Pickering College - Voyageur Yearbook (Newmarket, Ontario Canada)

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'THE VOYAGE UR 31 clapping in time to the music. I ventured a little closer and there was Cookie playing the base violin, more commonly known as the dogfhouse by us col' legians, As soon as she saw me she waived gaily and invited me to join her. I knew how much this sort of thing was frowned upon but there was no alternative, it was either do or die, so I did. I had always had an idea I'd like to play the traps and this was my big chance. just how long the din continued it is hard to say but when we finished there were only three couples left in the room. Rus and his girl were amongst the survivors. They looked a little tired and perhaps slightly annoyed. Ap' parently they had spent the better part of the evening looking for corsages that just didn't seem to have turned up. For once Rus did something for the good of the cause when he suggested we should all go to the Park York Hotel Cafeteria, a popular place after all college dances. I was greatly re- lieved to depart from the dance, for I was beginning to feel more than just foolish, after that mad episode with the traps. X On our way out through the lobby of the hotel, Cookie spotted an antique spittoon. She made some comment about it as we passed the desk. I knew this was leading up to more than we had anticipated. As soon as we reached the street, Cookie smiled prettily at Rus and said, Listen, Russell, I've always wanted an unusual souvenir from a dance. Will you be a dear and go in there and get that big, brass whatfchafmafcallfitf' But Cookie, I interrupted, It's out of the question, we'd end up in jail. I turned to speak to Rus but he was gone, gone after the spittoon. I hesitated a minute, told the girls to get in the car and start the motor. When I reached the lobby, Rus, alma mater's all star quarterfback, was in the midst of an endfrun around the bell boys with the spittoon under his arm. Then he spotted me and threw a forward pass across the nowfvacated lobby. I don't know how I caught it, it's always been a mystery. I tucked the spittoon under my arm and for the glory of Walla Walla, ran around and around in the revolving door. No sooner did I get outside on the street, than someone tackled me. It was Sam Baker, he thought it was a real game. We picked ourselves up with much difficulty and climbed quickly into the car. With the skin scraped off the end of my nose and the knees out of my trousers I was a fine sight. Cookie thought it was a tremendous joke, every time she looked at us she laughed more heartily. As we pulled away from the curb there was the sound of crinkling metal and breaking glass and the front tire went flat. In our haste to get away we had left the spittoon on the road and then Cookie had to drive over it. Some two weeks later I was looking over my expense account which inf cluded one new innerftube, an antique spittoon and a five dollar fine for disf turbing the peace. I sat back and thought of the innocent, woe-begone, little girl that was the cause of all this. And then I thought of Russ remarks the next morning, one of which was outstanding. I've never seen a girl like that turn up more than once in the life of any student.

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3 O 'TH E VOYAGE UR corsage of orchids for the dance. And what are we going to use to pay. our hotel bill? I asked. I'm no piker, the sky's the limit, and we'll wash dishes all day. Only an hour late we arrived at Cookie's house. As usual I had to interview the whole family before I even saw the girl. Eventually she ap' pearedg a rather woefbegone looking girl wearing a small, ridiculousflooking, green hat with a long, orange feather stuck on top of it. Then it dawned on me that something was wrong, before I could say anything she broke the silence by asking me why I was late, why I looked so uncomfortable and above all why I didn't tell her it was a formal dance. I started to explain myself in a most awkward fashion and at the same time I figured I was making an awful fool of myself. Cookie saw my difficulty and decided to help out by making some remark about waiting around while she got ready all over again and concluded by telling me to discuss politics with her father, she was sure he wouldn't mind. About an hour later she was ready and we were on our way to the dance. Rus' girl was very thoughtful and sweetly reminded us of the promised orchids. We stopped at the first, likelyflooking, flower shop. Rus and I entered a little cautiously, having learned from past experience that it was too expensive to bring a girl into any place like this. How much are these corsages with orchids? I inquired. You can get a cheap one for three dollars, said the florist, But if you want something nice it will cost you five. That's just fine, old man, and how would you like to buy some rat poison? I pulled out an old calling card and presented it to him. Any time you're out our way look us up and we'll give you a sample. With that I barged out of the store almost dragging Rus behind me. When we got in the car Cookie asked a lot of questions and wanted to know when she was going to get her corsage. I had to think fast, so I told her we were having them sent to the college. I know she didn't believe me, but it was a good story and I was stuck with it. Some two and a half hours late we arrived at the dance, having just missed the supper and over half of the dancing. As soon as we were on the dance floor Cookie wanted to meet the headmaster claiming she had always wanted to call a headmaster by his Hrst name. I told her it wasn't quite the thing to do but it didnlt help matters any. It wasn't long before she spotted him and asked Is that him, the little fellow over there in the corner? I nodded and the first thing I knew she had me in the reception line. Pardon me, sir, I said rather quietly, I would like to introduce you to .... But Cookie was gone and I felt, and probably looked, quite foolish. Excuse me sir, I said rather awkwardly. I seem to have lost something so if you'll excuse me I'll go and look for itf- After which I wandered over to the door, as nonchalantly as possible, and made a hasty exit. A half an hour had passed and still no girl. Some of the gang were beginning to make wise cracks about how nice it was to be single and all that stuff. Having composed myself to the best of my ability I decided to make the best of it and returned to the party. The band was playing the Big Apple but no one was dancing, they were all standing around the orchestra

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32 THE VOTAGEUR 0 POETRY - 99 66 Yearnin by ll. la. LEWVIS Some day, when life is not so young,- We'll return to Pickering in june. Once more to see, to reminisce And to envy newcomers- greet old hoys Who,-looking hack, with longing still To tread again the soft green sward Growing so lush and plentiful around Our new freshflooking school and campus, Cannot remain. This very lawn once We ourselves helped wear thin- On the playing fields in many a game Against worthy foes we strove for victory! We must depart . . . The evening sun like memory Illuminates the pinnacles of our small heaven. THE HAIDDEIQ MEMUIQIAL ESSAY CUNTEST N WEDNIESDAY EVENING, june R, Sir William Mulock was present at a dinner given for the purpose of presenting prizes to the winners of the Henry Alhert Harper Memorial Essay Contest. This contest was in an essay form, with prizes given for the hest essay on the life and ideals of Harper as set forth in the hook of Harpers life, written in 1906 hy our present Prime Min' ister, the Rt. Hon. Mackenzie King. Sir Williains purpose, in donating these prizes, was to hring further hefore the youth of today, the wholesome idealistic views of one who lived and died with honour. The awards were in the form of hooks to he given for the hest essays from the five various age and academic groups into which the whole school was divided. Mr. Mackenzie King expressed his regrets hoth hy telegraph and telef phone at his inahility to he present when the awards were made. Sir William, however, personally made the presentations to each of the winners, interspersf ing his congratulatory remarks with hoth wit and friendy humour. The best essays were those written hy Gordon Hay and John Hall, with Honourable Nlention going to Edward Mack, Charles Lanier and Barney Apple.