, but I see- Mary Jane, violently bursting out- I think you are all perfectly hor- rid. You don't know a striking dress when you have one before your eyesg fwarming to her themel just because men wear the same old clothes for ever and ever, is that any reason why I should be a conservative old stick- in-the-mud. J unior- Aw go on, pipe down l Mother- Children, children, that is no way to talk to each other. Just the same, Mary J ane- Mary Jane- There you go again, scold me some more as if I haven't enough to bear having a saucy imp like that for a brother. I never do any- thing right. If anybody says another word I'll scream, I'll- Junior sticks out his tongue. She takes a step forward and trips on her dress. Junior, with glee- Pick up thy skirt and walk. Mary Jane flies from the room blinded by tears and choking with anger- Junior, after a moment's reflection-- Say, Mum. Mother- Yes dear ? J unior- I got to thank long skirts for something. Mother- What dear ? J unior- For once in my life I had the last word with a woman.

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32 SPECULA GALTONIA couldn't be posted-it just couldn't-was there any way of opening a post- box ? Sandy's little mind had grasped the word letter -why anyone should want that little piece of paper with the green square in the corner, was outside his powers of reasoning-but if the return of the letter would re- instate him in the affections of the Lady, then it was a good thing-a very good thing-that, instead of tearing it all up, he had buried the unmolested, part. ' A gleaming auburn streak upset two spindle-legged chairs on the highly polished floor-raced down the hall, frantically fanning the air with his forepaws as he slid on one of those ridiculous little carpets they had here and there on the floor-was precipitated down the front steps-eager- ly ruined the flower bed and the surrounding walk with huge gusts of fly- ing earth-ah, at last! The little dog pranced in so jauntily, so hopefully, with a disreputalrle piece of pulpy paper between his jaws-his eyes portrayed so many emo- tions-showed his yearning to be friendly-to be a Good dog-no one could scold him-and he had the letter. The Lady's sigh of relief showed he had done the right thing, and her cooing words told him he was forgiven every- thing--even the mud he had in his haste brought in. All this just lgecause he had brought back a letter. Human beings are very queer Sandy mused, as he neatly man- oeuvered a new and luscious bone. fir! The Stream of Life By ISABEL GOURLAY Life is like a silvery stream Along a forest glade, With swaying trees on either bank And coolness in their shade. The water-lilies glistening white Are loving thoughts and true, While roses, wild along the edge The kindly things you do. The snags one always finds about Are chances to do wrong, But steering straight we miss their blows And pass them with a song. The stream of life has bends and turns And dreaming lures us far, Until at last the waters end Beyond the shining bar.