Miles Macdonell Collegiate - Macadonian Yearbook (East Kildonan, Manitoba Canada)

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FIRST PRIZE-ESSAY The Absurdities of English Spelling Surely there can be only one thing worse than learning to speak our English language, and that is trying to spell it. The English language and its spelling have over the years managed to befuddle, bewilder, and exasperate untold multitudes of people. As for myse even after eleven years of schooling, I have not managed even a nodding acquaintance witl the fine art of spelling. How much easier it would be if there were only some rules that could be practically a - plied. Today ' s so-called rules are nothing more than a confused conglomeration of excep tions to the rules and exceptions which are exceptions to the exceptions. Sound confusing So is the spelling! Anyone, even I, can recite the little rule first the I and then the E un less preceded by a C. Henceforth I shall continue to write NIEGHBOUR when referring 1 the wonderful person who lives next door. Nor is this an isolated case. A list of such flukes could assume considerable length. A good number of words bring to my mind the ditty I met a man who wasn ' t there. The English language abounds in silent letters. The letter K and the group OUGH sta 1 very guilty of this inexcusable crim.e. Why can ' t I spell knock as nock and through a thru ? Why not? That would be too clear, concise, and altogether too simple! Would it really be asking too much for a language to be spelt as it sounds or sounded as it is spelt ' One question, please. Couldn ' t the spelling of the same sounds be somewhat clarifiec Why roam, Rome, and comb? Why not roam. Roam, and coam or Romb, romb, and com ? Trying to find the right combination of letters to produce the required sound is vaguely reminiscent of trying to find one special article in a rummage sale! Over the years, employing a great deal of mutual toleration, spelling and I have managed to survive, each to the obvious detriment of the other. While I struggle hopelest y with such monstrosities as antidisestablishmentarianism, I cherish only one golden hope. Science predicts that in the future all human communications will be via tape recorders at mental telepathy. I can only add a fervent and expectant, Amen! Marilyn Gordon XI-4 SECOND PRIZE-ESSAY Modern Chivalry The magazine article Chivalry is Dead arrested my attention. It was a very sad stc y and by the time I had finished it, I was certain that it was a history of some extinct specie: called woman which had died out because of an environment averse to its existence. Emotionally stimulated to show that the author was all wrong about the situation, I deter¬ mined to set the record straight. My first chance to show the chivalry of a true, red-blooded American male presented itself at the theatre that evening. As I entered the lobby for the second showing of a foreig film, a poor old lady was obviously having a terrible struggle to remove her heavy fur outc ' apparel without letting it fall. Gallantly, like Sir Galahad, I went forth to rescue the dams 1, Desperately I tugged at the coat and was amazed at the tenacity with which it clung to her. To my disgust, another examination of the situation revealed that she was actually trying t counteract my help. When she did not understand my explanation, it dawned on me that, perhaps, she had never met such a chivalrous young man before. With new determination, I redoubled my efforts to help her out of her dilemma. Too late, I realized that she had been to the first showing and was preparing to leave the building. The next day was one of exhausting work. At a street corner without a traffic light, rush-hour traffic was seriously impeding my efforts at crossing the street. It was then thet I envisioned another opportunity to display my nobler self. My spirits soared. There was a lady with a carriage. She was in the same predicament I was in, for she had a look of despair at the endless traffic. In a flash I had analyzed the situation and proceeded to tran: - port her carriage. I ignored her protests. After all, it wasn ' t far out of my way and wouh take little time. Her talking, which subsequently rose to shouting, continued. I, however, on my cloud of chivalry, was too busy directing traffic to notice her thanks. It wasn ' t until I had navigated half-way across the stream of traffic that it registered in my brain that it had not been her desire to cross the street, but that she had been waiting for her husband. Tired, and thoroughly disgusted with myself, I boarded the bus to go home and get some sleep. As I sat there, my dazed consciousness perceived that a corpulent woman had drop¬ ped a purse in my vicinity. Determined not to make a fool of myself again in the hop eless game of chivalry, I explained with a sigh, Chivalry isn ' t dead, lady. I am! Edwin Kroeger XI-3 HONORABLE MENTION Maureen Crump XI-3 Pat Sloan XI-9

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LITERARY FIRST PRIZE-POETRY Solitude Seclusion is a horrid state. Loneliness makes the heart forsake The world, as protection ' gainst The distant, cruel, despicable Race of mankind. Yes, my inaccessible Desert Sequesters me from the harshness of life. My peace is separate, isolated. Where I can retire, removed By distance, unto myself. Lorraine Botham XI-3 SECOND PRIZE-POETRY The Moose This monarch of the northlands. This mighty king of kings; His shiny magnificent body stands On limbs like young saplings. The massive horns, his royal crowns. Stretch up into the sky. But as he lopes through snowy downs He blinks a wary eye, And searches for his mortal foe - The gaunt, grey timber wolf. Michael Dunbar XI-4 HONORABLE MENTION John Kruizenga X-23

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