R S McLaughlin Collegiate and Vocational Institute - Haggis Yearbook (Oshawa, Ontario Canada)

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B A D M I N T N C L U B G E R M A N C L U B BACK HOW: Les Bates, Richard Warnica, Ross Taylor, Henry Kolodciejezak, Doug Weeks, Martin Rich, Norman Dobney, Douglas Dobney, Ross Senkino, Mark Burch, Barry Gray, David Slater. SECOND ROW: Karen Johnston, Barbara Hadju, Catherine McLure, Pat Dierj Ginny Smith, ' Margaret Bryant, Anne Lloyd, Susan Neal, Sharon Hayball, Sandra Thompson ' , Gail Nugent! FRONT ROW: Linda Brett, Sharron Barkwell, Margo McNab, Heather Ross, Janet Meier, Rhonda Amey, Anne Louise Ross, Wanda Pudliss, Jo Ann Waddell, Debbie Wray. ABSENTEES: Doug Redknap, Reg Logan, Wayne Warnica. BACK ROW L-R: Eddy Hanowski, Bryan Markle, Barry Segal, Sue Mason, Jane Mason, Anne- Louise Ross, Ted Syperek. MIDDLE ROW: Mrs. Spector, Sharon Smith, Marie Zarowny, Anne Lloyd, Marg Bryant, Carolyl Yeo, Lois Bigwood, Karen Barna, Pauline Segal, Ingrid Vollmer. FRONT ROW: Jerry Addington, Chris Szulak, Nancy Bevan. Der deutsche Klub ist unter der Aufsicht von Frau Spector. Weil wir viel mehr Mitglieder haben, ist der Klub dieses Jahr ziemlich grosser als letztes. Wir treffen uns jeden zweiten Dienstag urn zwolf Uhr, und bie unsren Mittagessen haben vir viel Vergnugen. Zum Beispiel, manchmal erganzen vir ein Kreuzwort ratsel oder prasentieren ein kleines Spiel wie Rotkappchen. Am Weihnachten genoss der Klub Kuchen und Platzchen bei dem lustigen Singen und den Spielen. Oft singen wir auch beruhmte deutsche Lieder wie In Munchen steht ein Hofbrauhaus und Trink, trink. Bruderlein trink. Wir haben besonders viel Spass, wenn wir nur Deutsch sprechen und vielleicht ein oder zwei Fehlen dabei machen. Chris Szulak, Prasidentin

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Whit ' s a Haggis? The Scots believe it is the national Scottish dish. They make it with calves ' and sheep ' s livers and hearts, oatmeal and lard, (an ' mony ither interestin ' things). It is seasoned with onions, salt and pepper, and delicious Scottish spices. But we all know that Haggis is our yearbook. Haggis because we put so many peculiar things into it: Mr. Smialek ' s cartoon, Tom ' s punchcard, a new flag, Lloyd ' s can, etc. (A raither gran ' show in all.) We hope the salty humour ' s better mixed this year. How ' s a Haggis prepared? The food is chopped and mixed and packed in a sheep ' s stomach and boiled and served whilst pipin ' hot. Our book is planned and arranged and drawn and photographed and pasted and . . . and finally packed in big brown envelopes and sent to the printer (whiles a bit ower late). It ' s served to us bound in a guidly cover. Scots always enjoy munchin ' Haggis. And you ' ve enjoyed digesting this one. You ' ve already read the pictures and found your friends. You ' ve read the jokes - the anes ye ' ye come o ' er. The grads ' biographies are better seasoned, you have found. And having kept the best till last, you ' re finishing off with editorial. (Ye ' d better gang to a haid doctor if ye ' re readin ' this afore the rest.) Dinna have any indigestion, and let this keep yer appetite till next St. Andrew ' s Day. itf tpL -»-v-rt For some weeks now I have been brooding over an incident in which I was unfortunate enough to be involved. My antagon- ists struck without warning or mercy. Men, do not let this pass as an entertaining tale, but take it to heart and beware. I had just left a chemistry class and was proceeding with a dignity befitting a senior toward the library, when suddenly a grade nine girl dropped at my feet one of those curious pencil-cases which so many frosh carry. In an instant, every eye in the crowded hall was upon the situation. The frosh looked up at me in awe. I looked down at the pencil-case. Now at this moment any boy reading this will no doubt sympathize with me, knowing what was about to happen. On the other hand, any girl reading this will be gloating from sheer delight at my predicament. What could I do? Bending down graciously, I reached for the case. The frosh dove for it. I stood up without it. She stood up without it. Embarrassed, I reached down again, slightly less graciously. Again she grabbed for it, retrieving the case and giving me the most withering of stares, as if I had tried to steal the precious pencil-case. It seemed that by now the whole hall was quaking with freshman laughter. Red-faced, I threw back my shoulders and strode purposefully toward the library. Never had I been so humiliated! If you are a boy entering Grade 13, beware! Courtesy has no place between senior and frosh, for the treacherous young things will never lose an encounter. •£yOZ ca jiQ rriJz - ' 40