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Page 3 text:
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94 THE COLLEGIATE life at the bottom of its cage. NVith nimible fingers Sally soon had it out and into her warm hand where it gave a few spasmodic jerks. She then afsked for hot water, and on being told there was plenty in the kettle, Sally, without hesitating, went to work. She held the poor little fellow over the moisft warm air and before very long his feeble flut- tering became stronger until he was at last able to stand erect on his spindly black legs. Sally ex- plained to her grateful but strange host that Goldy had had a bad attack of indigestion but reassured him that she was all right now. Mr. Whalker then told her that he could never thank her enough for what she had done, for Goldy was all he had in the world since his little girl had died ten years ago. Wfhen Nan had left them he and Goldy had come to this town, far away from recollections, and for the past ten years he had hated everything and everyone but Goldy. For one dis- pairing moment the girls thought that he would burst into tears. Checking himself he asked why they had come when everyone loathed him so much. The girls in earnest words tried to assure him that he was mistaken, for how could they loathe him when he would not let anyone become acquainted with him. They then expressed a desire to know him much better. Over the tea cups and delicious slices of toasted scones the girls in friendly tones told him all about the new gymnasium and club room, and even about the beautiful wicker furniture wlhich they had set their hearts on to buy. Do you know, you are the first person in t'his town to ever ask nie for a thing?,' he told them, as he bade them good--bye, and here is something l wish to give you to- wards your great plansf' He slip- ped a piece of paper into Sally'shand and then quickly closed the door as though afraid of thanks, and this is what they read DGMINION BANK I Feb. 25, IQZQ Pay to SALLY MCLEAN or order UNE THOUSAND- - -Dollars Ezra lValker H 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8- CLARA By ilIl.lI'jOl'l'C Pattrrsolz, SA Coll. 4 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 h E never really knew Clara very - well. She did not give us a chvance even if we had wanted to. Her ash-pale hair and colourless face semed forever hidden in some grub- by book. Perhaps that was what prevented us from realiziung how blue her eyes were. Vtle who hated books wondered a little why she did not attend the dances and proms. Burt Clara did not seem to care for men, as far as we know she was not dated once during the four years she was in our House. VVe were a confidential, friendly lot. VVe laugh- ed toge-ther at our parents' advising letters, our profs, abou-t our ambit- ions, our dean and our dates, but Clara went her own sweet way, treading a path just wide enough for her. Her past was as little known to us as why she was coming to college, or what her future would be. VVhen, as youth does, we made all those plans for after college, Clara just never seemed to enter in, be- cause we never could picture her as being able to do anything. Clara seemed to try to be friendly though, as far a-s her nature permit- ted, willing at any rate to write an essay on Voltaire or Darwin, that
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Page 4 text:
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THE COLLEGIATE 95 we never had time for, as far as that wen-t. But nothing very important came her way, for she seemed rather inadequate. She was just one of those girls who were going along. VV'e thought she felt rather out of it at times when we were talking about plans for some party we were going to throw at the Bluebird, but stopped as she entered. But she always put on a defiant air and gave a toss of her head making us feel synipaftheftic yet superior. She was harmless though, so we didn't mind. Clara was a year our senior at college and would graduate that spring. The diplomas were given out and when Clara got hers and left us with her few neatly packed clothes, with scarcely more than a careless good-bye and wave of her hand, we felt that it didnlt really matter. Mfaybe a fewiof us felt sorry, The world would treat her hard, poor kid , but really what could you expect? She would never know our successes and triumphs, oh well! Soon we almost forgot Clara except that occasionally a remark could be heard, Gee, I wish Clara were here to do this essay for Geary. But she had passed on into oblivion, or so we thought, and we continued with our dates, parties, studies and plans for the future. looming so neiar, circled with a gold- en halo of success. VVe were mod- est, but of course it was understood that laurel wreaths awaited us. The year whirled on, the exams came and passed, we all had hopes of honours and most did pass very creditably but with no outstanding bnilliance. just before we gradu- ated a letter ciame, plain, white, but which roused us like a thunderbolt. No, it wasn't possible, why even that had been beyond our wildest dreams. Perhaps the letter was upside down, certainly she, Clara, col ld not be there. But she w-as in ' ollywood and the letter was not upside down. Burt after a few seconds it seemed less wonderful, less like a fairy-tale, for really she had a- chieved nothing. She had just gone to Hollywood to visit an aunt and decided to try out in Vitaphone pictures. Reading between the lines she was just another extra girl among the thousands of teeming hopefuls. whose stars rise only to fall-all too soon. She wouldnot have a chance, of course not: it was too foolish to bother ourselves with- and yet, we were just the teeniest bit jealous, just a little dissapointed, and rather flattened by this letter. For certainly in the natural cause of events, Clara should be tapping a type-writer in some small office, or married to some perfectly ordinary man and living up in an apartment. She should not be in Hollywood. that Mecca of our dreams, even if she were an extra. Somehow. Clara and Hollywood and dreams just did- n't mix, just couldn't materialize. But why worry, Clara meant noth- ing to us. lYe had good solid fu- tures all mapped out. just what they were we can't somehow re- member. No more news was heard of Clara for months, and the few times we saw each of our friends there was too much to talk about without Clara. But somehow still in our minds there was a little wondering about that ash-pale girl whose quali- ties we were just beginning to realize. Her quiet unobtrusive 111211- ner, her sweet smile, her ready help, her yearning for our company and secrets which we never undersvtood, taking reticence and shyness for that manner that speaks plainly, Mind your own business. Wie did try to drive away that shadow, those memories of our carelessness, our neglect of this orphan, for later we learned her parents were dead. But, good heavens, why should it worry us? Didn't we have enough to do thinking about our jobs? So on we plodded and Clara entered our minds no more. She was for- gotten-forgotten did I say? Yes, but only for a short time. VVe were looking at our evening papers and-there on the theatrical
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