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Page 16 text:
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14 THE VOTAGEUR BEHIND THE SCENES WH.AT ARE we GOING TO DO ABOUT ir? If you were asked that very question in that very selffsame tone of voice about 2,374.6 times semi' weekly, you'd probably start to wonder QU do about what? 12, what are we going to do? We did try wondering. Suppose we drop in on the Editorial Staff and see what they're doing about it. It probably would be more fun to go to the movies tofnight, even if it is a doublefbill ,but we're going to pay a visit to Behind the Scenes of a Magazine Uffice, Chapter One. We've known readers who insisted on knowing what was going on Behind the Scenes of All Sorts of Industries, to such an extent that the only privacy an Industry had was to be In Front of the Scenes all the time. However, we hope this will fix their insatiable curiosity so thcy will never need to, or want to, know again what takes place in the Editor's sanctum sanctorum. Prying open the door, fnever knockg you're liable to wake some one upj, we wade through the piles of copy, debris, reporters and other whatf not scattered about the rims of the seemingly inaccessible, but inevitable wastefbaskets. On the desk, if the editor would take his feet down off it, you might see some copy. This is left in a conspicuous place as a decoy while the editor lies in wait with shears and bluefpencil behind a typewriter. Should anything develop, as things occasionally do, you would be the witness to a most remarkable sight. Few people, even office boys and hardfhearted refwrite men who habitually frequent the office, have ever seen the editor fly into action, brandishing pad and pencil, or waving a typewriter over his head. Gears grind, wheels spin and the universe trembles. But. as we say, few people have ever seen this. That is, few living people. Some of the more harmless things on exhibition are the photographers and assistant pencilfsharpeners, They have little in common with the rest of the staff. Insult a photographer and he'll come right back at you by taking your picture, fusually when you're not the least bit readyj, or by going into a dark room and sulking. The literary editors look at picture books all day because-no, not because they can't read, but because they like to. Other sundry department heads, such as the Sport's Editor, play parchesi or tiddlyfwinks. The very essence of peace and repose is repref sented here in this charming little pastoral scene. Yes, it is this whirlwind and maelstrom of cataclysmical phantasmagoria that depicts the titanic and at times even pitifully gigantic struggle of a few individuals, who should know better, to present this masterpiece in publication to you. We hope this will answer all your questions, with, perhaps, the exception: Why was this ever written?
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Page 15 text:
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THE VOTAGEUR l 3 EDITORIAI. To The Future Ten more years have slipped away. Ten years packed with success and achievement. In academic, athletic and social pursuits, we have earned an enviable position. We have now completed ten years upon which we can look back with pride and a measure of satisfaction. Ten years represents the achievement of a goal. Ten years in the life of a growing school, in a young country, in an everchanging world. A glance through Pickering's annals would show why we are so justly proud, therefore, of our past. Tofday we live in troublefburdened and strifefridden times. The either courageous or foolhardy readers of the daily newspapers are constantly ref minded of bloody war, brutal murders, discontented labour, political intrigue, social prejudice and prize lights. The madness displayed is only equalled by the insanity eventually induced in the reader. Modern man must perform mental gymnastics if he is to keep up with this rapidly shifting kaleidoscopeg most, however, go down with all the fight taken out of them. History is in the making all about us. Society is being renovated. But for the better? Perhaps never before have we been farther away from that longfdreamtfof Utopia in which man shall dwell with man as friend and brother. The visions of the idealists appear a long way from accomplished in this allegedly practical world. We may be permitted, perhaps, to revel in the glories of the past, though they to their contemporaries were not so glamorous, for we live in a chaotic present. Whither bound? W'here lies salvation? The realization of envisioned plans and dreams lies only in the future. The past is dead and gone: we have but to mourn over and profit by our mistakes, The present is governed by what is gone before, we live and learn. In the future is the unworked material of which to-days are made. We have a heritage, but we also have a problem. It is up to youth to not only tackle, but to solve it. Now we are working towards a tofmorrow that is ours, and which we all shall profit by. It has been said and will be said that job is too great. There once was a man who passed this way to whom no task was too small, too large. To us has been passed the torch: let us hold it high, and allow us to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. This magazine, therefore, if to anything, is dedicated to the future.
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Page 17 text:
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THE VOYAGE UR I 7 IQEFLECTIIDNS Cf A HEADMASTEIQ IN BARR1E's CHARMING PLAY Quality Street the author makes one of his female characters say Why is it that thirty seems so much older than twentyfnine? The query is uttered plaintively by a young lady who apparently is having to resign herself to long years of single blessedness. At this time I am moved to a somewhat similar commentf- why is it that the tenth year seems so much more important than the ninth? I must confess I do not know the answer but I am very certain that this year has seemed more than usually import' ant. It marks a decade since the refopening of the doors of the school in 1927. Now that we are nearing the actual completion -jptlj 'mi of the final year's work of that decade, it ffl! ,pg g seems a good time to reflect on our experf .,v,g5.j4Q5i-13 iences. May I be pardoned, therefore, if this article is even more personal in tone than it is my custom to contribute to these pages CLD TaAD1T1oNs, New Imifxts The above phrase was used in much of our advertising literature during the first few years of the school. We were very conscious of the fine reputaf tion and the noble traditions that had been established for us by the old Quaker school at Newmarket and before that at Pickering. Everywhere I went among people who were familiar with the work of the school prior to 1917, I heard it described in the highest terms. Furthermore, it was evident that at all times there had been infused into the life of the school those spiritual qualities which for centuries have marked the history of the Society of Friends. But there had been a gap of ten years. Old contacts and associations had been lost or broken. A young headmaster, unacquainted personally with the old school, was undertaking to revivify those fine traditions. But it was a new and different day. The cataclysm of the war years had altered not only the face of the earth but the mould of men's thoughts and we were and are still in the midst of changes, social, economic, political and religious more striking and more signihcant than any that have occurred within the recent memory of man. We have forsaken horse and buggy, the stagefcoach, the paddlefwheel steamer. We have forsaken the primitive and largely agricula tural life of our foreffathers. The world has become infinitely smaller. Its economic mechanism has become tremendously complicated. New scientific light has changed the climate of opinion which governs to such a large extent our customs, our conventions and our modes of living. Education, to serve the new day must be different. It was not only our privilege but our duty to endeavour to combine in the new school all that was of value in the tradition of the past and to refadapt
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