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

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Choosing A Course by ELEANOR COLLINS, X H. ARTS Oh, yes, Academic and Commercial courses are all right for career Women, but for the girl with domestic ideas, Household Arts is just the thing. I have often thought of being a secretary or even a druggist, but when I heard that Cary Grant liked good cooks, well, my mind was made up. It was Household Arts for me. Be- sides a woman's place is in the home, and what good would a Latin phrase be to a poor girl struggling with a poached egg? Oh how lovely it is to go by the cooking room! The delicious aroma of cookies and macaroons drifts out the door until you can't resist the urge to go in, but then how much lovelier it is to be on the inside sampling these delicacies. All of your shorthand and basic French won't satisfy that watering mouth, long- ing for one of those golden brown cookies just like the ones mother makes. No matter what profession a woman may enter there comes a time when she wants to see herself as a cook and home-manager. When she undertakes this new job she really ap- preciates what she has learned in the House- hold Arts Course. Mystery Music by JOYCE GALLAGHER, X H. ARTS One stormy winter night a rather peculiar incident occurred which will long remain in my memory. In the first place it was what one would term a spooky or mysterious night with the wind howling dismally through the trees and the sky slightly overcast. To make matters even worse, I happened, on this particular evening to be alone in the house. Retiring to bed earlier than usual I had commenced to read an extremely gruesome mystery story. As the plot rapidly unfolded before my startled eyes, I became more and more nervously aware of my surroundings and every now and then would cast furtive glances out into the darkened hallway. As I read on for awhile, I became drowsy and dozed for perhaps half an hour. Suddenly I was awakened by a loud dis- cordant crash on the piano downstairs. Sitting upright in bed, I listened for some minutes too terrified to move. Someone was down there who had no right to be! The supposed ghost would strike a jumble of confused notes on the piano-then stop-then start again. Finally curiosity surmounted my fear and I decided to investigate. Noiselessly I tiptoed to the door and peered out, listening. The sounds could be heard distinctly coming from the living-room. Groping about in the dark, I made my way to the stairway. The mysterious music had ceased for the moment. Waiting until it began again, I crept silently down the stairs to the door of the living-room. Bravely, I reached up my hand, and switched on the light. There-walking nonchalantly up and down the keys of the piano was my amazed pussy- cat obviously delighted yet a little surprised at the new sounds which it was producing. My Scrapbook by JUNE WALLIS, x H. ARTS I found my old scrap book One day on a shelf. The cover was dirty And very much Worn. I found it au grimy I mljllllllxnlll'limi I But each little spot And on it an elf I . Q i Told a tale all its owng Wh d th I t I remember them all And, tlijeerilesaid ioccinlgf j Thmlglfl Older PV9 grown- Just look at how careless H' lj That silly old elf You used to bgf' ' ' Thought I would care And then when 1 iooked z, If my Scrap bQOk Were tom I found it was true? 1 And showed signs of wear. The pages were Sticky ' fn-, I ,A E! I love old book Through use of much glue. UQ m And HOWFVQTY Year The pictures were crooked I 8131109 0 ef 1tS Pages And spotted and torn, Filled with rnern'ries so dear. Page Thirty-three

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Wings of Death by WALTER WHEELER, IX J The night was dark and misty with a heavy canopy of dark storm clouds hovering above the Western Front. All was quiet except for the hoarse whispers of huddled figures at look- out posts: or now and then the low rumble of light artillery duels. Suddenly, out of a cloud bank loomed an enemy bomber, with several light pursuit planes and fighters forming an escort and with many more bombers ,W and lighters following ill was heard and the tail of another storm victim disappeared beneath the icy waters of the Strait. After half an hour of blind iiying in the storm, a squadron of British Aerial fighters were sighted approaching the mass of German invaders. When still out of accurate firing range the British planes swerved to the right of the oncoming machines as though re- the flagship. Excellent 'N camouflage of dark gray paint hid the I droning machines from X sight. Already anti- f N aircraft batteries were O gl . roaring, machine guns 1 ' were chattering and fgax , superior officers were -V A Wy, barking brief com- X Q' ' mands to their men. 'xx One l i g h t pursuit v X XX plane came crashing ,' O XX E to the ground with a O xg, disabled tail rudder. ' The giant bOI'I'1b6I'S lVitl1. black .Smoke muSt be stopped at all XJ' streaming from their mo- costs OI' certain CliS- tors they nos-ed down- aster would come to , fwa.rd.s to the cleptlz. of civilians in France and E Dover Sfmitf' England! , French planes, hearing of the raid by communiques, roared off from hidden airports somewhere in France' to help bring down the enemy machines, but again the Germans slip- ped past the Maginot line's secondary defences. On and on they flew communicating with each other, ready to go into their dizzy dives and release their deadly bombs at the signal from their Flagship. As they neared the Strait of Dover the wind rose and for a moment several planes wavered in the sudden gust of wind. The night gradually grew darker and, as the great grey monsters zoomed out over the foam- ing waters, six thousand feet below a loud crackling noise was heard followed by a terrific burst of radiant light. The pilots were tempor- arily blinded by the streak of lightning. Then the storm broke and sheets of rain came down in torrents. Most of the lighter planes had dif- ficulty in keeping straight courses in the blinding fiashes of lightning and the fury of the driving rain. Suddenly one of the Fokkers, out of control, speared downwards to inevitable destruction, its delicate controls frozen by the electrical storm. A moment later an ear-splitting crash Page Thirty-four treating, after viewing the strength and num- ber of the enemy's craftsg but as the Ger- man planes opened their throttles in full chase, the allied planes looped above, and dived directly down upon the as- tonished and surpris- ed Nazis. The British machine guns were already spitting iire in the droning dive. A moment later the pilot of the German Flag- ship was critically wounded as he clutch- ed feverishly at the controls of the careen- ing bomber. The co- pilot yanked at the stick but soon he, too, from loss of blood-slumped at the controls of the plane. At the same moment two light Fokkers and one pursuit plane, with c6YO'lLti7'L1l6d on. Page S71 My Favourite Season by ETHLWYN GIBSON, x A COM. Of all the seasons in the year Autumn to me is best. It's nice to think the snow is near, When trees have shed their dress. I like to watch the birds fly south, Red Robin and the rest. And when the Winds begin to blow, Soon winter will be our Guest I love to stand upon a hill And Watch the ground belowg It looks so peaceful and so still, And forests seem to glow. Autumn is a precious time, A treasure from above, And gives a cheery memory of A season all can love.