Hamilton Collegiate Institute - Vox Lycei Yearbook (Hamilton, Ontario Canada)

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n wr cfs fr 1 -. -2- , F -'l . .,., ,, 0 , Z7 X ,ffl--ft, R s N-J ff' V 1 T' t A If IJ nk K! 57 Jia:-:5 V f I ff Z L7 'V --, 1 -5 ' Ar: 4 4 f 2 2 f ? ' - 7' 4 pa 4 i A 5' f 2 u ' f Y , Q ' A ' I . ' ? A 1 ,S 4 4 9 ' 1 f 'ff f 2 4 x ' 2 Q 2 4 A ? . , r f 4 Q W fl, 5 ' W M cCU1.LoCff THIS IS STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL Mr. Bill McCullough wishes to announce that he will no longer be responsible for any debts contracted by his wife, Mrs. Dun, nee Dodo de Graft. Miss Thora Mcllroyz Dear Thora,-You wish to know if the study of electricity is difficult. Ask Rouge He knows everything. Mr. Gordon Anderson: Yes, Cordon, it would be advisable for you to stop drinking coffee. Try cocoa for a change. Any good brand, such as -er- Cowan's, is recommended. Mr. Dave Robinson begs to announce to all his friends and female admirers that he was only acting in the Collegiate play, and that he is not married at all. Mr. Frank McKelvey: Dear Frank,-Some one wrote us to say that as a football player you would malie a good butcher. Of course we don't be- lieve this, butl Mr. Harry Townsend: Dear Harry,-We will take great pleas- ure in printing in our next issue your em- phatic denial that you are a specialist on complaints of the eyes, ears. etc., it you will lcinclly forward your written confirma- tion of same. Miss Margaret Hughson: Dear Peggy,-ln answer to your sweet little note aslcing us if we thought you acted the last scene naturally, we will say that you did seem to know a hull lot about your profession. Miss Rhena Mcllroy: Dear Rhena,-Replying to your recent inquiry regarding the care of the teeth, we would advise you to refrain from candy in all its insidious forms. Miss Grace Miller: Dear Little Gracie,-Your inquiry re- garding a choice of universities has reach- ed us. We would advise McGill or Queen's. but not MacDonald or McMaster, Miss Irene Morwiclc: Dear Rene,-We are very glad to know that you have received your second-class certificate in the Go-getem School of Vamping. Your suggestion re further practice has been turned over to Mr. john R. Mccillvray, who will no doubt communicate with you at once. Go to l'llLI..'S, 90 King St. West, for Kodaks.

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Ilastei' X' CD Ii Ig if Cf IE I 19121 ll ll A D HE DID - ll .. rm mi ' ' ill W1 By' H. Lightstone, He was just a little chap Like you'd nurse upon your lap, And the night was very dark and very dim, The moon, it wasn't out, And the ghosts were all about, And the dark clouds showed not even silv'ry rim: His little heart was stout, Although no moon was out, And the brightness of the starlight was all hid: Tho' his teeth, they chattered fast, He bravely said at last, l'm going through that churchyard, - and he did! The mountain rose up high, And it seemed to reach the sky, Room T-3, H.C.l. He looked up to the top, Determined not to stop, And though he sometimes stumbled, some- times slid, He went up, brave of heart, For he meant to do his part, And he said, l'l1 reach that summit, - and he didl He was not much more than boy, Hardly Fit for war's employ, But he had a heart that didn't know of fear: 1 A dispatch had to be sent one day, To the colonel, far away, And the captain said, Boy's, who will volunteer? The shots came from the foe, But he answered, Sir, l'll go. And the snow upon the top was gleaming He bravely volunteer'd, though not bid: white: He said, lf l am hit. He was very small and frail, I shall have done my bit: And his face was thin and pale, So l'm going to take that message, -and But the light within his eye was shining he dicll bright: AD REGINAM URBIUM 2 2 , 2 Q 5 00000000 0 00 OOOOOOOOOOOOGOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 00000 Prize Poem by Irene M. Cole, Room ll City of the Caesars, Whose mouldering ruins still proclaim Memories of those great emperors' reign: This arched gate-way perchance was sometime triumph of a Scipio, Whose helmeted head now is dust. And so Lifes ironies are manifest. Here is Trajan's column on its marble base, Proud monument to one of that mighty race: Thy Forum now is silent, 50 From whose sculptured rostra once was heard Eloquence by Fiery patriotism stirred: Thy crumbling colosseum Rises tier on tier, to Haunt its noble walls To our admiring gaze. And the yellow Tiber crawls O'er its rocky way caressing its banks, even as it crawlecl centuries before, Still remembering, while we forget, the majesty That was Rome.

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Easter V O X L Y U E I 1921 lj WHE OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS ill! :-: -- -- :-: :-:-1:-: :-: :-:a :-: Ross Lymburner AROLD JACKSON thought it hard luck that he should have to be on kick duty at the Ledger office on that Fine evening when The Ledger team clashed with The Times baseball nine. but it was Thursday, and every Thursday he had to stay in the business office from seven to ten in the evening to take care of complaints about the non-delivery of newspapers. Harold really belonged to the editorial department, where he had been office boy for nine months, and kick duty was extra work. Some day Harold hoped to be a reporter and he had already had the pleasure of seeing items which he had written, appear in print on several occa- sions. The Ledger was an evening paper, and so was The Times. As usual, the news- papers were keen rivals. There was a possibility that an extra might come out in the course of the next few days, for the great mine strike, which had almost para- lyzed all industries in Carbonville, stood some chance of being settled. Late that afternoon a conference between the mine owners and the labor leaders had opened in the neighboring town of Shafton, but it was not expected that much headway would be made for a day or so. lf they settle the strike it's certainly worth an extra, Harold had heard the managing editor say to the men on the reporter's staff. Better get down some copy reviewing what started the trouble. the loss in wages and business, and all that. , Harold had taken down the copy later in the day, and he knew that it was al- ready in type. waiting for word of the settlement to come from Shafton. A telegraph messenger came whistling into The Ledger office and tossed a mes- sage to Harold. How's 'kicks.' to-night, he asked, as Harold signed the delivery slip. Light, only five so far. The Ledger carriers are right on the job all the time. just like the telegraph boys. eh? grinned the other. So long, l've got to get down to The Times now-same mess- age, he added with a wink. We'll see that the 'same message' is, thought Harold. lt was an office rule at The Ledger that whoever received a busi- ness telegram must open it at once, and take it to the proper department. It was a Hash message of just three words: Strike settled. Compromise, and signed Bray. Bray was the reporter who was attend- ing the strike convention. He had rushed the bare facts of the big news, and was doubtless getting the details of the settle- ment, which he would telegraph later. It meant an extra--the best kind of an extra, too-one with good news. Harold knew the value of seconds in the case of getting out an extra. He jumped to the phone and called up the managing editor's house. This is The Ledger speaking. l want Mr. Burleson, please. Sorry, came the answer, but he's gone out for an auto ride and won't be back until eleven o'clock. Any message? No, thank you, It will be too late by that time. Harold then called up the city editor's home. Someone said that he had gone fishing. They do not answer, said Centrial, after repeated efforts to get the telegraph editor and the senior reporter. Most of the other members of the edi- torial staff, Harold knew, were at the base- ball game. It was impossible to get in touch with them. Precious minutes had already been lost. The telegraph boy had said: l've got the same message for The Times. It was a clear case of getting beaten on the big story of the year if he waited until he got in touch with one of