Paris District High School - Yearbook (Paris, Ontario Canada)

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PARIS HIGH SCHOOL YEAR BOOK Honour Bound Joe Harris? Say which of you fellows is Joe Harris? A tall, muscular lad in spikes and running regalia, separated himself from a dozen similarly clad figures and dashed forward to meet the messenger. I'm Joe Harris! VVhat do you want? Here's a telegram for you, was the curt reply, f'Sign this, and the boy thrust forward simultaneously. a book, pencil and yellow envelope. VVith feverish haste Joe dashed off his name and tearing open the envelope read: Return home at once. Father killed. Mother. Joe's lips quivered slightly and a mist filled his eyes. All the joy and fellowship he had enjoyed during his five years at Glencoe Preparatory Schooln seemed to fade in his mind and in their stead loomed a dark and dismal future. His father dead! It seemed incredible for only a week ago . . . . All ready, Harris, you must win your last event-the school's honour . . . VVhy, what's the matter, lad? You're white as a sheetln Joe hastily thrust the message into his sweater pocket and then gulped out a low Nothing O'Brien, the coach, although he knew that something was wrong, did not press the boy to a disclosure but instead he placed his hand on his shoulder with a cheerful: All right, son, get in there and do your best , and he strode away. The young athlete stood perfectly still, his mind revolving what the coach had said to him. Finally he pulled himself together and a look of grim determination came into his eyes. He must win! The honour, ah, how that word was drumming in his ears now! The School's honour was at stake. He would fight to win and then . . . The six o'clock special roared into Glencoe City station and slowly slacken- ed down with a hissing grinding sound of applied brakes. Joe Harris, carrying only a small valise, ascended the carriage steps, made his way into a partly occupied coach and sat down. His face looked drawn and fatigued. The train started and he glanced at his wrist-watch. Five minutes past six! By half- past eight he would be home and tears came into his eyes at the thought, he, who but an hour ago had been carried off the school campus on the shoulders of a lusty, carefree, cheerful mob of admirers! Vainly trying to conceal his grief from the other passengers, he turned to the window and watched the miles roll by. A tap on the shoulder brought him around face to face with the conductor. Ticket, please, he asked patiently and Joe produced his pass from his pocket. Precisely two hours later, our hero alighted from the train to the plat- form of the dimly lighted station of Jacksonville. Here he hired the only conveyance and soon he was rattling homewards. Immediately the car stop- ped, Joe hastily paid the driver and, half running, half stumbling, he mounted the veranda steps. His mother met him in the parlour and, without a word, he enfolded her passionately in his arms, his pent-up sorrow breaking all bounds. The time has shifted two weeks in advance of this last episode. Joe Harris is one of the many freshmen patiently waiting for an interview with the head of Marsden University. After a long wait his turn comes and he is ushered into the president's office. Williani Wallace VVorthington, plus several degrees, wheeled around in his swivel chair and beckoned the youth to take a seat opposite him. Joe com- plied instantly although he felt somewhat fidgety. The head opened the con- versation with, Joseph James Harris. Have I you aright'? Yes, sir! was the prompt response. You wish to take up civil engineering I see. Yes, sir. Well, it's an extremely difficult course but by diligent studying you'll succeed. I find your certificates and recommendations excellent and I sincerely hope you will cherish every hour spent in this institute. And now, since my 17

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PARIS HIGH SCHOOL YEAR BOOK all you have a staff, supported by a Board of Education, which leaves no stone unturned for your welfare. The Literary Society of which we are all proud has the hearty support of your staff because they realize that in this institution you have an oppor- tunity to develop your talents along many lines of activity. P. H. S. has the unique honour of being the only High School among many collegiates in the debates of the Western Ontario Secondary Schools Association. In this association your representatives have surpassed many from the larger col- legiates in debating and oratory. Your school has an academic record of which you may be proud and which it is your bounden duty to uphold. In athletics P. H. S. has often carried the honours off the field and all have realized that All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy. Yet these have not been stressed to the exclusion of the academic work. This is the heritage of which you have become heirs. May such a history of the past stimulate you to rise so that you may gain still greater heights of glory and honour both for your school and yourselves. VVe feel a sadness in being forcibly separated from such a heritage, a sadness which no one can quite appreciate who has not passed through our present experience. We owe much to this school and this staff as well as the staff which preceded you. Some of us have attended these class-rooms and walked the same halls for five years, others for less, yet all feel the same sadness in parting because we are severing a chain of associations which can never be quite the same now that school days are over All that we are and all that we shall ever be has to a large extent been determined by our High School days and if we fail we cannot lay the blame to another's door, and if we attain success or distinction in any of the chosen professions of life, we shall always acknowledge with gratitude the support which this school has given us. As a graduating class we leave these familiar halls and lose contact with many who are nobly filling our places. We lose our places and connections but the memory grows more precious and our affection for you and the school Will never pass away. We do not bid you a long last farewell for that would be too mournful, let it rather be the old, kindly affectionate parting, good- bye and good luck. Ellen A. Wishart Special Nlatriculation Prize, 1929 Donated by Mr. C. A. McCormick, Honorary President of the Paris High School Literary Society. BASIS OF AWARD: b 1. The award will be based on the results of the complete Junior Ma- triculation 112 papersl and Upper School English examinations. 2.. First-class proficiency on a paper shall count five points, second-class proficiency four points, third-class proficiency three points, and a credit two points. 3. The winner shall be the student of the fourth form who has the greatest number of points, provided that he has passed on at least twelve of the fourteen papers, mentioned above. If there is a tie, the winner shall be the one who makes the greater number of points on the Departmental examin- ation in 1929. If there is still a tie the prize will be divided. The prize will be presented at the Commencement Exercises to be held on the last Friday in November in 1929. 16

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PARIS HIGH SCHOOL YEAR BOOK time is limited, I must be brief. You will report to Mr. Eastman in number four dormitory at nine o'clock tomorrow morning and he will look after you. The head finished, and after shaking hands with the newcomer, dismissed him. Days afterwards, when Joe was settled down to his work in earnest, he was strolling leisurely towards the football field whence were coming the cries of animated youths. On the Way he was accosted by the coach of the team who came to the point at once with I say, Harris, a friend of mine at Glencoe tipped me off that you were a mighty good halfback. Go to the club- house, borrow a suit from Jenkins and report to me! Joe blushed but then said steadily, choosing his words, I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I'm through with sports. You see, sir, with my studies and er-with the job I'm applying for as janitor's helper, I can't possibly spare the time! The coach scrutinized him closely and then replied frankly, I like you Harris and the chances are that you're a real player! You come and try out for the team and I'll fix it so that you get that job. On the other hand, if you don't accept, no job! As this was seemingly the only way out now, Joe accepted the offer and fifteen minutes later, he was lining up with the scrub players. Say, coach, that Harris is a wonder! Look at him break away! He appears to be a great find if he doesn't get a swelled head! Brent Bosworth, the captain of the regular squad, addressed the coach in this manner as they stood surveying the 'turnioil from the side-lines. The last named made no reply but in his eyes gleamed the light of satisfaction. As the players were filing towards the club-house, the coach called Joe from among them and when they were alone, he said to him, Harris, I'm going to break all my steadfast rules by giving you . . . a fresh . . , your colours. Furthermore you will be given a tryout against Stanford, our greatest rival, next week, and I hope that you'll come through both for your mother's sake and for that of the 'Golden Brown' Joe felt a lump rise in his throat, but controlling his feelings, he said modestly, Sir, I certainly appreciate your confidence and I'll do my level best both for the school's honour and for my mother. With this, he ran off in pursuit of his fellow-players. The coach followed him with appraising eyes until he disappeared and then musing, said to himself, He won't disappoint me, he's too plucky! PART II. The Grand Finale. The years have fiown by since last we heard of Joe Harris and now we find him, grown to manhood, escorting his mother to a seat in the huge auditorium. His graduation night! It seemed incredible and yet it was true! In another few minutes he would be called forward by the president of the university and be presented with his parchment and his scholarship. Hark! The chairman has paused before presenting the last diploma. Now he is once more addressing the assembled throng: Ladies and gentlemen,-It gives me a great deal of pleasure to present to you this evening one of the most out- standing young men ever educated within the portals of this university. D'ur- ing his four years here, he has proved at all times most reliant, studious and courteous. He is, this year, the winner of the handsome scholarship presented by the Royal Society of Engineers, which reflects still more honour on his parents, his college and himself. I might add that the aforesaid society has appointed him to a very noteworthy position and I am certain that you will now vouch for his popularity. Will Mr. Harris please come forward? We leave Joe Harris at the end of his admirable school career and now steadily mounting the ladder of success. He saw his vision and had the courage to fight to attain it, buoyed up by his own will and honour. Finis. Terence VVhitbread 18