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

Page 70 text:

36 SPECULA GALTONIA Scholarship Students , I J rj 2,211 . G- f.Cf.,4ff V' ' iv 'f JEAN BLAIR FREDERICK STAHLSCHMIDT MARION TAIT PORTER SCHOLARSHIP Frederick Stahlschmidt was awarded this scholarship, when he was chosen School Captain by the popular vote of the school. Fred, a resident of Preston, is a member of the graduating class of '29, rugby '27, '28, bas- ketball '28. , STAFF PLAYERS SCHOLARSHIP Marion Tait, Winner of this scholarship, emblematic of the Girl Cap- taincy, Was chosen to iill such a position by the Vote of the girls. Marion, also of Preston, is a member of the grad. class of '29, Lit. '28, Softball '28, '29. CARTER SCHOLARSHIP Jean Blair, from the graduating class of '28, Won the third Carter scholarship for general efliciency in the Upper School examinations. Miss Blair is, at present, attending Normal School.

Page 69 text:

SPECULA GALTONIA 35 gleaming-horses. At the gate of the little log cottage by the road, a rosy- cheeked little boy Che couldn't have been more than threej in a blue and white striped bathing-suit, was gleefully feeding a great, shaggy cinnamon bear, which squatted down on its haunches stood as high as a man. We crossed the Bow, twisting and turning in spirals of turquoise blue down the valley. Now we were on the main thoroughfare, meeting scarlet-shawled, wrinkled, old Indian women, with gaily decorated little stores on all sides and the big, circular rock garden in the centre of the broad road. In an atmosphere like that who can be blamed for doing foolish things. We entered a little store, the one with the most enticing exterior of all and found the interior to be equally attractive. For more than an hour we were completely oblivious to our surroundings while we picked out presents for the members of our families and our friends at home. For our brothers, first we-discarded intricately beaded doeskin moccasins for cowboy suits with fuzzy, swashbuckling trousers and in turn discarded those for dan- gerous looking bows and arrows. We hesitated, were lost and bought them all. We bought bright red and green and white Hudson Bay blankets, Indian needle-work, carved leather pictures. We bought and bought and bought and emerged into the sunshine, blinking and happy, but my happi- ness was not to last long for just then Kay exclaimed violently, Think of leaving all this sunshine and colour and fun in three days and going back to school and slaving for another year! Three days ! I looked furtively into my purse. It looked like a bar- gain sale. All I could see anywhere was ninety-eight cents. It was all very well talking of going home. I had my ticket. I could get there but I had to eat on the way and anybody knows how far ninety-eight cents goes on a train and we would be on it four days and nights. I supposed I might do without food, tell Kay I was train sick or something and nibble at my table napkin while she ate. In two months, however, I hadn't forgotten about nice, fresh, golden honey an' hot biscuits dis mahning, missief' and so I decided to telegraph instead. There was no time to waste so we hurried over to the ticket-ofiice and I began my record-breaking telegram. I thought it might be rather a shock to the nervous system of the family to receive anything as abrupt as Must eat stop send some cash stop. So I wrote out a nice apology, completely explained where my money had gone and said that I knew they would be glad to send me the required sum and how glad they would be to have me back CI found that out laterj and particularly how much I missed and needed them QI was realizing that very acutely at the momentj and reversed the charges. The next evening a money order was brought to my room. I was greatly relieved. Here was the money and not a word of reproach, not even a word. I arrived home, was greeted quite cordially, if not exactly with all the enthusiasm of parents welcoming home a beloved child, and then I went up- stairs to unpack and standing upon my dressing-table was what looked like a beautifully framed motto but on closer examination it looked not only like a huge telegram but also vaguely familiar. -I picked it up and scrawled across the front in exceedingly legible writing were these words. Why not telephone? It's cheaper! 'W

Page 71 text:

SPECULA GALTGNIA 37 Nature's Moods , By HAROLD DANDO The mists drawn upward to the morning light, Revealed a pleasing, peaceful sight, A heron gleaming greyish blue, Wondering what, this day, to do, Stood in the sedgy shallows of the lake, And with many a playful toss and shake, His feathers was preening. Around him floated lily-cups, pure and white, Glowing softly in the spreading light. In the east, the dainty, rosy hue Grew stronger, then changed to blue. Then over the treetops, for his time-honoured race, Sprang Phoebus, and on his broad, smiling face, A welcome was beaming. Then over the hills came the call of hounds, And over the ridge with weakening bounds Came a noble stag, gasping for breath. Then he turned to do battle to the death. Such was the stag's inevitable fate, For destined it was to come soon or late, And he met it defiantly. obs! Rambling By MARION TAIT 'HERE are two seasons which call a man's heart a-gypsying back through dim centuries to a primitive, uncivilized fellow-being roving carelessly through vast forests and broad plains quite animally alert to the joy of sun and wind and earth, and which for a few fleet seconds brush away the dust of years. It is not so very strange perhaps that these should be the seasons which signify to man the birth and the death of a year, because man is the highest embodiment of a life whose most import- ant factors are birth and death. Summer is life which is too floridly and perfectly beautiful to counsel searching of heart and wandering adown years-winter too absolutely devoid of life. It is when man stands reverently in the very presence of a year pul- sating into life or sinking into death that he may sense in moments that are an eternity perfect harmony between himself and the earth. Not that one can mark off an hour, a day or a month as apart from the discord of time, for the miracle never occurs at the same hour-may never occur- that miracle of transforming a man into a sweeping, surging, blind exulta- tion or an overwhelming, fathomless sorrow.