Isaac Newton High School - Newtonian Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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18 THE NEWTONIAN “Yes, I will come, I am old and worn and can lose nothing- Do thou but lead; I follow.” Thus was Aldanis taken into the future—Stanhope’s present. He was shown aeroplanes, telephones, radio, television, he could see and speak to men hundreds of miles distant. He was shown a history book with reference to a certain magician, Aldanis, who had been burnt at the stake for telling the people stories of a visit into the future. He was shown a flashlight and he was so interested in it that he kept it to take back with him into the past. “With this as proof,” he thought, “I will convince my people that I have gone into the future. I will tell them of battles to come and shall be hailed as a prophet. They will not kill me, and I shall defeat Destiny. Now, take me back to my own time,” he eagerly asked. He was taken back to his time, and Stanhope departed for further ad¬ ventures. Immediately Aldanis travelled to to the King’s Court and revealed what had happened. He showed his flashlight and the King was afraid. “He is a wizard, burn him at the stake and break his rod that turns night into day,” he cried, for he saw that if Aldanis once convinced the people, his own princely power would go. So poor Aldanis was burnt at the stake; he had not defeated human destiny! But what of Professor Stanhope; he had gone back and told the people of, his adventures into the past. But they laughed and said it was only an illusion. Then he pushed a lever over to the left and vanished into the future. Of his further adventures, no one ever knew. Did they deserve to know? Finis. The First Sons of Canada (Anne Jurens) We are accustomed to think of the Indian as the personification of all that is vile. He is spoken of as mean, cruel, revengeful, as one who has nothing to recommend him, whose every characteristic is opposed to civiliza¬ tion and humanity. But after all there is something to be said on his side. The Indians were once sole lords of the whole land and then they were different from what they are now. It is true that they were fierce and war¬ like, cruel and revengeful; but they were simple and honest, staunch in their friendships and firm in their sense of honour. It is their contact with civilization that has warped their natural charac¬ teristics; and the white man is largely responsible for the condition of the noble red man. The free son of the plains has been taught the vices of the white man. much to his disadvantage. The following story will serve to illustrate the point of a red man’s sense of honor and friendship. A chief belonging to a tribe, friendly to the whites, had settled with his daughter near one of the frontier forts. The commander of the fort and his family gi ' ew to have a high regard for the dignified red man, and this feeling was fully reciprocated by the ducky warrior. But the peaceful tribe suddenly rose, and began a series of depredations and murders. The troops were called out to subdue them. The commander summoned the friendly chief and his daughter to him and was surprised to see the chief appear in full war-paint. Without waiting to be questioned, the Indian announced his departure. “My people are on the war-path. They are foolish, and will be slaugh¬ tered; but they are my people and they call me. I go to join them. I am sad at heart, for I must war against my white friends. The white man will conquer and I shall die, and so farewell!” This was the last they saw of him. He was true to his people and for their cause, died. His words proved prophetic for today the Indian is rapidly vanishing from the land of his forefathers.

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THE NEWTONIAN 17 The Mad Sorcerer (Bennie Cramer, XIB—First Prize) “I tell you, I can prove my words!” shouted Professor Stanhope. The scene was the huge Hall of Science at the Century of Progress, World’s Fair, in 2034 A.D. The speaker was a grey-haired, keen-looking man close on 50. His brilliant grey eyes were gleaming- with anger as he shouted at the laughing crowd before him. The Professor stood beside a queer-looking machine, the object of his life’s work. It was shaped like a ball, plated with a shiny metal that nobody had ever seen before. It was about 10 feet in diameter and had an observa¬ tion window at the side as well as in the floor. A tiny door led into the interior. The inside of the machine was padded. There were two seats to hold passengers; the instrument board was covered with glistening dials; at one end there was a switchboard controlling the speed. In the centre of the board was an “anno-meter” divided into centuries and all the while ticking off the years of time. Zero marked the present moment; to the right of zero were the centuries of the past, and the left divided those of the never- ending future. One of the curious spectators suddenly asked, “Do you mean to call that thing a “Time Ship” which can go into the future?” Professor Stanhope’s eyes blazed—“Yes!” he cried, “with my Time Ship I can conquer time, and not only can I go into the future but into the past as well!” The people thought he was a crazed fanatic. Was not the thing he was suggesting impossible? “How can you go back into the past? The events are over and cannot be recalled,” yelled someone in the crowd. “I will prove the truth now,” shouted the professor as he leaped into the Time Ship. He pressed a lever, there was a rush of air, and the people were left looking at nothing. The Time Ship had gone! The Time Ship was travelling through a world of mist. Stanhope could see nothing about him. At any minute he might be killed. Then—suddenly the Ship stopped with a jar that threw him out of his seat. He arose a little dazed, opened the door and stepped out. The Time Ship stood near a forest. To Stanhope the place was familiar but he could not recall where he had seen it before. A little way off he could see the outline of a gaunt mediaeval castle standing out stark and bare in a world of desolation. He left the Ship where it was, as there seemed to be nobody about, and advanced towards the castle. The structure was crumbling and in ruins. Only in one place did il seem solid and to this the professor wended his way. He entered, and per¬ ceived in front of him an old man poring over a huge volume. The man looked up, and then continued his reading. “Who are you,” asked Prof. Stanhope, “and what is this place?” “My name is Aldanis, sometimes called the Mad Sorcerer by the people, but I be but a humble dabbler in the sciences of medicine and alchemy. I dwell here alone and my eyes have not gazed upon human face for three years. Verily this be the year 1539 of our Grace, and King Henry doth rule over Merrie Englande. But who art thou? And from whence comest thou?” The Professor’s eyes were alight with triumph, he had succeeded in going into the past! But how was he to convince this man of the truth of his story. However, he would try. He began boldly: “The tale I am about to tell you, Aldanis, will sound mad, but I have proof to verify it. You look like a clever man and I think you will under¬ stand me. I have come from your future into your present. Ten minutes ago I was living four hundred years after your death. I invented a machine whereby I could get back into the past and have come back to King Heni’y’s time; if you will come with me I will show you things that will amaze you— 1 will show you what happened to King Henry, and who was King after he «ied. Come, you will be a prophet, and not only that, but I will show you how you died four hundred years ago, or rather how your death will come about. Will you follow me?” The alchemist was amazed and intrigued; he had seen visions of the future, with men flying like birds, and here was his chance to discover if he had visualized aright.

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THE NEWTONIAN 19 In the Dark (Sam Donen, Room 14.) It was night time outside. In the house the lights were not on and therefore it was dark in there too. The burglar’s eyes shone with delight (how- come) when he sized up the situation. He crept stealthily up the back steps and tried the door. No need for tools here. The door was already open. Quietly he entered. “What a haul there would be,” he reflected. First he tried the kitchen. Nothing there. In the dining room a few odd silver spoons and forks met his gaze, but he was not interested. Cutlery was not in his line. The living room, a bedroom, and other rooms also were barren of worthwhile results. What if this were a set-up after all. Certainly what ha viewed so far was not at all encouraging. He went on searching, but it was hopeless. There was nothing for him, there. No use staying now. Just as stealthily as he had entered he left, cursing his luck all the while. When he got far enough away from the scene of the attempted robbery he raised his head to the moon and uttered this one word: “Meow”. (Which translated means, bah.) On Eating Spina ch (Bella Bedder, Room 8, Gr. XI.) Spinach is a great food! It has earned money for thousands of boys and girls. In making this statement, I do not mean the money is earned by them in the production of spinach. It is quite a known fact that a devoted father or mother will pay their beloved child, who otherwise does what he or she is told, at times, a nickel or a dime, depending on the generosity or wealth of the doting parents, for every helping of spinach that he or she will eat. Why is it that those beautiful green luscious leaves that would make the mouth of a horse or cow, water, are so distasteful to many people? But it must be remembered that we are neither horses nor cows. Delicious grass is spinach, that poor abused food which is scorned by nine-tenths of the popu¬ lace and hailed with delight by the remaining tenth. Spinach causes trouble the world over. When Junior refuses to eat his share of the health-giving food, which is recommended by the biggest doctors and prize-fighters, he is often spanked, and sometimes paid—in money, cash, not credit. More often a loving father who abhores spinach is forced, by his wife, to set an example to their child, and has to eat a goodly portion of spinach to encourage the child to eat it. Why is it that there were so many strong and brave men, or at least history says that they were strong and brave, who had never eaten spinach, tasted it, or as much as ever seen or heard of it ? I am sure 1 Samson was not raised on it. Well, all I can say is, that spinach was appropriated by this modern race to deprive some poor animals of food which is rightly theirs, and also to; cause people to squabble over it, to talk about it and to cause such people as I to write about it. MY ENDEAVOR I have no desire to be wise Or know an awful lot. For things like ginger ale or pies I do not care a jot. All pomp and pelf do I despise, I ne’er will want a yacht. To me all fame means less than naught, I think it tommy rot. But every article I prize, And all that I have got, I’d give to do an exercise Without one single blot. R. H. Grant, Room 4.