Indian Head Collegiate - Whisper Yearbook (Indian Head, Saskatchewan Canada)

Page 21 text:

THE WHISPER 19 The Collegiate Orchestra Len Faryon, Bud Lindsay, Roy Dillabaugh, Art Seaby, Allan Holden, Marv. Faryon, Ida Thomson The Parting As the graduating class of the Col¬ legiate we stand on the dividing line be¬ tween the retrospect of four years of common Collegiate associations and in¬ terests and a future of more varied na¬ ture. These four years carry with them cer¬ tain responsibilities. These yield a meas¬ ure of value from the standpoints of both present satisfaction and future value, directly proportional to the en¬ ergy put into them. The present satis¬ faction is in no small part due to the en¬ joyment of actual accomplishments as well as to the social features of the par¬ ticular activities. The future value is that responsibilities become as a con¬ sequence easier to assume after leaving the Collegiate, whether we enter pro¬ fessional, academic, or any other line of work. It is said that like greatness some are born with responsibility, some acquire of ihe Wags it and some have it thrust upon them. Whichever way be the case it must ex¬ ist to guarantee success and happiness. Looking toward the future, the march of events in Canada leaves us each year with more varied choices of a career and with more complex and specialized lines of activity to face. Changes in trans¬ portation, industry, politics, education, etc., have come quickly during the past decade. The qualities we develop in acting on committees, managing or otherwise supporting in any way activ¬ ities of athletic or social nature, cannot but leave one better prepared to face world realities in the years to come. “The tissues of life to be we weave with colors all our own, And in the field of destiny we reap as we have sown.” MR. TRECARTON Grade XII. Room Teacher

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EVA STEVENS. Making speeches 4 For land’s sake!’’ to be a teacher soap box orator MYRTLE SILVERTHORNE... Looking wise ‘‘Did you get your geometry?” to be a poet writer of limericks ISABELLA THOMSON . Making excuses “Cheerio” to get homework done hockey coach in Sahara Desert BILL WILSON. Playing with volts and amperes “Have you your French done?’ to have French sense to engineer electric washers 18 THE WHISPER

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20 THE WHISPER Chem-is-free Much to my sorrow, I once fell asleep in a Chemistry period. I was soon dreaming and strange to say, this is what I dreamt. It seemed to be about half past eight in the evening. I was alone in the Lab., working silently, when suddenly I was startled by a small voice from the chemical cupboard. Soon there were more voices ! I listened and overheard plans for an evening of fun. They finally chose a nit-ride in Xenon’s new car—so I decided I would follow them and find out what they are going to do. As many as were able climbed into the car with Nit-Rogen at the wheel. All went well until they came to a R.R. crossing, where they saw a train coming at it’s best nit-rate. Io-dide of fright, but the good Nit-Rogen saved them by stepping on the “separate particles, called molecules, which are in a state of rapid motion” and consequently beating the train by several millimetres. Not long after, Cal-Cium looked back and saw a copper coming on a monocycle. Fearing pursuit, and not liking his irony or ferrous-ity they speeded up. So did the copper—but when he was almost up to them, the car went—“Zinc”—into a mudhole about three feet wide. The back wheels sent a sheet of H-2-O and mud on the copper. Now his tungs-ten times louder and his words would turn blue litmus red, although they were base. Nit-Rogen was voted a poor driver so- Dium took his place. They speeded away into the night and finally managed to pass Winro. Several hours later they reached Qu’Appelle with the indicator of the eudiometer, on the dash, register¬ ing full speed ahead. Around the town they went and back to the road by which they had come, with the copper pursuing them as if they were a magnet and his beard iron filings. A few hours more at this rate, and they were again approaching Winro. “Knock, knock, knock,” was heard from the engine. “Ethyl can’t be working properly in the gasoline,” said Liquid Air, cool as a cucumber. The climax came when the car sud¬ denly stopped dead. The nut that held the steering wheel, and several of its companions, kept on going, however, and landed on a pile of soft coal. “Lucky this wasn’t hard coal,” said T.N.T. The cop¬ per arrived at this point, and shouted, “Halt! In the name of the law.” He rounded them up and lead them to the local guard house—although Nitro-Gly- cerine was almost bursting with indig¬ nation. The local J. P. was summoned at once. The first question our friends from the Lab were asked was, “who stole Mr. Tre- carton’s Chemistry book ?” “We didn’t steal it,” said Cal-Cium, “I saw it in the waste-paper basket.” They rose to go, but their accuser was not through, “I also charge you with speeding through this city. You were going thirteen miles per hr. and the limit is twelve.” “You lye,” said Al-Uminium, “prove it.” “Yes you were,” said the copper, “Smith’s dog couldn’t keep up to you.”- “Ten dollars and costs ; under Boyle’s Law,” said the J.P. A frantic search, of their pockets, brought forth some fools gold, German silver, nickel, and brass—the total value of which was thirty-nine cents. As the J.P. wanted no free boarders in town, he gave them one week in jail, suspended sentence, under Charles’ Law. They firmly resolved to escape all punishment so hastened back to the car. On the way they picked some flowers of sulphur and oxide daisies, remarking that they could be used as a peace offer¬ ing if they were late. The sun was just rising in the yeast as they reached the car. After a little persuading it agreed to take them home, providing it was given more gasoline : Kero-Sene was elected to go for the gas¬ oline. He was given the thirty-nine cents but hasn’t benzine since. “I hope nobody