Peterborough Collegiate and Vocational School - Echoes Yearbook (Peterborough, Ontario Canada)

Page 35 text:

Behind the Printer's ink The Inside Story of a Headline by EDNA BGRLAND, VA The members of the budding university English Club were discussing the subject of the afternoons lecture on newspaper work. Laurie, the leader in all things intellectual, sat a little apart from the others, thoughtful, and with a bitter twist to his young mouth. Well! exclaimed Paul Hedron with raised eye' brows, Why so glum? Laurie looked up with a startg he seemed to have forgotten the others. Glum? he repeated, I-I was just thinking about a remark someone just made about headings-that there was nothing much to them, just a splash of the biggest words possible. Well, they're wrong! There's a great deal behind a news heading. He looked past the little group that turned as he spoke, past Paul who sat with his hat pushed back on his head, past red-headed Betty, the toast of the campus, past Rolley, the football halfback. He spoke as if to himself, staring into space, drawing the words from his innermost soul, each word fol- lowing the other like a tired runner whose sheer will forces him on. Unknown to the son whom he was going to meet at the station Mr. X. instantly killed last night when the car he was driving skidded and struck the train at the level-crossings. I remember seeing that, exclaimed jean of the tip-tilted nose. Well, what of it? cried Paul irritably. Lets do something! But Laurie interrupted him and Paul involuntar- ily shrank from the piercing gaze of steel-grey eyes. What of it? he cried, Do you want to know really what happened? What the story behind it involved? He sighed and leaned back, his face clouded momentarily and his eyes were haunted, un- certain and curiously wistful. 'iSixteen years ago a young woman died, leaving her husband and a three year old son. Previously the man had loved his son as a part of his beloved young wife. Now he transferred his entire affection to that little chap with all the fire and fierceness of a man deprived of the one he loved most in all the world. And it was returned by a love undivided be- tween two parents. The boy was too young to under- stand death or to realize his loss. For a week his demands were incessant but in a month he rarely mentioned his mother. The man had a great responsibility but his shoulders were broad enough for the task. He had loved his young wife too deeply to love any other and he preferred to risk being both father and mother to their son rather than abandon him to some stranger. He adored the boy and the little fellow idolized his Dad. ' CContinued on Page 851 Snow Storm by CATHARINE WHITE, n B com. ,'Tl1e old woman of the sky is pluvkiizg her while goose. How many times have I been told that, when, as a youngster, I stood at the window and watched the flakes drift down! Now I know the scientific facts about snow, but nothing in a text book des- cribes a snow storm as well as that old superstition. Of course it would have to be a very big goose, for the air is crowded with the jostling myriads of feathery particles. It gives a feeling of immensity to gaze up into the sky and see the apparently un- limited fall of the flakes. They descend slowly, gracefully, as if unwilling to reach the earthg and finally settle down to merge with their companions into a glistening blanket of snow. People say that there is no magic to-day. Did they ever stand and watch a bare and gaunt tree being turned into a fairyland of lacy tracery against a darkening sky? Or see an ugly, oppressive street take on the as- pects of a Christmas card under the softening in- fluence of a good snow storm? And when night falls, what is more comforting than the soft whisper of snow as it drifts across your window pane? To scientists, snow is just frozen water, but to me it is a magician, changing the world from an ugly and everyday place to something that is ethereal in its beauty. Reborn by oteft wesravs, v A To-day I think my soul was born again, A breath of spring, the weary winter done, And like a broken blossom after rain, I felt it growing in me with the sun. The music of fresh waters fillled the air, It winged my heart with love of life once more, Fast with the fading snow went doubt and care I stood re-armed, the shrouded year before. Page Twenty-three

Page 37 text:

DOUbl6 Trouble Dc1ve's Memory Was Weak, and so was Wencly's Ankle by PAULINE STORY, V A 'Twas the Saturday morning after one of the best parties he had ever attended. Dave stretched luxuriously in hed and meditated. Somehow, he rather wished he hadn't made that date for the next Friday though, but then, what could he do? After all, he was dancing with the girl, when that fool Ted came over and asked her to go skating with him on the following Friday evening. Ted was short, cross-eyed and a bad skater besides, and Pat had turned to Dave with pleading eyes. Dave recol- lected that Pat's eyes were lovely, dark and deep-setg the thought of her staggering through an evening of skating with Ted had been too much for his chival- rous nature. He had said to the optimist, Sorry, Ted, but we've got Friday all booked up, haven't we, Pat? And there he was! Of course, there was Wendy to be considered, whom he had been escorting for several months, but she was a good sport, and any- way, shed never know. Suddenly, a horrifying thought struck him, he seized a calendar, and sure enough, there it was! He not only had a date with Pat for Friday night, he also had one with Wendy! What on earllz could he do? --f , . 1,4 VH, . Y ,Bragg , ' ,, ,, ' ',f,j'i ' Xa 'Q ' -f'fj,, -f,,2? 1,1--- ff ,. - ' if- K ff f - ' . .ft-fp1f?S . . ., -, . .figs--if' ,, --v ff x ,, f ', . ' arf-'-if . ff' 5 .. I s 'Hr-191 ,-zffqq - if- ' f V si, . . .Mp ,ffff ,sg L- ' 1 - JV' wh, 7 , f ,. 1 -mr 10 v f .fy l... f 41 V . .fr 1 . fl 'A Sv I ' o f S-955' if -fif? M51 . 114,41 .V , , I .- ,yy H . .. f--la --Wifi! so aa ,, W e I -1 ' lf -fi I. fl t g' 7- -'A - - ,.. f llffpfg, ll, S -f i x .1 . X ' WW . , s e l7n1'r'! N01 y014. ' - If wax l'lyF?III1'l'. Came Wednesday evening and poor Dave was still in a quandary. He couldn't possibly avoid that engagement with Pat-he hardly knew her. On the other hand, he really wanted to go out with Wendy. With a bewildered expression on his face he stared at his homework and wondered what he should tell who. In the midst of his reveries burst the ring of the telephone. 'lThat you, Dave? came Wendy's familiar tones. That gentleman murmured assent, and the con- ventional inquiry about her health, while his mind with lightning rapidity considered and discarded alibis. I wonder, she said anxiously, after she'd been talking for awhile, if you'd forgive me if I didn't go out with you on Friday? Page Twenlyfour Wonder of wonders! feign disappointment 2- We-e-ll, I guess not. Was he dreaming? Best to If you must. but we're going to have 'Tm terribly sorry, visitors, she pleaded, and I don't see how I can leave the house. All right then, said our hero in his best sports- manlike manner. Shall we make it Saturday? Great! You're such a dear, Dave! Dave hung up with a sigh of relief. Everything comes to him who waits. No doubt about it. Old Bill Shakespeare knew what he was talking about- or was it Bill? Oh, Well, who cared? He danced back to his homework with his mind free from worry. The fatal evening arrived, and off they went to the Park. Pat looked lovely. Her navy ski-suit emphasized the smallness of her figure, the darkness of her eyes, the gold of her hair. She was sweet, too, very helpless and feminine, Dave felt so big and strong with her! But she couldn't ski, and while picking her up was far from unpleasant, Dave nevertheless found himself remembering Wendy's skill. At the top of the slope, Pat shivered and said she would never dare go down a hill like that! Dave again thought of Wendyis tomboy daring. She would have been off first, teasing him because he hesitated, defying him to race her to the bottom. Nothing helpless about Wendy! Finally Dave persuaded Pat that her last minute would not come if she followed him down the slope, and having warned her always to fall sideways, he set off with her close behind. He knew she was close behind because she screamed every time she hit a bump. Suddenly, out of the maze of trees to his right a swiftly moving figure swooped down across his path. It was too late to dodge, he plunged head- first into the snow and the other skier continued a short distance unmolested, then came back. Dave extracted his upper portions from the soft snow and brushed it from his eyes and hair. In the darkness he could make out three ngures, Pat and another couple. One of the others shone a fiashlight in his face, and a familiar feminine voice gasped. Dave! Not you !', It was Wendy. Our hero was speechless but Pat murmured in surprise, You two know each other? Wendy took control, as she usually did, and in- troduced herself and her companion. The latter was a tall, dark boy with an English accent. A1- though his name was Dudley he was very good-1ook- ing, and Pat was soon engaged in animated conver- sation with him. They decided to make it a four- some, and Dudley and Pat started off together. Kiontinued on Page 83D