Glebe Collegiate Institute - Lux Glebana Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

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UX GLEBANACXQQ QAQQALERE FLAMMAM l if l if ir vt 1 ,I qfllffoon 15' qjlylnpfiony 1r111s'1' 11111212 ' 'A' Silver trees all batloed in mooizligbt, Rustliizg, glimmering-g Eerie zeplayrs tloro' them qiiifveiiizg, Si glaiizg, shimmering. Iefwel-like stars set iii the night l Glittering, tfwiizklingg Bands of moonlight on the lake TiVide1zi1zg', fwiiizleliizg. Pine trees softly moaiziizg, sighing, Grieving that the night is dying. by HELEN M. FAIRBAIRN, SA if sl 28 ls

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UX GLEBANAGXQQQ HIS FACE WAS OU,RIC A FOOL, Bill , said Stephen, placidly watching the smoke of his cigar curl mistily upward. VVhy don't you quit that busi- ness? Photographers model! Why, it's been ages since we've been down for a swim together. You canlt go ski-ing-you can't go out when there,s moisture in the air- all because you have the perfect head of hair. It isn't decent, Bill-it isn't manly ! CC The cause of this burst of rhetoric was a slim, well-featured young man in the early twenties. His hair was black, curly and luxuriant. Care- fully groomed, it surmounted a clean-cut, youthful face. His chin was determined, and his eyes held a gleam that bespoke ambition. They were sitting together, Stephen I-Iayeock and Bill Lester, two life-long friends, in the former's study. Stephen was a short, thick-set chap with beetling brows and whimsieally lined eyes. The older of the two, he had taken it upon himself to give the other some advice. It's no use, Steve , replied Bill, quietly. '4Heaven knows, I've waited long enough for a job and now that I've found this, I wonlt give it up just because you think it's sissifiedf' Last night , broke in Steve, testily, I saw your picture in a magazine-'Scalpo Hair Tonic made my hair what it is to-day!7 Why, you know as well as I do that you never used the stuff ! Every time I pose for a picture like that I get ten dollars, Steve , said Bill, impressively. What if I do have to give up a few games and parties? If my hair is my bread and butter- .l'm going to look after it. I'm taking out insur- ance on it in the morningn, he continued, with I1 broadening smile as he watched the look of disgust on Steve's face. I suppose you wouldn't care to join me in a little fishing to-morrow? I've got the old shack all fixed upw, said Steve, difiidently. Sorry, Steve , said Bill, regretfully, but thatis too dangerous. My hair would dry out in that air, and besides, I've an appointment with the photographer to do some shots'for the Slapstick Hair Oil Co. to-morrow at four. So long, old man. Sorry you canlt see my way of thinking. QSPALERE FLAMMAM HIS FORTUNE Wx lvmlllllff gf ' 'I- ,ww Wm ff ,Z X 1 1 I fgfyfwggwfxx ,y l XJQQS JOHN LAPP 5.3 of ses, - ' -' , 'gf' of 7'-' It ff fl rw 1' if K ny, L V I 0 in ,ii ,ji hu.. W . Qi -,I .. lf- , M lf' gn, 4 ,.., ui A ,Q iffy, , -t - :,- f - f?Q4 Blf4BX3557 ' Wfle', fix f' . 1, - N., -Q-xv Jr. 'LGood-night , said Steve, gloomily, as he watched Bill go briskly off. It might be imagined from the above dialogue that Bill lacked ambition, and was content to remain in his rather undignined position. Bill, however, simply considered his present job a stepping-stone to higher things. His ambition was to be a commercial artist and he considered his present work a possible means of attaining his goal. He had submitted several layouts to Gregory, the chief of the Art Department of the Acme Advertising Agency and was waiting eagerly for the result. In another part of the city, a more residential section, unknown to himself, Bill was being discussed. Father , said the disturbingly beautiful girl, to a disturbingly ugly old man whom, much against our will, we must take for her father, Who is this young man you have posing for the Scalpo ad.? I think he's just too cute. By these words the young lady intended to convey that she considered the young man very hand' some. Oh, that's young Lester, I believe , said her father, rather irritably. Ratoff picked him up somewhere and he has him posing for all the Hair Tonic ads. Oh, by the way, Sylvia, look over these layouts for me-they're by that same young fellow-W lConIinucd on Page 60 427k

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UX GLEBANACH9 QAHDALERE FLAMMAM OUR GOVERNOR GENERAL oHN BUCHAN has a new home. His new household is Rideau Hall at the en- trance to Rockcliffe Park, Ottawa. His life has been changed by an act of the King, just as in days of 'Yore' when the King exiled his enemies to foreign lands. Before he was given the title of Lord Tweeds- muir, there seemed to be no constitutional reason why he should not occupy his Royal oflice as plain John Buchan. True, it is not usual for commoners to have a Sovereign's escort of cavalry at a public function. ln a few instances in which they have done so, they usually have been knights, rather than esquires. Still, there is no constitutional point involved to say 'no'. But other than constitutional con- siderations hedge about the crimson carpet. The Governor Generalship is Canada's badge of membership in the world-wide British sys- tem, and that system still bears the imprint of the caste that built it. Thus when once in a while, commoners have been raised to Vice- Regal honours, it has been the rule to first raise them to peerage. john Buchan chose the title of Tweedsmuir, taking the name from a small parish whose heights command a wide view of his native moorlands. alt is not blood that the Buchans have in their veins, but ink , someone once said of this very literary family. The appointment of such a man to the second greatest of the Vice-Regal posts has been not only unprecedented but even sensationally so. Some literary men are prone to stutter, and stammer when they leave their cloistered seclusion, and their speedy return to seclusion is a matter of simple humanitarianism both to themselves and their audiences. But Lord Tweedsmuir is that, ram avis , a man whom heaven has endowed with a golden pen, and a golden tongue. He may be defined as the man who has made the 'thriller industry' respectable. His greatest fiction success was written to beat the American 'dime novel', and for the last sixteen years he has turned out a thriller-a-year with clock-like regularity. He carries three of them in his head, and writes them down as he can. Some, in fact, have been written in the train while travelling between London and Oxford, his Q2 WILLIAM FREEMAN 1-M home in England. He works at top speed, writing them all out in a legible longhand, and turning the pages over to his secretaries, or perhaps relays of secretaries. Although some of his novels are intended for the hammock and the train, there are others, particularly the historical novels, which it is impossible to read without becoming aware of his learning which must have shaped them. But his finest, and most scholarly workmanship has gone into history and biography. His life of Oliver Cromwell, published in IQ34, ranks as one of the standard lives of the fProtector'. His life of Sir Walter Scott has taken rank next to the vast seven-volume life by Scott's son-in-law, J. G. Lockhart. His life of the Marquis of Montrose is a notable picture of one of the most controversial figures in Scottish history. His war service with Lloyd George, as director of information for the Allies, resulted in his adventure stories in the Hannay trilogy, The Thirty-Nine Steps, Greenmantle, and Mr. Standfast, his four-volume history of the War, which came out in 1921 and 1922 was an immense project carried out with the accuracy and sound judgment that characterizes all his more serious work, and still ranks as one of the foremost general histories of the war. His latest book published in England under the title of The King's Gracen, was a Silver jubilee book, and from the publishers' point of view its success has been no less noteworthy, in fact it was the most popular of his more than fifty books. To set forth the unique constitu- tional status of the British crown and to relate to it the tremendous events of the reign of the late King George called for tact, dignity, and management. ln Buchanis handling it was a beautiful and lucid piece of work, and it is typical of him that it was written in four months, time, mainly at week-ends . We have talked of his books-a long task in itself-but we have missed his early life, a still longer task. Being a member of Parliament when he left England, one can well imagine the type of education that he has. He was a private lCon1inued on Page 31 Qlt