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Page 14 text:
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War By Graeme Cameron VH W r There is calm, there is peace o'er the vineyards and fieldsg There are birds in the warm, bright skies. And the peasant his sickle and ploughshare wields As the soft Wind gently sighs. Then the War God his ugly rumor spreads Over the smiling land, l At its sound the peasant his sickle drops And a rifle is thrust in his hand. The heavens are torn with shrieking shells, And chaos and misery spread, The stricken fields are covered with The dying and the dead. The War God laughs with unholy glee At the havoc and carnage Wroughtg But an Angel stops the insensate spree And a treaty of peace is brought. There is calm, there is peace 0'er the barren fields, But the peasant is gone, and now Only a mound and a White cross stand Where once he drove his plough. I A Ill! , ,,-..... f' 'S ' -'Y' 2 ii
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Page 13 text:
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Athletics for Girls By MADGE THURLOW MACKLIN, B.A., MD. Assistant Professor of Embryology at University of Western Ontario Edito'r's Note: Special interest attaches to this article, not only from the fact that Dr. Macklin is i'nterna.tio11rLlly famous as an authority in her own highly specialized depaftmeiit, but also because she graciously accepted the position of one of our Honorary Presidents of the Girls' Athletic Association of this school. ESPITE the fact that girls' athletics have come to stay, there are a few who lament that girls' sports are unladylikeg that it is not wise for the female of the species to indulge in such rough pastimes as basketball, badminton or competitive games, because such sports make them mascu- line, are not good for their health, and cause changes which make their future role as mothers of the race more hazardous. There is no scientific evidence to back up these lamentations. As a matter of fact, the activity of the young girl of today has materially benefited her health, both mental and physical. ln the Victorian era, the young ladies learned as much as the feminine mind was supposed to be capable of understanding, and sat meekly inside the house, protecting their ladylike noses from sunshine and freckles, playing sentimental airs on the piano, or reading sentimental novels. They could not take a cross-country hike because the high heels and painfully pointed toes of their dainty boots were not fitted for such strenuous use. Nor were their tight-laced bodices, volumin- ous petticoats and panniered skirts, their lace fichus and their elaborate coiffures designed to allow the wearers to indulge in anything more strenuous than a bit of fan waving or a mild flirtation. The novels of that day frequently referred to the heroine swooning. This act she performed on any and all occasions: it was the ladylike thing to do. Girls do not faint so easily today: they have a healthier outlook on life, largely brought about by their participation in the healthful activi- ties formerly indulged in only by their brothers. Another statement, used often about the hero- ines of our grandmother's day, was that her gentle bosom heavedf' This was quite literal. lt had to heave if she expected to breathe, for she was so tightly laced that the only part of her which could move in respiration was her bosom. Ultra slender Waists and ultra large hips were fashionable as late as twenty-five years ago. I once had a Sunday school teacher who was the envy of all the girls in the church, because she 14 could hook her mink fur neckpiece, which fitted fairly snugly about her neck, around her attenuat- ed waist. Girls, dressed in that fashion, could not take part in any game: they could not get enough breath into their lungs to keep up any strenuous activity. Today, all that has changed and the size of girls' waists is as nature made them, and is not reduced through lacing to a measurement six or seven inches less. Nor can l imagine that the girls of the future will ever again submit them- selves to the torture of lacing. A second way in which athletics have helped, although not nearly to the same extent, is the inducement offered to girls to wear a type of shoe that more or less closely resembles the shape of a human foot, and that looks less like the shoe adapted to the bound foot of the ancient Chinese woman. Long, pointed shoes that crowded the toes on top of one another, which made bunions and corns, which spoiled the lovely shape of the normal human footy high heels which broke the arch, shortened the muscles of the back of the leg, threw the whole balance of the body out of alignment and caused all sorts of bodily aches and pains, these have been altered to conform more nearly to the shape of a foot. Much more needs to be done in that direction, however. But at least when she is taking gym. or playing tennis or soft ball, the modern maid has to wear a shoe that looks like a shoe and not like an ancient instrument of torture. Some girls are so enam- oured of leaving their feet in the mold in which God made them that they actually wear sensible shoes at all times. Freedom for a part of the time has made them freedom-conscious and they re- fuse to go back into a cage even to be stylish. In the medical texts of half a century ago was mentioned one of the diseases which girls were subject to, namely chlorotic anemia. Today we do not see this disease. Sufficient food and health- ful exercise have banished the chlorotic anemia of former years. True, the young girl of today, or at least some members of the species, manifests some type of hitherto undescribed anemia, since she finds it so necessary to use artificial colour- ing matter to restore the bloom on lip and cheek which a good game in the open air ought to supply. These are only a few of the ways in which modern athletics have helped the health of the modern maid. Last comes the benefit they have given to her mental health. I do not mean that playing games is going to keep her out of the mental hospitals, but the playing of games, tak- tContinued on page 683
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Page 15 text:
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When Santa Claus Was Late BY Ruth B1....-.8 C I have a story now to tell Which grieves me to relate, 'Tis all about that tragic year When Santa Claus was late. That year, as every year before, The little girls and boys Hung up their stockings by the fire Anticipating toys. In their warm beds, fond mothers tucked Their tots on Christmas Eve, Reminding them, in Santa Claus They always must believe. But girls and boys of ten and twelve fThat age of disbelievingj Said, No, there is no Santa Claus, No gifts we'll be receiving. I heard the children crying out, In saddest disappointment, And said, I will ask Santa why He kept not his appointment?,' I hopped into my aeroplane And speedily I flew To Santa's town, a1nid the snow, To see what I could do. No smoke was curling from the roof Of Santa's castle white, No welcome greeting came to meg No lights were gleaming bright. By the great log fire, inside the house, Sat Santa Claus a-sighing, No starry eyes, no twinkling smile, In fact, he had been crying. I went up to his side and said, You're sad, my friend, why is it? And why did you not come today To pay your yearly visit? Then, rising slowly, Santa said, I fear the children doubt me. The bigger ones all say they can Get on quite well without mea This year they did not send their mail, f Those letters that I treasurej, They did not send me their requests And notes that give me pleasure. So I was feeling very sad That they were so ungrateful, Ingratitude and lack of faith To me are quite distastefulf, I said, I know that children say Some things they do not feel. Yet in their hearts they know full well That Santa Claus is real. If you would verify my words, Come get your telescope And look upon the children now, So sad in their lost hope. He gazed upon the children there fThe ones that had been sleepingj, So disappointed and so sadg And most of them were weeping. Ah me, ah me! this agony! Whatever shall I do? To think that I have broken faith With those who love me true! Hi, gnomes and helpers every one, Hitch up my twelve reindeer. Pile up my sleigh right to the sky, Now hurry, do you hear? He turned to me and, laughing, said, You know, I have a date With half a million little tots, Although I may be late. I know that when they hear the bells A-jingling on my sleigh, They'll lift their heads and smile, and say That Santa's on his way. Now little children, one and all, I want you to remember, To write to Santa Claus and say You love him, this December.
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