Lowe High School - Towers Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

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40 The Windsor-Walkerville Technical School Year Book machines, although he really thought I was too young for the position. Too bad he didn’t say so before he started dictating, thought I. A few days later, I went to an¬ other office. That was better than the others had been. All went well until the manager suddenly re¬ marked “Of course, there’s consid¬ erable book-keeping to be done. Do you think you would have any trou- ble with the books?” There was a tense silence as be¬ fore me floated a picture—a pict¬ ure of an exasperated teacher handing back my exam, paper mar¬ ked with a huge, red 38%. As plain¬ ly as if she-had been there before me, 1 heard her say: “I really did¬ n’t think it could be possible for one person to make so many mistakes in Book-keeping until I saw your paper”. Well, I did the only thing left for me to do. I grabbed my hat and beat a hasty retreat. By this time, I had quite decided that I wouldn’t be a stenographer after all. In fact, I had almost de¬ cided to take in floors to scrub in¬ stead. Then suddenly, I was called to an office and given a position with¬ out even asking for it. The shock was terrible. I was so dazed that I put a street car ticket in the box at the ferry and handed my gloves to the street car con¬ ductor. ELECTA McDADE -o- CLASS PROPHECY—1927 Graduates of ' Twenty-seven, hearken to a humble sage, Who will tell you what your fort¬ unes are to be; I have peered into the future, and have read each secret page, And have witnessed all that fate has to decree. Now I tell of one who will be great, upon the bright lit stage; Her name and fame will echo far and wide, In operas and Shakespeare’s plays she will be the rage. Tech remembers Lorna Batzold, with great pride. And now I know you’d like to hear the fate of Ken Gillett; He tried to be a cowboy way out west. But when the cattle saw him, they just laughed themselves to deat ' o So the boss said, “Go back east am. take a rest”. I saw a lady speaking to a vast ami mighty throng, And what she said created quite a stir; “Us women want our rights,” she cried. The crowd cheered loud and long; When I saw that it was Gladys Kerr. There’s a jolly little fellow, all dressed up as Santa Claus, And he rings a bell to those who pass him by; You can tell without much trouble, that it’s Donald Lord, because You can see the merry twinkle in his eye. I can see the perfect hostess of the future, serving tea, To a group that have upon her come to call; Fern Knight just knows that cal¬ ories are very sure to please; For hubby seemed to mind them not at all. Political fame is coming to our old friend Samuel Marks; He will talk and laugh his way ’till he is great. Ah, no, I’m very sorry, but I’ve made some wrong remarks; Sam will only be mayor of Ford, sad to relate.

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The Windsor-Walkerville Technical School Year Book 45 fourth year was the best then, I know this fourth year will be even better. I am sure that you will do all in your power to uphold the name of your school. You will want to be the best school in the Dominion and I hope you will soon accomplish this end. With kind remembrances to my loyal teachers and ex-students, I now bring my narrative to a close. Yours for every success, FRASER GRENVILLE. -o- THE ADVENTURES OF A GRADUATE 1 left school last year with high hopes and great ambitions. In fact I quite intended to take the world by storm—but the world took me by storm instead. Thinking about getting a position is very simple, I found, but the actual “getting” is a job in itself. The first one was easy enough, but one day the firm’s money gave out, and that was the end of my first job. Then the fun began. One day I started out to an office to apply for a position. “It’s only a few min¬ utes ride on the car” I was told, and so off I went. I gaily jumped on a street car and told the con¬ ductor to yell when he came to my stop. A few minutes passed—then a few mere. Half an hour passed and still the conductor hadn’t said a word. Ten minutes more crawled by at a snail’s pace and I was sti ' l sitting on the street car. By this time, I was beginning to get excit¬ ed. So was the street car. Tn fact it got so excited it jumped right off the track and there it stayed for hours it seemed. Finally we started off again, and nearly an hour later the conductor ushered me off at my stop. But it wasn’t so simple as that. No indeed! The next question was, which way to walk to reach the number I was looking for. It was a lovely dist¬ rict—Oh yes! I really couldn’t decide whether lo walk in one of the junk shops, one of the Chinese Laundries, or one of the restaurants with the funny printing (which I couldn’t read) on the door, to inquire. So, to settle the matter I marched up to a man who was doing gymnast¬ ics on the street car track with a crow-bar. He looked up with a fer¬ ocious expression and told me (in his own language of course) some¬ thing which I took to mean “Mind your own business’. Therefore, I found it advisable to move on with¬ out further questions. Quite natur¬ ally of course, I moved in the wrong direction, and after stroll¬ ing along a few blocks, I discov¬ ered my mistake and strolled in the other direction. But before I reach¬ ed my destination, the street ended abruptly (a blind street I guess it is called) three times, and each time I had to wander around until I found where it started again. Well, I did get there finally— just three and a half hours after I had started—only to find that they wanted a girl between thirty and thirty-five. So that was that! Another time I was sent by someone to interview a man in Windsor. That wasn’t so bad—un¬ til he decided he would dictate three letters to me. So he handed me a note-book and an inch-and- one-half pencil and began. And such letters! About six hundred words a minute—and the words! For the first time in my life I wished I had memorized Mr. Web¬ ster’s dictionary. When he had finished dictating, he remarked that I might trans¬ cribe my notes on one of the girls’

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The Windsor-Walkerville Technical School Year Book 47 Just si ■]? inside this airy gym., and see the classes there; They are swinging clubs, and play¬ ing basketball. Their instructor is a pippin, Miss Dumsday, if you please; But you’d never know her now, she’s grown so tall. Here’s a bonny kilted laddie frae the noble Campbell clan, We always knew he’d be the chief of these; Ces. likes his kilts in Summer, but in the Winter and the Fall, He much prefers protection ’round the knees. 1 think that I can prophecy the life of Beta Knight; She tried to talk with spirits in the gloom. But when a ghost appeared. Beta almost died of fright, And the ghost laughed hollowly, and left the room. Down the ice I see come charging on a pair of gleaming skates, A hockey player of great renown and fame; And as I gaze upon him, he sits down upon the ice, Gordon Anderson is this bright star’s name. For one girl in the future, there’s a dreadful fate in store; She had her hair cut far beyond recall. And now style has decreed, that long hair shall be worn, I wonder what will happen to Lizzie Hall. Then T saw old Tommy Simpson, who’d sworn he’d never wed. Ere he would lose his freedom, he would die; And there beside him stalked his mistress tall and very grim. And as I looked at Tom’s sad feat¬ ures, softly did I sigh. Now I think that I shall tell a word of Bernice Lane; Literature will claim her for it’s own; Electa McDade, too, I think will win success amain, And far and wide her name shall then be known. One day a voice we all know will be heard upon the air, And by its beauty will you all en¬ thrall; It may sound at first like static, but if you persevere, You will find it is Julius Goldman after all. I see Pearl Banglois as a star upon the silver screen, I he hero of many a super play; Now let us gaze for just a while upon another scene Of Nellie Ostrowski as a cook some day. There are some folks say that Wilf. McArthur was dropped upon his head, When he was but a baby two or three. Mac’s none the worse for that, it’s made him wise instead; Oh ! what a lovely policeman he will be. 1 wandered in a circus where the freaks were all on show, And I saw a fat man sitting on a chair; Beside him stood a strong man, Who could twist a bar of steel; T hey were Mearl Menard and Par¬ ent, I declare. And now the vision’s fading, and I can see no more; The future life has vanished quite away. But if sometime in years to come, life seems but a bore, Just read this prophecy, and then be gay. CHARLES FISHER.