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

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STUDENT ACTIVITIES First Term Literary Society WE are nearing that period of the school year which is devoted to reflection concerning the events of the past year. Among the most prominent of these are the weekly meetings of the Literary So- ciety. The reason for this prominence is due, likely, to the fact that the hurried moments of preparation as well as the breathless period of expectancy im- mediately before the parting of the curtains have become indelibly printed in the memories of the students. The records of our meetings will go down in the annals as meetings of clever originality and unusual talent. To whom are we indebted for the idea of thematically arranged programmes? To him will go many of the compliments we have re- ceived for our entertaining programmes. When we reflect on the succession of meetings, a glittering array of literary productions pass before our mind ' s eye. We review the programmes dedi- cated to Home, Life in Foreign Lands, the New Year. Who will forget the epic production of The Highwayman ? With the mere mention of this extravaganza we visualize a bevy of dark-haired Besses and gallant guardsmen — and the intelligentsia tore its hair in anguish. Two impressive ceremonies were presented, one in honour of Armistice Day, the other in commemoration of the death of our late King — two ceremonies which bespoke a deep national love and pride. A group of aspiring Thespians entertained the critic teachers one eventful evening with the play, The Dear Departed. This social evening loomed large on the programme of events for the Literary Society (as you doubtless decided at the reading of the treasurer ' s report). The meetings catered to the most fastidious tastes. They were flavoured with the choicest of spices — sage readings and peppery debates (recall the debate on the advisability of Inter-Normal Meets). But all tastes differ. My favourite flavours will not appeal to you. However, like me, you will have memories of delectable treats. JACK MAYBERRY o o o Second Term Literary Society AND then a new secretary called the roll and a new pianist brought forth the strains of O Canada from the auditorium piano, for the second term Literary executive had taken its place. Form I. men, unawed by it all, presented an amateur hour and then, because the highest form of competiti on is with one ' s self, they surpassed their own effort and gave us the play Montcalm. Form II., with the aid of much green paper and its innate Irish guickness, directed our St. Patrick ' s Day celebrations, while Form III., a few weeks later, donned borrowed hats to present the Easter Parade. In the interval, Mr. Humphries took us through the Prairie Provinces and Mr. Burr and Mr. May- berry proved conclusively that the entrance of women into business and professional life has not really helped society. Form IV. served hash rather attractively at the end of April. The last of the forms (in number only) paid tribute to our great Kipling. A party, followed by a surprise program con- ducted by a traveller from an antique land, in the person of Miss Stewart of Victoria Hospital, and the second term executive, regretfully closed the last meeting feeling as A. A. Milne ' s John would put it that that was that. GERTRUDE JONES, President. o o o Glee Club ' ' V HEREVER there is good music there is har- W mony. Wherever there is harmony there are good citizens. Through what more beautiful medium can we attain our ultimate goal, to mould good citizens of those who, in years to come, will grow under our guidance? As active members of the Glee Club, not only have we spent many happy, carefree hours, but we have, in truth, learned much to help us present good music in a proper way to our pupils. Under the supervision of Mr. Wheeler, F.C.C.O., our very capable and patient leader, we have met each Tuesday afternoon at four o ' clock in the auditorium. Splendid training received in this musical workshop has enabled us to assist with music on the evening set aside for entertaining our critic teachers and at a special meeting of the General Science Club. Several singing groups ar- ranged in our Glee Club have also contributed much to programs in the school. The complex activities of this school year have, on some occasions, limited the number of members in attendance at our meetings, but, on the whole, we have enjoyed a happy, prosperous year with the Glee Club. May its followers be as successful! MARGARET ROBERTSON Pag

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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).

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THUMB-NAIL SKETCHES The Night Before, THE clock strikes midnight as the boarding-house mistress enters her silent house and gropes her way through the ebony shadows to the room in the south-east corner, where the rays from a study lamp gleam through the half-open door. In a justly irritable mood she peers into the room. It is one of perfect disorder. A half-painted bird house is perched at a precarious angle on a corner shelf. Various-hued paint cans provide a harmonious background, and several dry, stubby brushes cluster around. A gallery of pictures arranged in zig-zag columns covers the bed. A flagstone walk of refer- ence books stretches from the bookcase to the table. Two tiny spots of painted table top stand out like miniature islands in the great sea of foolscap, note paper, erasers, pencils and ink bottles. Bits of crumpled paper overflow the waste paper basket and cascade over its sides to the floor. Over this storm-riven table a figure, the victim of the band of Morpheus, slumps, and thunder-like nasal sounds break the pre-storm stillness. Behold! A Normal Student ' s room on a Tuesday or Wednesday night! MARGARET GRAY Nature in the Spring AS I stood motionless beside the old rail fence, under the blue vault of the heavens, I beheld Nature in its awakening joyousness as it may be seen any bright morning of the Eastertide. Ahead stretched the broad expanse of rolling meadow with the brown of Winter giving place to the green of Spring. A saucy brown groundhog, standing at the entrance to his burrow in a grassy knoll, sur- veyed the human intruder with keen interest. To the right was a grassy field in which gambolled three gray muscular jack-rabbits in a wanton mood. One, straying away from the rest, came in my direction, but stopped at least fifteen feet from me, straightened himself erect, sniffed the air, and bounded off toward his fellows. A dusty brown bird on agile wing soared past, calling with shrill note, Kildeer, Kildeer. Turning around, I looked upon the swale with its growth of willows and sumac in the moist, black earth. From the stagnant pool the frogs, in full Pandean chorus, struck up the notes of their ode to the Spring and trilled it as only these amphibian musicians can. From the topmost bough of a tall, slender elm came the chromatic notes of the crow as he cawed his welcome to the Spring. Far off, from the distance, came the tinkle of a bell which signified that the cows had been let into the pasture and that Spring had arrived at last. MARGARET L. SWANTON Grandmother ' s Sideboard I T was a massive thing — the old sideboard which ' stood at the end of Grandmother ' s dining-room. But then it had to be massive to hold all Grand- mother ' s precious dishes. Its animated oak carvings told a story that wound down through the ages as they coiled around the sturdy framework. In the centre of the marble top was a small mirror which had probably seen many faces, but which now bore the reflection of a symbolic tea service, black with disuse. On either side were cracked but none the iess beautiful vases, which appeared to be empty but which on closer examination revealed countless clippings and knick-knacks. Yes, indeed, it was a veritable storehouse, but its panelled doors hid from the casual observer Grandmother ' s cherished possessions. None but the bearer of a key could explore those hidden recesses, stacked high with pottery — cracked and chipped — yes, but to Grandmother every crack and chip brought back a flood of memories. MARGARET RIDDELL Master Jimmy I F you take a walk down Hyde Street, just after I school is called, you will see Master Jimmy scurrying along the sidewalk with a tricycle. He watches the school windows with his sharp brown eyes. If no face appears, he hurries round the corner to the grocery store. His chubby fingers grip his sides as he chuckles to himself, My, those are nice bananas in the window. The store door is open and no one is in sight. He scrambles over the counter and takes so much time selecting the best banana that the storekeeper surprises him in the act. At first the storekeeper looks angrily at this marauder with brown hair, iarge ears and a pug nose. But Jimmy ' s innocent and cunning smile causes him to laugh. He picks up the little scamp, and sets him on the floor. Then, in monkey language, Jimmy heart- ily thanks him for the banana. GLADYS LYONS