Pelham Continuation School - Pelham Pnyx (Fenwick, Ontario Canada)

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THE PELHAM PNYX I9 plaining that the whole affair, including the proposal, was just an unavoid- able mistake. In the living-room Miss Susan sat down for a moment to catch her breath and as she did so, her eyes fell on the page of a book she had been reading. Far down the page, near the bottom, she noticed the words: One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name. She thought for some minutes. Finally Miss Susan smiled strangely, bent down and patted Dobson gently, and then went slowly back to the kitchen to finish her ginger cookies. She had had her glorious hour and its memory would never leave her. s 4 UPPER sci-loot ' PN - An. a lk Seated Cleft to rightj-Joy Guinn, Elsie van Berkum, Julia Dilts, Margaret Tuck, June Wham, Gwendolyn Mitchell, Marion Mitchell, Victoria Ned. Standing-Eva Secord, Donald Metler, Edgar Ker, William Colcock, John Wiley, Gordon Beamer, Margaret Strawn. Absent-Paul Tokar, Paul Bender, Marion johnson.

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20 THE PELHAM PNYX P. C. S. GOES TO PARLIAMENT I! By Glenna Julian, GRADE X111 I TURNED on the alarm, turned out the light and hit the proverbial hay. And then, before I was properly asleep, or so it seemed, I was getting up, rac- ing for clothes, looking at the clock, and searching with one sleepy, explor- atory toe beneath the bed for one elusive pair of number eights. Then I was eating breakfast, swallowing a weak cup of toast and munching a hard piece of coHee-No! No! That's wrong! Oh well, what's the difference? I was in a terrific hurry, and after a mad scramble I reached the school just as two sleek yellow buses pulled up, the pride and joy of a well known local bus company. And now, you're going to say, what is the meaning of all this bedlam, this sudden burst of early rising and hasty breakfasting? What are these stream- lined yellow monsters doing in front of our quiet old P. C. S. at 8:30 in the morning? Well, the truth of the matter is that we were going to Toronto, two busloads of us. In the school gym everyone was strutting about in his best suit or pulling her hat down a little more over one eye. The girls were surveying their make- up i11 small handbag mirrors and the boys had that scrubbed, pink and white look behind the ears which you notice only on occasions of state, such as their first date. Then We were all scrambling aboard, rushing to find a seat, and after a few shouts of Hey, scram! I vvant to sit there, we, in the first bus, were off, with Mr. Crossley, our principal, placed neatly up in front beside the bus driver. Right behind us was the second bus under the able supervision of our Miss De la Mater. Someone said in my ear, Take a look at the bus driver, which I did, and then I took another one. He didn't exactly look like Tyrone Power, nor quite like Errol Flynn,4no, but I was impressed. Then the girl in the red hat and freckles across the aisle said: 'AI think 'South of the Border' is just too . . too . . well, just too! So we all sang 'South of the Border' and 'Scatterbrain' and 'The Little Red Fox' and the school song, and had a very melodious trip as far as Stoney Creek where a halt was called for limbering up. just as we were about to go on the boy in the plaid scarf who had missed the bus drove up, and we took him aboard and away we went. The girl next to me made the startling statement that the driver's name Was jim, so we sang a serenade to jim and then, 'Lo and Beholdl' Across the backs of the seats in front of us we found some elastic bands. What their original use was I don't know, but we quickly removed them and using the wrappings of chocolate bars as ammunition we sent such a volley of shots up to the front of that bus as would make even Hitler die of envy. This, you may imagine, occupied most of our time until we got to Toronto and stopped for a lunch which we had carried with us. While we were eating this at Moore's Restaurant I look- ed around to see what dignitaries were honouring us with their presence, and right away I spied our editor, deeply engrossed in a little blonde number. Across the room I saw the president of our Literary Society, and our athletic presidents. Yes, it was a noteworthy aggregation. Having satisfied our appetites, temporarily at least, we all piled into the buses again and drove down to the main store of the T. Eaton Co., where we spent half an hour going through the toy department and riding the escalators. At 11:15, after collecting a few lost souls who had wandered too far afield, we drove on to the City Dairy and gave them all a pleasant surprise. We were taken through the ice cream plant and shown all the intricacies of that process although the workers were having lunch at the moment. Then we