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

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The Windsor- Walkervilie Technical School Year Book III Now,” said Mr. Soundy to Bill, take I he ship up yourself for a flight, and remember, we don’t like funerals around here.” Bill realized that the great mom¬ ent of his life had come. He wait¬ ed for last minute instructions then quickly jumped into the plane. He pulled back the throttle, taxing into the wind. Then with a wave of his hand to the instructor, he pulled back the throttle hard. The plane jumped, quickly gath¬ ered speed, ran along the ground for about a hundred feet and slow¬ ly left old Mother Earth below. Bill was thrilled to think that at last he could fly a plane alone. Ho climbed steadily for about three thousand feet., then levelled out,” and for the first time looked at the earth far below him. He circled around the field three times and then decided to try his hand at landings. He shoved the control stick for¬ ward, but in this shoved it too far forward and the plane went in a nose dive for the earth. Bill lost his head for a moment and held the stick in the forward position while the plane dove steadily for the earth. About seven hundred feet from the ground Bill pulled the control stick hard back, and the plane, instead of going down turn¬ ed about and started to climb. Realizing this Bill levelled the ship out, and loo king down at the ground saw Mr. Soundy frantically waving his hands. Bill took his eyes off Mr. Soundy and tried again to land. He brought the plane down to within fifty feel from the ground but he was going too fast to make it. Again he flew around the field for another try, this time sideslipping to about ten feet above the ground, so as to lose speed. Gradually he brought the ship to I he ground with the tail skid on the same level as the landing gear, making a beautiful three point landing, without a bounce, and rolling to a stop. Well.” said Mr. Soundy to Bill, you have flown your solo, and have well earned your wings.” DAVID SIMPSON. T2R. -o- A MEAL As he lurked in the slimy depths of his jungle pool, Scalo, the croco¬ dile. victor of a thousand battles, pondered over the means of secur¬ ing his next meal. The animals would no longer come to his pool to drink. They feared Scalo. whom (hey had christened “The Lurking Death.” Scalo was hungry: he must eat: to eat. he must use strategy. So he considered awhile. Ah! at last he had it — an idea worthy of Go- thar. king of crocodiles. Scalo rose to the surface of the pool, rolled over on his back and feigned death. Long he waited for a victim. Then, just as he was going to give up hope, he heard a stealthy tread. Poised above the water was a stately buck. He look¬ ed suspiciously at Scalo. but think¬ ing he was dead, dipped his lordly head and began to drink. Scalo moved like lightning. Tn a flash he had the buck by the throat and had hauled him into the water. There was an agonizing scream, a swirl of blood-dyed waters, and Scalo and his prey vanished. That night Scalo, the crocodile, victor of a thousand fights, dined royalty. ALLAN MUIR. GSR. -o- TO A FRIEND First Prize Poem By Frances McCubbin. Com. Spec. I woke one night when darkness ruled the earth, And watched weird shadows pas- ing to and fro; I thought, with a few swift, silent hours, This gloom will be dispelled by morning’s glow.

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18 The Wimlsor-AValkervilk Technical School Year Kook tally, kept going only by that faint, dim determination to win through. Suddenly the green and white jer¬ sey vanished. In its place was a long white line faintly visible to his blurred eyes. The tape! With a last great effort he hurled him¬ self at it, felt ft: snap on his chest, and fell into the arms of his wait¬ ing comrades, the winner, -o- JIVARO LOVE Se-lak, the Swift, w-as in a quan¬ dary. His sweetheart, Leesom, the shapely one. had repulsed his ad¬ vances. “Bring me the head of Ron-ti the Mighty, and I will be yours,” she called mockingly after the disgruntled Se-lak. Se-lak fingered the razor-like edge of his kris and thought long¬ ingly of the head of Ron-ti. Ron- ti was a mighty head hunter and chief of a warlike tribe—to get his head would be no easy task. Be¬ sides, one hundred miles of dank jungle, teeming with carnivorous animals and shakes, lay between Se-lak and his prize. Se-lak decided to call on On-da, the Ancient one, for advice. “My son,” said Onda, “women are cap¬ ricious creatures, laden with fool¬ ish fancies. They will stop at no¬ thing to get what they wish, but they arc none the less desirable. Here is a mighty charm, wear it round your neck and you will be successful in your undertakings.” Three days later Se-lak was prowling around the outskirts of the village of Ron-ti. lake a wraith he slipped from hut to hut till at last he reached that of Ron-ti. lie hesitated, fingered his charm, and with the picture of Leesom in his mind, entered the hut. The hut which usually contain¬ ed Ron-ti and his ten wives, was a very large one. From its rafters dangled a full score of shrunken heads, mute witness to the prowess of the chief. However, Ron-ti was asleep and his wives were out. With victory almost within his grasp. Se-lak stumbled. In a Hash Ron-ti was on his feet, with a naked kris in his hand. Kris met kris—youth against a veteran warrior—one was fighting for love, the other for life. Ron- li got first blood, while his kris neatly shaved off Selak’s ear. Mad with pain, Se-lak took the offen¬ sive and backed Ron-ti into a cor¬ ner. There was a vicious “swish and the head of Ron-ti lay on the floor. His body stood for a sec¬ ond, blood gushing from the shorn arteries, then it crashed to the floor. Se-lak picked up the head and fastened it to his sarong with the long hair. He left as noiselessly as he came. In a few minutes he was in the jungle on his way to receive his just rewards. He again survived the perils of the jungle and was received as a hero in the village. After the feast he went to the hut of Leesom and laid the grisly trophy at her feet. She looked at it and rushed to his arms. “I am yours, my jaguar of the jungle,” she murmured softly. ALLEN MUIR, C3B. - 0 - BILL ROGER ' S FIRST SOLO FLIGHT “Look at that landing!” said Mr. Scott, the mechanic, who had been watching the descent of Mr. Soun- dy, the instructor, and Bill Rogers, a student, in a training plane. “That was beautiful,” said Mr. Scott to Mr. Soundy as the plane rolled to a stop beside the hangar. Don’t tell me Bill landed that ship!” “Yes,” answered Mr. Soundy, “he landed that ship himself. At first I thought we were going to crash, but by a quick manoeuvre we succeeded in making a good landing.”

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20 The Windsor-Walkcrvillc Technical School Year Book Mysterious world! How rapidly you change The dreary darkness into roseate light; E’en thus, when I’m with you, my dearest friend. All rhy dark hours assume a radi¬ ance bright. -o- YEAR HOOK MEMORIES A blot of ink here, A name written there, The cover all finger prints. She doesn’t care. They’re memories of Tech; And the good times she had; Just to look back over them. Makes her feel sad. The book is a treasure To her mind, so dear; As she turns the page over. She loses a tear. Her eyelids are closing. She lets the book fall. As she sleeps toward dreamland. She hears a voice call. E And before her are pictures, Of memories long past; Rut nobody knows How long they will last. So while she is happy. We’ll all steal away. That she may dream onward. And Tech thoughts may stay. ELEANOR BURKE, C2A. -o- COURAGE To the temple of Buddha, Through old China’s fog. They bore the infidel devil. The unbelieving dog. They swore that, he would bow Before their idol bright; They did not know the white man Or his capacity for fight. When they reached the temple They spat upon his face; He tugged upon his bonds And thought of distant Grace. Me strained his mighty sinews. His bonds he tore apart, He seized a giant sword And fought with all his heart. Three yellow men were dead In a pool of living gore; His sword flashed in an arc Cutting down another four. % He is sorely wounded; The blood runs in his eyes; The yellow pack around him Send forth exultant cries. He clears a space around him And totters on his feet; With a grim smile on his face His Creator he goes to meet. For the honour of his country. For the glory of his race, He died a noble death Which time cannot efface. Ry ALLAN MUIR. C3R. -o- “TECH” What is greater far than fame? What ranks higher than honoured name? What makes us wish to play the game? Love of Tech! What makes our hopes mount to the skies? What makes us all wish we were wise? What else could make our spirits rise, Save love of Tech? When we have gone to face the world, Why will rare visions be unfurled Of the school adored by boy and girl? Love of Tech! RENEE SKLASH, C. Special