Kingston Collegiate and Vocational Institute - Times Yearbook (Kingston, Ontario Canada)

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Qc KINGJTON- CSLTLECTLJIATE VOCATICDNALY INSTITUTE Q Goo, what's the snow like, Dr. Mills ? Well, it's soft and sticky and deep, Cathie, and you can dig in it like sand. And you can squeeze it into snowballs, and throw them. Wouldn't you like to do that, Cathie P The answer was rather disappointing. No. I only want to see it. The doctor tried again. And it gets on all the little branches of the trees, and makes them all sparkle and shine, And sometimes it melts, and then gets hard again, and turns into little pencils that you can see right through-only some- times the pencils are great big things, al- n'ost as big as you are, Cathief' Mr, Brian lVood thought they wouldn't have to be very big. Dr. Mills rose to go. You must keep her looking forward to seeing the snow, Mr. VVood. She is be- yond a doctor's care now. That hope of hers is the only thing that has a chance to save her. And Heaven grant that her hope may be fulfilledll' Mr. Brian Wood thanked the doctor, and tucked Cathie into her bed. He saw her sink into a peaceful sleep, then went to the window again. He stared out upon the cold, hard ground and the overhanging, leaden clouds, thinking the thoughts of one whose last reminder of what was to have been a happy family life is about to be taken away. Presently he turned, bent over the sleeping child, kissed her cold forehead, and went to bed himself. After hours of sleeplessness, he at last fell into troubled dreams from sheer fatigue. He awoke early the next morning, little rested. Weariness. however, dropped aside when he beheld outside the long-awaited covering of snow. It was just like Dr. Mills' picture. Each little twig was spark- ling with its soft burden of whiteness. How happy Cathie would be to see it! She would get well now--he knew it, he knew it! He tiptoed into her room at the front of the house, and found her lying peace- fully, gazing up at the ceiling in silence. Daddy, has it snowed yet F The same wistful, hopeful voicel Yes, Cathie. Thatls my big surprise for you. It snowed last night, while you were asleep !', Uh, Daddy! Let me see, quick! And then, in a lower tone, as if from far, far away I wonder what it looks like. Mr. Brian VVood picked up the little girl, kissed her lightly and took her to the window. Look, Cathief' He felt her take a long breath. She heaved a deep sigh--very deep for one so small-and breathed, Ohl Isn't it pretty ? Now, Cathie, don't you like the snow ? Mr. Brian Wood beamed with pleasure. She would get well! He knew it! Cathie's face was shining ecstatically. She closed her eyes drowsily, breathed again, It is so pretty! , and, laying her head on her father's shoulder, fell into a dreamless, endless sleep. wiv X i vfaf.,,. eb- if 'ic-xx .vxwiqxhg l P, . 1 XS, X :HX av' .Z 6:1 I . -' A NVARNING FINGER ..17..

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K Q Elf-Q 5 T, ' I akin. I E t leg-f llv x - -sibifs,-Q45 . PRIZE S TORIES S N 0 W CFirst Prize Senior Story-Allan Kent, SBJ Mr. Brian VVood was looking out of the upstairs window of his house. Everything looked so bleak and cold outside. He wish- ed it would snow. Six years ago his little daughter Cathie had come to take the place of his wife in this world. That had been in Bermuda. From birth Cathie had been an extremely delicate child. After six years of alternate improvement and failure, the doctor had recommended the cooler, clearer Canadian atmosphere as the only possible way to save her life. Now she was lying, peaceful but failing, on the little bed drawn up to the other window of the room. She had never seen the snow, and she did so want to. Dr. Mills had told Mr. Brian Wood that the fulfilment of this hope might bring back new vitality into the little wasted legs and arms and chest. And that was why Mr. Brian Wood wished it would snow. The doctor was coming at five-in about a quarter of an hour. Mr. Brian Wood wished the quarter-hour would pass quickly. Would Dr. Mills report Cathie's life as still on the wane? Certainly no one could take it more patiently and more calmly than she! He went over to her. Daddy, do you think it's going to snow this afternoon ?,' The plaintive voice was almost too much for the father. I hope so, Cathief' And, presently: Daddy, what does the snow look like? He had answered these same questions so very often. W'ell, Cathie, it comes down in Hakes, like little white feathers. And they all pile up and cover everything with a nice soft white blanket-softer and whiter and warm- er than the one you have on, Cathie. And then the sun comes out, and the snow all turns into water, and runs down the hills in little brooks. Goo, Daddy! I want to see the snow. Do you think it will come soon P And so back again to where they had started, With relief Mr. Brian Wood saw Dr. Mills' car draw up in front of the house. Why wouldn't it snow? Surely Heaven would grant just a little snow to save a little girl's life! The doctor came upstairs. Mr. Brian VV ood was glad to have someone else in the sick room with him. He watched the doc- tor's face as he bent over the patient, lis- tening to her heartbeats through his stethoscope. Dr. Mills turned slowly to him, and said in a low voice, The only thing that can save her now, Mr. Wood, is to keep within her the desire to live. Then he turned to the little girl. VV ell, Cathie, it's going to snow tonight 1 he began, when she interrupted with: 16-

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QC KINGJTCSN COLLEG-l-AT-E ' VQCATIQNAL uN.f'ru'ru're -9 ALL IN A DA Y'S WORK fFirst Prize Junior story-Eugene zavifz, 2133 VVhen the Steamer Falcon arrived in Fort William, on October 2, six days over- due, with her stack, rudder and life-boats missing from their proper places, with no barge towing behind, quite naturally she be- came an object of interest. The log-book did not record any of the heroism that had taken place on her storm- swept deck during the terrific gale that had held shipping storm-bound for five days. The mercury had been acting strangely when she left the Soo. Down went the barometer, and slowly the -thermometer rose. At approximately 49 miles from the Soo they had struck a gale of such violence that the waves were lifted by the angry wind and whipped bodily into the air. Even to experienced sailors, such as Captain Charles Lambert, the violent rise, lurch and fall of the vessel proved unnerv- ing. Fifteen minutes of this and the reliev- ing tack parted, leaving the rudder to the mercy of the waves. The barge in tow swayed and pitched crazily, plunging into a trough with a slack cable and then tightening it with a snap that threatened to part that two inch steel strand. We'll have to go about and get the men off the barge, before the cable parts, said the skipper. Call the engine room! Tell them to stand by because we will want plenty of speed shortlyf' he continu- ed, and smiled grimly. The telegraph tinkled stop , then slow astern. Get her stern up wind! he told the wheelsmain. The wheel spun over and slowly her stern swung round into the wind. Hard starboardf' shouted the captain as the telegraph jangled the answering full speed from the engine room. The ship swung round into the trough, and would 'not go further. There she lay, like a helpless creature, the waves crashing on her decks, It was a good thing she had battened hatches, thought the captain as he watched the water pouring over the decks. There's only one thing to do, said the skipper, turning to the mate. So here goes. He grasped the handles of the telegraph, and rang stop , then for the port engine full aheadn, for the starboard engine full astern. The ship staggered and gradually came about, her stern rising to the waves. One, two, three waves struck her stern. The 'phone rang. It was the engine-room calling. The mate turned from the 'phone his face white. The rudder is gone, sir! he informed the captain. Thought it would, muttered the skip- per grimly. Tell them we'll steer by the engines! Down swept the huge ship upon the barge. Towering above the barge, the Falcon bore down her tow. Ticklish busi- ness this, with a sea running twenty and thirty feet high. Collision meant almost certain death. Both engines went full astern. The ship trembled as the barge glanced the Falcon's bow. Sweat broke out on those who had seen the narrow margin with which they had escaped a head-on collision. The ship slowed down and then stopped. She lay rolling and plunging in the waves ten feet from the barge. Ten feet of death, it looked to the two men who were clinging to the barge's rail. How could they cross that space of raging water between the two plunging hulls. First mate Ed. Nicol, seeing the trouble, fought his way down from the wheel-house to the port side. Loosening the rope to the mast-head ladder he let it drop over the side some twenty feet. Lashing it to the rail and then slacking away altogether on rope, he Hung himself on the ladder. As the ship rolled to starboard he yelled- One at a time! Come on, Jim lu The man needed 'no second bidding, he swung himself across the intervening space and on board with the ease that comes from walking on slippery, heaving decks. CContinued on next pagej ...1-S..