London South Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (London, Ontario Canada)

Page 26 text:

Like Father By Grant Dorland, IVC. HE stadium was not large, but it was adequate. The crowd lined its steep walls like ants in a brown sugar-bowl. The band played stirring marches and the players hunched on the bench in their cowls, looking for all the world like pious monks. The sky was monotonously gray. Soon the linesmen and the referee and the umpire came on the field. Then one team lined up in a solid wall, and the other scattered well back toward their goal. The whistle shrilled and the ball spun end over end. lt ctxme down on the l5-yard line and a great hulk of a fellow caught it as you would a delicate baby. He zigzagged his way up-field until he was downed on the 40. The crowd was now standing and yelling itself hoarse. The teams lined up, nose to nose. The ball was snapped and the big fellow went through to the 48. On the next play the same player took the ball on a fake reverse and went through the line for six yards more and a first down. The big fellow was Iohnny Williams, star backfield man of the team. He had a way of lifting his knees high, like pistons, and a knack of getting his great bulk to move quickly in a few yards. Watching him intently were two men who sat high in the stands on the left side of the field. One was a short, ruddy-faced man with high cheek-bones. The other man was big, and had soft, sentimental eyes. lf you knew Iohnny, you would know this was Father. Every time his son carried the ball, Old Wil- liams swung and dodged with the boy. He squirmed and twisted in his seat. He half straight- armed the man who sat beside him. When Iohn Williams had double-tracked him- self to the ll-yard line, the other team called time out. Old Williams turned to his neighbour. lsn't he a pip'? he shouted. Isn't that kid of mine a honey? The little man grinned. He's there all right, he said. You oughta be right proud of him. You know, said Williams, I think that kid of mine is as good a football player as I ever was. I He watched his son wiggle through a deter- mined wall of men. Two seconds later he was 26 over for a touchdown and five points. The try for a convert was a failure. Old Williams rubbed his chin. Y' know something, Pete? Back in the days when we played on this team, they'd have called us sissies if we heaved the ball around like they do today. When you were quarter and l was playing halfback, we hugged that football and it was nothing if we came off the field with a busted nose or collarbone. Today the kids have suits of armour and the book is so full of rules that nobody knows what's legal. Ain't it the truth? sighed Pete. Those were the good old days. Old Williams watched the kick-off, which was returned far past middle field. He stood up to watch his boy chase the ball carrier down the field. lohn tried a flying tackle. But he merely scraped his man's ankles, and the touchdown was over. The place-kick was good and the score at half time was the same, 6-5 in favour of the opposition. The band stepped out and paraded down the field. Old Williams brought out a small flask and the two men drank to the boy's success. After intermission, they watched the teams line up again-and both admitted that, old as they were, they would probably half-kill these kids, if they were in the game. At the end of the third quarter the score was still 6-5. lohnny had limped to the bench after a pile-up in that quarter-but now, as the fourth quarter opened, he came prancing back on the field and reported to the referee. The mob in the stands screamed for a touch- down. Old Williams was full of good cheer and fair rye. The years melted from the old man's frame as he watched his son go places. The boy had renewed vigour now, and he found gaping holes in the line as he plunged through for gains. Now and then, others in the backfield carried the ball. But most of the heavy work was done by Iohnny. With four minutes to go, his team lost the ball on downs. The stands groaned. It looked to be all over now. But the opposition elected to gamble. tContinued on page 601

Page 25 text:

Yes, Sir, T1'lCl.t,S My Baby By Wilfred Dicks, VA HRIS CHRYSLER eagerly cmd impatiently paced the floor of his apartment. He was trying his utmost to control his feelings but his mind still thrilled with the news brought by a tele- gram which he had received a few short hours before. Everything settled Cstopl Am bringing papers Cstopl Will come direct to apart- ment Cstopl F. T. CHRYSLER. In a last effort to secure a position, Chris had applied to his uncle, Francis Theodore Chrysler, who was an executive in a large newspaper syn- dicate. The telegram indicated that his uncle had found an opening for him. Hurry Dureen! Chris called. The old boy will soon be here and he can't be kept waiting, you know. l'll get ready as soon as I get Francis Iunior settled down, replied his wife, from the bedroom, and then added, I'm sure your uncle will be flattered when he learns that we're going to name the baby after him. When he learns that, I'm as good as hired. l'll wager old Theodore will want to send him to Harvard. There's going to be no argument here, in- sisted Dureen firmly. My family was educated at Yale and my son is going to be educated at Yale. We shall see, said Chris, sheepishly. This conversation was interrupted suddenly as Francis Theodore Chrysler, Esquire, strode pompously into the room. Weill ejaculated Chris, I hardly expect . Oh, I know, I know! boomed the elder Chrys- ler. But I was sure you were home, so I thought I would surprise you. With business-like gusto, he started right off. Now, concerning this little matter about which you wrote to me: there is an opportunity for you . if 11'1... Pardon me, interrupted Chris, as he turned toward his young wife who entered the room at this point. Allow me to introduce Mrs. Chrysler to you. After the usual formalities, Chrysler, Senior, remarked in his gruff way that he would like to assist the young couple if he could, and he added, A good number of my relatives try to get around me by naming their babies after me. If there is one thing I hate it's babies, and least of all do I want them to be namesakes of mine! He became quite red as he impressed this fact upon them. As he was about to continue with the proposition, the whimpering of a baby broke fro'n the adjoining room. Wh-wha-what was that I heard? demanded Francis Theodore as his voice half cracked. Oh, er-that must have been the neighbour's baby across the hall, said Chris, and made a slight gesture toward his wife, who would have interrupted him. l'm sure I heard a baby in this apartment! exclaimed the old man, almost hysterically. Well, l'll tell you, said Chris, who was calmly trying to save the situation. The neigh- bours have gone away and left their little brat fcr us to take care of. At this remark, Dureen almost screamed, but with noticeable restraint she said, Pardon me. l'll go and try to quiet the little dear. As she left, the old man remarked, Humphl little dear .... Chris could see that there was trouble coming and he excused himself also. When he entered the bedroom his wife turned toward him in a rage and exclaimed in a low voice How dare you call your son a brat? You even disowned him, called him the neighbour's child. Chris Chrsyler, don't you ever lay your hands on this child again, l'll look after him. You'd rather have a good position than the love and respect of your child. Now, Dureen, be reasonable, said Chris. Give Molly the baby and have her take him out on the porch. We have a guest and we must attend to him. Dureen tried to control herself and finally compelled herself to call Molly. Now take good care of him and don't let him out of your sight, remonstrated Dureen as she returned to the living-room. Yas, Missus Chrysler, I sho will do dat, said Molly. In the living-room the situation was becoming darker. Frances Theodore resented being neglect- ed because of a neighbour's baby and was letting Chris know about it. In due course of time, how- ever, the conversation turned to his nepheW's future position. After a short discussion, Uncle Frances produced the papers. As Chris was about to sign them, the maid burst into the room. Oh, Mista Chris, Mista Chris, de baby am all gone. I done came in de house fo' a few minutes and when I goes back again de baby is gone, CContinued on page 783 25

Page 27 text:

Take Time To Read EyWi11iam O1msted,IIIC. Hround The World In Eleven Years By Patience, Richard and lohn Abbe HlS is an amusing autobiography written by three children who, after spending some ten years roaming around Europe, have come to America to make pictures in Hollywood for our future enjoyment. Their mother was Polly Platt, a stage actress. Their father is a photographer for many leading European and American newspapers. He con- tinually rushes from place to place and leaves his family to straggle along after him as best they can. The fortunes of the Abbes fluctuate like the stock quotations of Wall Street. One day they are very wealthy, living in a fine home, and the next they are out on the street without a penny. Patience, the eldest, is eleven years old, Iohn nine years and Richard seven. They are ex- tremely intelligent, witty children. They have attended school in America, Russia, France and Germany and speak several languages. They write their tale in a very frank and humorous manner, even telling of the frequent quarrels of their mother and father. Although most of their story is written with childlike simplicity, one wonders at the philosophy expressed here and there. During the course of their travels they have met many famous people, such as Lilian Gish, Adolph Hitler, President Roosevelt, Ronald Col- man, Stalin and hosts of others. They give their opinion of these famous folk quite frankly. The book has become one of the best sellers of the year. I certainly recommend it for entertaining reading. -Bill Olmsted, Ill C. Away To The Gaspe By Gordon Brinley F you are looking for a book that is interesting, humorous, and yet at the same time educa- tional, let me recommend Away to the Gaspef' Throughout the story, the author carries you in your imagination with The Duchess and Don in their faithful phaeton, Sally, on a summer vacation trip from the New England States to the Gaspe Peninsula. Many amusing incidents happen while the young couple are camping along the Way. One time Faithful Sally belies her nickname by leaving the Duchess and Don stranded, and the two are forced to bathe in alcohol and drink orange juice. On their trip they pass through all sorts of small villages, many of which are not well known, but your interest is keenly aroused in them by the Duchess' detailed history of them. Gordon Brinley has combined fiction and travel very successfully to make Away to the Gaspe- enjoyable reading. -Olive Eviscn, HIC. The Forbidden River By Harold Bindloss The Forbidden River! The very name sug- gests the mysterious glamour of this exciting West African tale, whose setting is the impene- trable jungles throbbing with the eerie beat of the hollow-sounding tom-toms. Frenzied lu-ju men and maniacal witch- leopards had instilled a cruel mortal fear into the hearts of superstitious bushmen, suddenly hold- ing the flow of trade to the white man's factory at the river mouth. A young, adventurous Englishman, wise in the ways of the jungle, undertakes, accompanied by the young nephew of the rich factory owner, the arduous task of opening up the tabooed river for the native's dugouts, which bring wealth to the white man in the form of palm-oil. Their encounters with the savage tribes of the fear-ridden bushland and the success of their thwarting of the cunningly set traps of the black men's attempts against their lives, form a contrast to the peaceful romance which finds its way even into the wilds of darkest Africa, to save the life of one adventurer and to be the foundation for the building of the fortunes of another. -Bill Nichols, Ill C. Gino Watkins By I. M. Scott Gino Watkins is the story of the young explorer, written by his closest friend and explor- ing companion. Although he was only in the middle of his twenties when he died, he had already made a name for himself which ranks with the explorers of all times. The story of the four Watkins expeditions, one to Labrador and three to the Arctic, is the story of exploring under great hardships. They were small expeditions and poorly financed, but the knowledge of the men, and the quality of their instruments, made up for it, and they have made many useful contributions to modern geographical knowledge. The book is very interesting throughout, and contains many photographs, maps and extracts from Gino Watkins' diary. In this book the reader is shown that the thrills and hardships of explora- tion did not cease with the advent of the steamship and the aeroplane. -Fred Chesharn, V B. 27