Pickering College - Voyageur Yearbook (Newmarket, Ontario Canada)

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THE VOYAGEUR Q POETRY Q My Native River by E. IINYSFIIUK See the river, deep and blue, Rushing swiftly to the bend, There to come out, swirling through, And enter to an early end. Many people on its shores Have fought for its possessiong Many have died in bloody wars, In many a bitter session. Now does the Dnieper River flow With happy homes on either side, In a land of peace and gloryg But, it shall be a different story. For, many nations have become Jealous for its wealthy stores, And, soon shall be another war On those rich and happy shores. But the river keeps on flowing, Heedless of the peace or sorrowg In bitter war, or peace beloved, Our only hope is for the morrow. , ' f J of ' oecomi Prize Pliotograplz by R. Sutcliffe

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THE VOTAGEUR 7 J by about ten feet. My gosh! that was some clout, thought the manager. Maybe I've made a find after all. Zeke proceeded to hit fifteen fouls in a row and the part that hurt was that they were all long clouts. After this exhibition of fouling Williams became disgusted and sent Zeke out to play first. joe Moore was taking his turn at the plate and he evidently thought the man from the hills would look good fielding a hot one for he laid a nice one down the Hrst base line. Zeke went after it, tripped over his own feet, and then fell on top of the ball. Zeke was immediately sent to right field. It wasn't long till a high fly came out to him, and he went galloping after it. He stretched out his arms to pick it off but the ball tore through his hands and hit him on the head. Williams kept Zeke around all training season and he still hit nothing but fouls and his fielding failed to improve. Williams didn't know himself why he kept himg but he amused the players and they regarded him as a sort of mascot. When the Skeeters started around the circuit on their first road trip. Zeke was still with the club. They were now in a three game series with the powerful Blue Sox and were badly in need of a win. It was the first of the sixth and the Skeeters led 4f3. However, the Sox were beginning to hit the southpaw slants of L'Lefty Brown and Sam was wishing the threatening clouds would do more than just threaten. The first two Skeet's batters were retired on strikes. A few drops of rain began to fall. The Skeeters were stalling in hope that the rain would conicg but the umpire hurried them up. Brown was up, but Sam thought he had better take him out for a pinch fhitter. He was trying to decide who to use when an idea popped into his head. Zeke, he ordered, get up there and hit. The pitcher let go his first pitch and Zeke slammed it into the bleachers but on the wrong side of the foul pole. As Zeke was hitting his thirteenth foul the storm broke and in ten min- utes the diamond was a small lake. No more baseball could be played that day and as five innings had been played the Skeeters were the winners. It was a foul trick, Williams admitted, but worth it. On Saturday Eve Wlien theres nothing to do We take a heave At flinging woo.

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THE VOYAGE UR ZS 0 SHORT STU RY Q The Pay-0ff by T. sTEPlmNs0N IKIE BERNSTEIN was worried, to say the least. For two weeks he had been on edge. He was jittery, his nerves were ragged, yet the one spark of manlif ness left in him kept him rooted where he was. Now the day had arrived. 'LSlick Rocco was free again. Mame Bernstein begged him to leave town. She became hysterical. Ike hit her once, hard, and never even bothered to look where she fell. He knew that flight was useless. He must beat Slick at his own game or Mrs. Bernstein would have to look for a new provider. Rocco had gone to the big house for five years on Ike's testimony. Ike no longer regretted having squealed, but now his only thought was to save himself. Ike took his revolver out of the drawer, and practised a few draws. His hands shook, and he cursed his inability to control them. The day dragged slowly on. Ike sat sullcnly, not saying or doing anything. He seemed in a trance. Mame paid no attention to him. She had learned her lesson. About ten o'clock, Ike aroused himself from his stupor. He pocketed his gun, and left the apartment. A car moved slowly away from the curb, near the corner. Ike knew the car contained Slick's men, going to tell him of Ike's approach. Ike set out for the saloon. His control had snapped, and he became aware of the darkness. He moved along warily, yet he was still blocks away. He began to mumble incoherently, and broke into a run. He turned down an alley, just one block from Slick's hangout. He slowed to a walk again. A dark shape appeared at the other end of the alley. Ike froze. He snatched out his gun with trembling fingers, fired, and ran to the prostrate form. He gloated. Well, Slick, I won. Ha, ha, hal He turned the body over and broke into a wild laugh. Ha, ha, ha! That's a hot one! It's only Gus Graziano, the old drunk. Ike snapped completely. He laughed wildly and fired into the air. Answering an urgent call, a police cruiser turned into the alley. A gun was leveled at the raving Ike, and he fell slowly, still laughing at his grim little joke. The police records called Ike's death justifiable homicide, yet the under' world knew he had been paid off in his own coin.