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Page 55 text:
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THE REVIEW 35 Morton the Great ' Emi HWY T must have been some time in May that I first saw him, driving along the Outer Drive on his way to the Loop, Chicago's business section. He was at the wheel of his long, black Deusenberg with his chauffeur sitting beside him. I observed the car particularly, because I had gazed longingly at it through the show windows, a few weeks before, with all the breathless envy of the owner of a nineteen-thirty-two Chevrolet. As he waited for the lights to change, I had a fleeting glimpse of him. He was quite a powerful man, clean-shaven, well-dressed, and rather handsome in a florid sort of way. But what I noticed mostly about him was his mouth. It had a hard, cruel twist to it, as if he had obtained all he had by means of hard work and ruthless cunning. Somehow, it was not a mouth which one could easily forget, and, when I saw him again in very different circumstances, I recognized him immediately. Ik lk Ik lk if Pk lk lk wk Bk Two years later I was visiting a friend of mine at his modest summer cottage in the Magnetawan. The afternoon after I arrived I had taken a canoe, and was drifting slowly along the lake shore, when I noticed a large, weather-beaten wharf with three or four very pretentious boat-houses, which were, nevertheless, badly in need of paint. The path, which apparently led up to the house, was grown over with grass and bracken. The place was quite evidently deserted. Overcome by curiosity, I tied up my canoe and followed the winding path up the stone steps which led to the house. It was a huge, rambling place made entirely of stone. Through the broken shutters I could see that it was beautifully fur- nished, equipped with electricity, and plumbing, hardwood floors, Persian rugs, and rich hangings. I had noticed that the boathouse contained every kind of craft, ranging from high-powered launches to dinghys and canoes. That night, as we sat before the fire, I asked my friend about the place I had discovered. He laughed a little cynically, Oh, it's just the same Ik was at U-rwlQc'oY ef' his 'G' -Evelyn Coughlin old story. Man named Morton owns it. You remember the great Chicago financier? Made scads of money in 'twenty-eight and 'nine, and then when the crash came he lost every nickel. He used to come up here as a sort of retreat, to shoot, fish, and rest. I saw him only twice. I believe he's something of a fanatic. This seems to be the only thing he had, which the bank didn't seize . What's he doing now? I don't know. It's a wonder he didn't com- mit suicide like the rest of them. They say his wife left him as soon as the market began to slide, and then his two daughters deserted him. Poor fellow, it would be pretty awful to rise to the top right from the gutter and then to lose everything. I had heard this same type of story so often lately that I was losing interest. I asked idly, What's he look like? I've got a newspaper clipping around here somewhere, if I can only find it. His picture is beside the article. Oh, here it is! Hard looking brute, isn't he? The picture was slightly blurred, as all news- paper clippings are, but I recognized the man at a glance. It was the same man that I had seen two years before, driving the Deusenberg. For some reason or other, I refrained from telling my friend, and changed the subject hastily. The next morning, some strange fascination that the house next door held for me, led me to retrace my steps of the day before. As I rounded the curve in the path I noticed smoke issuing from the chimney. I wondered if a tramp could have broken in, and determined to investigate. The door opened in answer to my knock, and a tall, gaunt, dirty and ragged tramp with a three-days' growth of beard, appeared. His eyes were dark, with a hunted, wild look about them. His cheeks were pallid, and his cheek bones seemed to stand out in sharp relief, but his mouth was just the same. It had the same cruel, cynical twist to it, as if he had suffered and made others suffer. I'm sorry, Mr. Morton, I beg your pardon. I thought perhaps some tramp had-- The man bowed politely, and motioned me inside. Quite all right, my dear sir. I appreciate your interest. Won't you come in? Sorry, I can't offer you any breakfast. There isn't anything in the house. Haven't had anything myself for two days. He laughed hysterically. Funny, isn't it? The great J. M. Morton, Chicago financier, I Continued on page 85
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Page 54 text:
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THE REVIEW Centmlites at Temagami Members of our Party-Mr. David Carr, Bradley Walker George Schaef, Walter Shrives, jack Morgan Peter Shuttleworth THERE it lay before us-glittering in the open sunshine, reflecting the bluest sky imaginable, Lake Temagami. There was a thrill that always comes upon the materialization of a long-awaited event, and now our hopes and vivid expect- ations were unfolding and were coming true, even more beautifully than we had expected. That night was one I shall not easily forget. Perhaps it was the excitement of the first night out or it might have been the beauty of the northern lights, which held us spell- bound while they rose, shone, and faded. Their beauty was but momentary. Every second presented a new arrangement of illumination, while all this performance was refiected into the deep, silent majestic lake. After several days' paddling we reached one of the gems of the Temagami lakes, Red Squirrel. There we pitched our camp on the northern shore, beneath huge pines, which seemed to murmur and discuss with one another the forest's visitors. We could not have found a better place in which to rest, for not far off we found an excellent place for swimming, and the fish were quite abundant. It was at this camp that Mr. Carr secured some excellent photographs which will be fixed memories of that heavenly spot. We were quite aware of the fact that the weather was very changeable on Temagami, but not sufiiciently familiar to prevent what was about to happen. We had just started our evening meal when someone noticed that the sky had suddenly become overcast. Someone else drew our attention to a strange veil of mist which hid the distant hills. In a few moments a wind gathered strength to blow our plates and utensils some distance into the woods. The little lake started to heave and roll, and the large waves crashed on shore with an angry roar. In a few seconds the rain fell so heavily that our fire was snuifed out. The water ran in little rivulets down the hills and into our tents. The next sound we heard was someone shrieking Let me in, for heaven's sake! Between his convulsions of laughter we learned from Bradley that his and George's tent had been blown down- swept from over their unsuspecting bodies! George had sought shelter in the third tent while Brad had come to us. Inside of fifteen minutes, it was all over, the sun came out and the wind died as quickly as it had risen. We were now starting on a circle trip known as the Upper Okabika. We found ourselves soon gliding down a narrow and swift stream, made all the more hazardous by submerged logs and trunks of trees which had toppled into it. Later, we were delighted to come to its mouth and enter the upper end of Lake Okabika, which soon proved itself to be as picturesque and interesting as its name. We made a camp on a point which possessed a unique feature, for Temagami-a beach. Also on the point we found that an excellent camp site had been prepared by forest rangers, whose unoccupied cabin we discovered a short distance inland. Life was so enjoyable at this camp that nobody wanted to leave the next morning, which would have been the usual procedure. Therefore, we stayed for four days which were filled with interesting adventures, one of which was finding at the top of a high hill, a forest ranger's tower, from which we saw our course for a good morning's paddle. Fish were even more abundant here than on Red Squirrel. As food supplies were reaching a new.low, it was once more necessary to set out, this time towards home. In several days we were back in Temagami village, where we found our old camp site just as we had left it. The last day dawned. Yes, the holiday was really over, but the memories of early morning plunges, of camphres at night, and sleeping under the blue sky could not be removed from my mind. The memory of these was my only consolation. -Peter Shultleworth
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Page 56 text:
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36 THE REVIEW REMEMBRANOE N Nov. 9th the staff and students of Central paid a most impressive tribute to those former students who have made the supreme sacrifice during the Great War. Rev. J. E. Hugh- son, our guest speaker, offered the opening prayer which was followed by the singing of the hymn O God, Our Help in Ages Past. Mr. Hughson then delivered a stirring appeal for peace. He emphasized the fact that the soldiers in the last war did not rejoice when the Armistice was signed, because they had won, but because peace had . . . . EVELYN COUGHLIN settled over the world once more. The appropriate selection, In Flanders' Fields, was sung by Mr. Leon Adams, after which followed the reading of the roll of honour by Mr Gray. The Last Post was sounded and after a two-minute silence, the Reveille followed. Then to the strains of the Recessional the visitors, staff and students, filed past the tablet to pay a last note of respect to the fallen. The ceremony was carried out in perfect reverence, a Htting remembrance of Our Honoured Dead. A Moonlit Scene ' ' BillWyat1r. The 'waters darkened with mystic night, A canoe came wandering in and out, And a few stray moonbeams' silvery light, And followed all the shore about,- The waters danced and leaped for joy, A maiden's arms show'd gleaming white, And dashed against an anchor buoy. A paddle flashed in the silvery light. - Editors-Albert Goldberg and Alex. Smith 1. Red and Gray ..................... Canadian Academy, Kobe, Japan 2. The Parkd alian ...... ...... ........ Parkdale Collegiate Institute, Toronto 3. The Grumbleru. .. ............. ..... Kitclzeiner-Waterloo Collegiate and Vocational School 4. The Collegian .St. Thomas C. I., St. Thomas 5. Screech Owl .... Bowmanville High School 6. XVestward Ho' '................... . . l'Vestern Tech and Cornnzercial High, Toronto 7. Collegian ......... Stratford C. I., Stratford S. Lux Glebanau .,..,.... Glebe C. I., Ottawa 9. 'LHowler . . North Toronto Collegiate, Toronto 10. Oakwood Oracle . . .Oakwood C. I., Oakwood ll. The Echoes ...,........,..,....,.. Peterborough Collegiate and Vocal-iorzal School 12. Torch ...,...... .................. Town of illounl Royal High School, Quebec 13. ALulitorium ........... ............ Owen Sound C. V. I., Owen Sound 14. The Northland Echo .............. . North Bay C. I., North Bay 15 ' ' . Porcupine Quill . ................... . . . . Timmins H. and V. School, Timmins 16. Argosy ........... .................... Central High and Commerce, Hamilton 17. Northern Star .... ............ ......... St. .Ioseph's Academy, North Bay 18. Times .............. K.C.V.I., Kingston 19. Greenoch H.S. Magazine ....... ..... . Greenoch High School, Scotland 20. Tatler .......... .Lindsay C. I., Lindsay 21. Tecalogue .... L. T. and C. H. S., London 22. The Tatler ....... ................. Tillsonburg High School, Tillsonburg 23. The O.A.C. Review .O.A.C. College, Guelph 24. Christ College Register ............. Christ College, New Zealand 25. Campbellian ............ Campbell, Belfast 26. K , ....... Kelvin Technical H. S., Kelvin 27. The Year Book . . ....... ........ . .. Western Canada High School
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