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

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EMPER Semrsnn 'PARA -rus N C U L. A A PARATUS ' ' big door. I'll give another meow, and open it. Then you'll quick grab the shafts, and pull the carriage out. We'll have to be quiet in the drive, but as soon as we get the old shay on the road, we'll go like wildfire. Geoff.- Good boy, Dick, count on me. Chorus- And me-and me-and me- The scene gradually shifts, and to my mind the flames present an old- fashioned dining-room. As in the former picture, people become part of the view, and I know them to be William Tassie, and his wife. He is read- ing a news journal while Mrs. Tassie clears the tea-table. She speaks. Mrs. Tassie- William. Mr. Tassie fstartingj- Yes, my dear, what is it ? Mrs. Tassie- Shall you be very busy this evening ? Mr. Tassie- Oh, yes, yes-I had forgotten-there are some exercises to mark. But why do you ask ? Mrs. Tassie- Oh, for no important reason, William. I thought we might take a drive, it is a beautiful night. Mr. Tassie- N ot now : I'm sorry, but to-morrow evening we shall go, if the weather is fine. But I must go to my study. tHe risesj. Mrs. Tassie- Before you go, William, please take the cat to the barn. He drank half the pan of cream I had in the cellar to-day, and I won't have him in the house another night. Mr. Tassie- Yes, I will take him : come pussf' tHe picks up Thomas, who is rubbing against his leg, and leaves the roomj. Again my imagination waves its wand, and the scene changes. I see a dozen boys laboriously pulling a huge carriage out of the Tassie driveway, and into the road. They rattle the cab off out of sight, 'and all is dark again. Now, mistily, a campfire circle appears. The same boys are standing about the blaze, and their chatter becomes more distinct as I watch. In the background I distinguish the outline of the Head's carriage. Dick fmopping his forehead with a huge handkerchiefj- Phew, many more pulls like that would about do me up-I'm tired. Fred- And ready to eat. Jim- Where's the stuff, Dick ? Dick- Here it is, in this bag. I brought lots of doughnuts, so we'l1 have something to travel home on. J im- I see, you want us to roll home. Dick- Oh, you're a doughnut. Harry fdolefullyj- I suppose the Head will whale us to-morrow. Len.- Good-night, forget it. Let's have our fun while we're at it- sufficient unto the day-here, Dick, I'm dying for a doughnut. Dick- Catch-what'll we sing? Joe.- Sweet Adeline-here she goes. fHe leads, and as the dough-I nuts are passd, they all sing-abandon becomes more joyous, and the song swells into a paean-suddenly a stentorian, but pleasant voice makes itself heard.j ' 30

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,I :al f in . . - 15.5,-pen 'M 'US A PARA -rvs A Voice- Good evening, boys. CImmediately silence reigns, then a low murmuring is heardj The Head l Oh. Where did he come from ? 'Now we'll get it. Is it really him ? I'd know his voice anywhere. fAs the Head, for it is indeed he, steps into the firelight, the boys, in mechanical deference, rise, and stand awe-strickenj. Mr. Tassie- Well, boys, I must thank you for the fine ride you have given me. The carriage was very comfortable, although I'm sure you must be rather wearied. As a sequel to this pleasant little adventure, I shall ask you to have the kindness to pull me home again. That will be sufficient punishment for the escapadef' CFor a moment no one moves or speaks. Then Dick steps forward, abashedi. Dick- But-please sir, If I may-ask a question, how did YOU get into the carriage-without our finding it out ? Mr. Tassie fwith a chucklej- Ask Thomas, my catg he knows! The vision fades-my fire is dead. fi The Hardened Heart By GEORGE MOSS N the settlement of the estate of Sylvester C- of Warwick, whose lawyer I was at the time of which I write, I stumbled upon the follow- ing manuscript. I consider the publication of these papers no breach of faith with my client, but I have, of necessity, altered the names, and completed the original notes where unintelligible abbreviations and gaps rendered such a course imperative 3 in all other respects the narrative is en- tirely unchanged. I firmly believe in the veracity of the strange incidents herein described, and set them forth for your edification, confident that such a widely travelled man and one of such undoubted sanity as C-, wrote in all truthfulness. Jan. 7, 1896. In the fall of '93, I entered into possession of a small fortune, left to me by a dear uncle, who had obligingly died, and set out on a world tour to seek adventure and to visit parts unknown. Undecided even as to the direction I should take, I mentally 'tossed a coin' and set out for Cairo. I had just come down from Cambridge, where I specialized in mineralogy, and with this unworldly knowledge, I set foot in the Near East. The globe, it has been said, is small, and this dictum now justified itself, for on being directed to my hotel, whom should I meet but Petrie Flinders, a student of archeology, also late of Cambridge. As I remembered him, he had among his other idiosyncrasies, a belief that the meaning of every phrase in the Bible was historically exactg a fact which up to this time had led me to avoid him. This pre-conception, however, was soon to be disturbed. It was not many days before I discovered the purpose of his presence in Cairo. At first he merely told me that he had strayed so far from his 31