London Normal School - Spectrum Yearbook (London, Ontario Canada)

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First Impressions at Home and Abroad London Normal Sch OOl FROM southern Wharncliffe road we caught a fleeting glimpse of its stately tower. By the time our automobile reached Emery Street it had dis- appeared entirely. But as we turned the corner at Elmwood Avenue it sprang into view in its entirety, surrounded by spacious lawns and spreading trees. As we approached it first on that September morning the early autumn sunlight streamed down in golden splendour, making a glittering white way of the sidewalk by which we advanced toward the north entrance. Every blade of grass and leaf of shrub and tree qlistened as its dew-drenched surface caught the darting rays of light. Despite the splendid setting which Nature had provided, however, the building apoeared austere and forbidding. Instead of +he live green foliage of the lawn, we were confronted by the stiffly carved stone of the Roman arches of the entrance. It seemed to repel the brightness of the out-of- doors. Could there be anything to attract us within? With fast-beating hearts we mounted those cold grey steps. A bare white hall and more steps met our eyes; another hall, this time less bare and filled with other young people like ourselves, who quietly followed the crowd; down steps this time and — home! For the assembly hall immediately welcomed us. Some of the sunshine had permeated its very heart. It was reflected in the shining varnished seats. It was held by the brilliant whiteness of the newly scrubbed floor. It was caught in the shy smiles of young people who welcomed their new classmates. And, finally, it was expressed in the faces of the Staff as they filed down the long centre aisle and took their places on the platform. There was wel- come there, and the whole picture of Normal School life, as we have since found it, was revealed to us, that September morning, at our first Assembly. MARJORIE E. HAMIL o o o A Visit to Edinburgh A ULD REEKIE it is often familiarly called, ' Mrom the cloud of smoke which hangs over the low-lying parts, but it is magnificently situated on a group of hills and the valleys between. In the centre is a bold rock, crowned by the castle, and the ravine between it and the new town is covered with the gardens of Princes Street. On the southeast, rising majestically to 800 feet, is the Hill of Arthur ' s Seat. Here King Arthur is supposed to have watched the defeat of the Picts by his followers. To the north lies the Firth of Forth, and to the south, hill after hill curves against the surface. I must confess that I was a little disappointed when I stepped from the train. I had expected to catch my first glimpse of the city in much the same fashion as Waverly and his followers had caught theirs. This old romantic spot is now transformed into a modern metropolis! Years of science and invention have added a variety of beauty, however. The visitors of today may enjoy the glories of the past and present as thev sip tea in one of Princes Street ' s modern roof- narden cafes. Then they may drive through Old Fd inburqh and recall the Scottish History as the coachmen boast of the bravery of their forefathers. Canon Gate itself is a veritable tale of romance and traqedv. In the dirtv row of tenements we see the close where John Knox was born and Lady Stairs Close where Robert Bruce spent his first night with Jeanme Deans. One of those little shops is Lady Haque ' s poppy factory; another is Oueen Mary ' s antique shop. In St. Giles Cathedral we learn the story of old Jenme, who threw her stool at the dean when he attempted to impose a liturqy on the Covenanters. In Market Cross we think of the sad tale of Mary, Oueen of Scots, as we examine the place where she -nenf her last niqht. Our thouqhts then turn to S ' r Walter Scott at the sight of the building in vhich he first practiced law. Then we reach the old castle. No longer is it a defence anainst rebellinq clans and unfriendly ne qhbours. Monuments, buildings, a few old relics a ' ne, tell the old romantic story. As a Canadian student of History and a lover of the Scotch. I shall refer particularly to the Scot- tish National War Memorial. This building stands in the central part of the castle and was built at the expense of Scots of all ranks, at home and abroad. If is indeed a model of modern architec- ture and beaufy. The carved insignia which decorates the entrance arch to the Memorial is typical of that Modern Athens. This huge winged and flaming heart represents Love, Courage and Sacrifice, and bears these words: To the Glory of God, and In Memory of Scots Who Fell,, 1914- 191 8. NANCY SMART

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Jane Murray ' s Pull By MARGARET GRAY H MUST have a school! Jane Murray sat in the I office of the county inspector, her eyes fixed eagerly on the impassive countenance of the grey- haired man. All I can do, replied Mr. Thompson, the in- spector, is to give you a list of the vacancies. Jane sank back in a discouraged way. But what am I to do? I ' m just out of Normal School, I haven ' t any pull, and there are so few schools left! Lina Morris had no trouble getting a school because she knew all the Board members of Section 4. Marian Hastings had an aunt in Section 16 who convinced the Board that Marian was the only one for the position; but I haven ' t any relative to help me, and I haven ' t lived in the vicinity long enough to be acquainted with school boards. I haven ' t any pull at all. You ' ll just have to go out and apply for country schools, advised Mr. Thompson. I have applied for at least a dozen, replied Jane, but there are so few vacancies and so many applicants. If only I had a fairy godmother just now. On the way home Jane scanned the limited list. There was something about each one that made it seem useless to apply. Section 5 wanted an experi- enced teacher, and Section 12 preferred a man teacher. But, alas! Jane Murray was a slight girl weighing little more than one hundred pounds, and not very fall. Furthermore, it was a long trip out to Section 12 over rough roads, and Jane ' s father had no car. Suddenly she sat upright and determined. You ' ll never get anywhere, Jane Murray, unless you pull yourself together, she informed herself solemnly. Pull yourself together. You have that much pull, I hope. Reaching home, Jane ran to the pasture and caught faithful Old Patsy. It was not long until Jane was jogging down the road toward Section 12 in a rather rickety buggy, behind Patsy, a slow but dependable old horse. Travelling along Jane was calmly enjoying the mid-summer scenery, when suddenly at the foot of a very steep hill, Patsy stopped so short that Jane was almost thrown from the buggy. What ever is the matter, Patsy? queried Jane; then looking ahead she saw the trouble. The great planks of the bridge were splintered in two in the centre, making it impossible to cross. Now what am I to do? she frowned. Jane saw that it was useless to try and fix the bridge with boards because the hole was too large. Then an idea popped into her mind. ' ' Come, Patsy, old girl; good old horse, steady girl! encouraged Jane kindly, as she guided the horse from the road, down the shallow ditch to the border of the creek. We can drive through the water alright, Patsy; it doesn ' t look deep — come now, giddap! urged Jane. But the water was deep, and just as they reached the centre old Patsy almost lost her footing, and the swirling water swayed the buggy until it seemed certain that it would upset. Giddap, Patsy! Oh! Patsy, pull! Pull! called Jane frantically. The faithful old horse put forth a last desperate effort and pulled a very frightened Jane to a safe landing on the other side of the creek. Good horsie, brave Patsy, thanked Jane as she climbed from the buggy and stroked the panting animal ' s sides. Jane started once more on her way to Section 12, and within a few hours was nearing the school- house. It stood in bold relief against the background of a graceful hill, and as Jane watched the patch from a distance, her heart filled with longing to work in it as a teacher. As she curved around the hill, she saw narrow tongues of flame licking up the grass which covered the hillside. The season had been dry and the grass burned readily. Someone must be burning the meadow, thought Jane. She gazed uneasily at the fire, and s topping the horse, climbed out to investigate. The fire had almost reached the schoolyard fence. This must be an accidental blaze, she exclaimed suddenly. Jane ' s first panicky impulse was to try and put the fire out, but common sense told her she could not do it alone and the nearest farmhouse was a full mile away. If I could only ring the bell, she murmured, I believe I can. Driving the buggy alongside the schoolhouse she hastily jumped out and unfastened one of the reins from Patsy ' s harness. Then, stand- ing up in the buggy, she made a wide swing with the rein and succeeded in encircling the belfry. A moment later she was ringing the bell with all her might. Patsy stood calmly by, not alarmed by the bell, as she had become accustomed to the sound of bells in the cow pasture. Now, Jane commented, I can go and fight the fire; surely the people in the district will hear the bell and come to my assistance. She found a flat board and became so interested in the unequal battle with the flames that she did not heed the approach of cars. Three men arrived and Jane, seeing them, merely nodded. There was no time for words. Well, Miss, I think you did Section 12 quite a favor, remarked one of the men as he wiped his blackened brow. I hope I did myself a favor, too, replied Jane. I ' d like to teach the school. You aren ' t a Board member by any chance, are you? We ' re all three Board members, was the sur- prising reply. Oh! exclaimed Jane, how convenient that you are all here together. We sort of wanted a man teacher, said one. I ' m not very big, but I ' m healthy, declared Jane, and I ' m asking for the school on my own merits. I haven ' t any pull — Ha, ha! The way you rang that bell sounded as if you had quite a bit of pull! Say, how did you get here? exclaimed the doubtful member. The bridge on the lower road was broken by a threshing machine last night. (Continued on page 38)

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FIRST TERM LITERARY SOCIETY Back Row — M. Rock, S. Martin, M. Hamil, E. Arscott. Fronf Row--L. Doan, S. Harley ( Vice-Pres.) , Jack Mayberry (Pres.), Olive Smith (Sec), Doris Smith (Treas.) GLEE CLUB Executive— S. Liddle (Sec), M. Robertson (Pres.), Mr. C. E. Wheeler (Director), G. Kerr (Vice-Pres), B. Turnbu 1 ! and G. Shaw (Librarian).