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

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THE PELHAM PNYX ZI - 17 E i 'Q-- -1 a as ti as QIlf'f lII .lEQ 1 5 E 57 alrvlli , -if --.. f l, - 7' e- 'i- ' is ff --t -HF gg '- Z - Ill 2fE? ?t 'Zt HHH? lll i -,,.. A ' y ?ETi,iL.,lf , Zi f I i s. . - e 25 I I I ff ' f 4 2 Ml , te iff 5 Z 5' -:.jiTTTT' I CTW il fgwiffff F A T - ie ,ff u i ' Q NJ, H - ,V y i, dx? TQ4f . l 1.5 5 -- mw: it .,. ,T. x PARLIAMENT BUILDINGS, TORONTO Watched them turn a can of milk, straight from ye old farm, into that bever- age which you find on your doorstep each morning. But time was fleeting and we hurried on our Way, this time to the Star Building. l'm sure we Walk- ed up and down several miles of steps in that building, but we were rewarded for every one we took. We waited around awhile and saw the Daily go through the presses until the noise got the better of us and we wandered out and on to the Parliament Buildings. A guide ushered us about, showing us all the points of interest. We went into the legislature where he declared that a Mr. Zwierschke of Grade IX should be our Speaker. We were escorted out once more, and, after a hur- ried consultation, we all got seats in the Visitors' Gallery to watch the open- ing exercises of parliament. We were all a little surprised at the way a debate in parliament is carried on. The member who was speaking seemed to be the only one who was interested in what the member who was speaking was say- ing Cwhich all sounds slightly complicatedl The other members were wand- dering about Chalf of them weren't even therel. Some of them were reading their newspapers, some were glancing over the current copy of Hunting and Fishing which page boys had placed on each desk. These same page boys were busy passing ice water to work-weary members and the sight of those floating ice cubes suddenly made me very thirsty for ice. Apparently it had a similar effect on the rest of the gang for the whisper went around that we were due for an appointment with a mummy. So we slipped noiselessly away, back through the parliament buildings and out onto the street where we sat- isfied our lust for ice by sliding on a piece we found on the sidewalk.

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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

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22 THE PELHAM PNYX To the museum! was the command, and to the museum we went, land- ing in the Indian department around the totem pole. A couple of little boys were gazing longingly at a tomahawk, so we were all hustled off to view Egyp- tian pottery. From here it was only natural to wander into the Egyptian inner sanctum, the mummy room. I, for one, suddenly felt very queer, and, after casting one chattering eye into a dark corner, I beat a hasty retreat and went to see some little red fishes, and a lot of other fishes too, marching across a wall. Of course they were stuffed, but they all looked very happy and I began to feel better. Then-Oh, but we mustn't forget the dinosaur! Poor fellow! I-le looked as though he might have seen better days and no doubt he had. We saw so many things in the museum-the guns and spears, the coats of mail, the dresses and shoes, the Chinese room+but it was getting late, so we drove back to Moore's for supper for should I say dinner?D. After what seemed to me to be a half hour wait we had a very good meal and I had an argument with a waitress. With half a dish of ice cream still cooling my tonsils I made the bus and relaxed. We were homeward bound and as the bright lights faded away everyone reached for those elastic bands and a new round of ammunition. This held out until we got back to Stoney Creek wherea kind-hearted waitress gave us a fresh supply. Cn the last lap of our trip someone yelled Turn out the lights, but nothing happened, so we threw more paper. Our editor was still talking to the little blonde, the boy with the green polka dot tie was tak- ing off his shoe, Mr. Crossley looked very happy because we hadn't left any- one in Toronto. Then we were coming down the home stretch and the bus was passing a car, honking madly. No, it wasn't the bus that was honking -or was it? Or was it honking at all? VVhy it . . it was ringing. Suddenly I gave a snort, rolled over, and opened one eye. Wait a minute! Say, I must have been dreaming! It's only morning. We haven't gone yet. I've dreamed the whole thing. An idea struck me. XVouldn't it be funny if that's what actually did happen? And strange as it may seem, it was. A GLORIOUS ADVENTURE BV Edgar Ker, GRADE XIII TWENTY years come this June since Ace had made history in that madden- ing, glorious sixty minutes of real living. Aurora had rolled back the gates of dawn and had started Apollo on his trip across the heavens and Ace on his history-making trip across the enemy line, which was to prove to Ace's satisfaction that one crowded hour of glor- ious life is worth an age without a name. Strange premonitions had awakened Ace while heavy darkness clung to the earth and not until almost dawn were his intuitions realized. The Squad- ron leader opened the flap of Ace's tent, poked his head in and shouted in a hushed sort of way. Ace! Ace Cross! You're wanted at headquarters! The outcome was that he, he alone from a hundred expert air-men, had been detailed for special work-an hour's work that would bring him glory or death or even both. Nor was Ace found wanting-in him burned the joy of adventure-that insatiable something that wanted to do things solely for the sake of doing them. Two cu s of coffee, a cigarette, and he was off into the graying darkness with a stur y ship, six bombs, and the boundless confidence of youth. His objective was a munition factory. His' job was to bomb it. Fifteen minutes