Peterborough Teachers College - PTC Yearbook (Peterborough, Ontario Canada)

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J 0 IOJJ UJOUU JUUU ,EJ X-AV YEAR BOCK COMMITTEE Back row Cleft to rightj: R. Weir, V. McClaw, F. B. Smitheram, L. Siils. , Front Row Cleft to rightjz M. Rutherford, Reta Sproule, M. Jackson, M. Davidson. Editorial UR YEAR at Peterborough Normal School is quickly drawing to a close. Soon, this year will be a memory. To keep this memory vivid and complete, the Year Book Committee of 1947-48 has striven. We have appreciated the assistance from the staff and students which has helped to make this edition possible. Special thanks go to Mr. Smitheram who has faithfully led us through the steps of preparing this book. In this one brief year each of us has formed friendships. some of which will be lifelong. Each of us has had many pleasures in work and play. and each of us has become somewhat Wiser through the efforts of a pleasant staff. It is hoped that this book will be the link to keep friendships lasting and pleasant memories bright. When We part, some of us Will teach in rural schools, others in urban, and some may change to another profession. Wherever we are, whatever We are doing, may each find happiness. For, unless We are happy, we cannot give our best. , -BETA M. SPROULE, Editor. Page Eleven

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Unforgettable September 9, 1947 CLIMBED the steps with trepidation. The Normal School? Yes, in spite of its lack of an identifying label, this must be it. As I passed fearfully through its portals, 1 admonished myself grimly: Look, Ioots. you're a big girl now! and you're not running away! Jeepers! A man! and rather a cute looking man, too, with blonde hair and a sinister little moustache. Right up tnose stairs, young lady, he informed me. With muttered thanks and unuttered curses upon my new but embarrassingly noisy alligator pumps, I climbed and climbed and climbed those seemingly endless stairs. At last I arrived in an enormous room filled with rows and rows of seats, terrifying dignity and a few miserable-looking girls. I sat down gingerly in the nearest seat. Nobody spoke. Donning my ''I'm-a-very-poised-young-lady look, I moved up to sit with two other girls - strangers to me. We exchanged names, addresses and feelings and I was relieved to discover that others, too, expected Gabriel's trumpet to blow momentarily. I was chagrined to see that very, very few were wear- ing stockings. All summer long it had been dinned into my unwilling ears Remember - ladies always wear stockings! So here I was stockinged, a misfit! Suddenly, a bell rang! So like our fire bell at collegiate was it, that naturally, as an old fire horse smelling fire, I stood up and prepared to run. Then I sat down in confusion. The platform had filled up with a heterogen- eous collection of people. My moustached friend was there looking slightly more subdued. Another man there puzzled me because of the close resemblance he bore to either his Satanic Majesty or my late Uncle Art- which, T could not decide. The other men didn't interest me - one looked henpecked, and the other looked like the driver of a Canada Bread truck I had known once and cordially hated. The ladies fordinarilyl can find more interesting things to obervej made quite a contrast. One was short and chubby, and in a score of years would look like somebody's grandmother. Another was tall and stately and looked unapproachableg the third appeared to have a keen sense of humour. Then I saw another man, and why I had missed him at first I couldn't imagine for he was certainly no shrinking little violet. Remember in Zlulius Caesar' when Caesar says, Let me have men about me that are fat ? My' doubts of ever learning anything at Normal increased. The rest of the morning passed with me in a merciful state of semi- consciousness. I remember being herded through a bewildering maze of stairs and corridors and into rooms that seemed like bare cells. I remember all the masters cracking jokes and pretending they were hail-fellows-well- met . but they didn't deceive us any. None of the disappointments of the day was greater than the announcement that the boys would be segregated into a separate form. When we were finally dismissed, I rushed home and politely told my landlady that it was all perfectly wonderful . But the letter which I hastily wrote home told a different story. i'Dear Mom, I wrote, Come and get me at once! It's terrible and I dont want to be a teacher anymore! ' A -VERNA MAE BURNETT. Difficulties are merely opportunities for you to prove yourself. Page Ten

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EXECUTIVE OF LITERARY SOCIETY - FALL TERM Baci: Row Cleft to rightbz J. Lewis, O. Reynolds, J. Hubbard, Reta Sproule, M. Watson. M. Davidson, G. L. Woodruff, F. Howes, F. Morton. Front Row Cleft to rightjz P. Boyd, R. Douglas, M. Sargent, L. Homan. The Literary Society URIN G THE first week of the term the announcement was made that it would be necessary to organize the student body into a Literary Society. Even before many acquaintances had been made, we found ourselves nominating and electing those who would direct the student activities during the fall term. That first election chose the following: President ...... Jerry Hubbard Vice-President Madeleine Davidson Secretary . . Margaret Sargent Treasurer . .... Fraser Morton Representatives: Form I . . . Ramona Douglas, Luella Hornan Form II . . . Reta Sproule, Margaret Watson Form III . . . John Lewis, Orval Reynolds Athletic Society ..... Fraser Howes Red Cross Society ..... Phyllis Boyd With Easter occurring so early in 1948 we found ourselves preparing for the At Home almost as soon as the Christmas vacation ended. In the midst of it the election of the executive for the spring term was held, this time by the regular secret ballot method. As a result the directing body often known as the Hubbardite Regime was succeeded in office by the Carswe1l Coalitionu comprised of: Page Twelve