Shawnigan Lake School - Yearbook (Shawnigan Lake, British Columbia Canada)

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Shawnigan Lake School Magazine Cooba! he shouted, holding up two fingers so that they should not mistake him. But the three needed no asking. They leapt into his seven-seater Packard, and amidst the jeers and curses of their former well-wishers, they were jerked forward by their rescuer, Antonio Parrado, only to find that they had ex- changed the frying pan for the fire. On he drove (they knew not where and cared even less) furiously and yet more furiously like some modern Jehu, now keeping one side of the road, and now taking the other, with an occasional Give ' er ten down the middle. Steady! screamed Mr. A, what the do you think you ' re doing and where the do you thing you are going, anyhow? Long live De Cespedes was the reply. And curses on Machado — we ' ll have him yet, he continued, shaking his clenched fists so violently that the car bethought it of taking an angle of ninety degrees at 5 6 m.p.h. Steady you crazy , yelled Mr. B. Ah ha! came the reply. Cooba is free at last. Machado — he no good; De Cespedes — very good. I don ' t give a heck whether Cooba is free or not, said Mr. B. All I know is you are far too free with this automobile. But these reprehensions only added fuel to the fire until all at once a sud- den application of the brakes brought them to a standstill outside a decorative building. I have brought you to the famous bar of ' Sloppy Joe ' , said the taxi-man; all visitors to Cooba begin their tour here. And so, only too glad to quit their speed- ' bus for a while, the three travel- lers vied with one another in their generosity at the bar. Thick and fast flowed the Bacardi cocktails and the gin fizzes, until Mr. A noticed that the latter state of the chauffeur was slightly worse than the first. Now tell me, he said to him, what is all this trouble in Cuba about? Sugar, replied the man before Mr. A had finished his question, — Sugar, sugar, sugar — too much sugar. I don ' t quite get you, said Mr. C. Do you mean there are too many pretty women in Cuba? If so, I am inclined to agree with you, if I am to take the women I have seen so far as any criterion. Oh no, no, no, he replied, laughing. What I mean is we cannot sell all the sugar we produce in Cooba, and the government — they are devils. But sugar seems to be an odd reason for starting a revol . Bang, bonk, bang, came an interruption from outside. What on earth was that? continued Mr. C. without waiting for a reply to his original question. But even his second question was not answered, for the taxi-man had rushed out, followed closely by the three visitors, to find a street-fight raging round their car. Hurrah boys! shouted Parrado, or the equivalent of it in Spanish, throw- ing himself into the thick of the fight. Bullets whizzed hither and thither; barricades were thrown up; the butt-ends of rifles were swung in every direc- tion; clothes were ripped from opponents ' bodies; houses were fired ' ; stores invaded and broken up; missiles thrown from the housetops, telegraph wires torn down and all the excitements pertaining to a revolution perpetrated.

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Shawnigan Lake School Magazine Chapel Notes THE Confirmation Service was held in the Chapel on Sunday, March 5 th, and was conducted by the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Columbia, who confirmed the following boys: D. F. H. Corbett, F. D. L. Crofton, F. H. Davis, J. S. Humphreys, R. L. Lake, R. L. Macleay, D. E. Maxwell, J. R. Maybee, V. G. Motherwell, P. C. Musgrave, P. J. Paterson, J. W. Reynolds, J. C. Smith, J. P. Torland, C. G. H. Tupper, W. W. Watson, C. H. Wilson. There were also four candidates from Strathcona Lodge School. Celebrations were held in the Chapel during the Summer Term by the Lord Bishop of Kootenay and Rev. N. E. Smith. The preacher on Whitsunday was Rev. J. S. A. Bastin. Members of the Oxford Group Movement visited the School at the end of March, and an address on the movement was given in Chapel on March 26th by G. Majoribanks. The Reverend H. F. Napier is very kindly acting as School Chaplain and commenced his duties in September. Our grateful thanks are due to Lady Lake for her very generous gift of two oak Hymn Boards and number cards. STORM OVER CUBA ONE sunny day in August, 1933, the passengers on board the good ship P A found themselves drifting slowly into the harbour of lovely Havana. Soon, everything on board was rush and excitement, for they had heard there had been trouble in Cuba. Would they be allowed to land? or would they be told to continue their voyage with many regrets? Meanwhile the ship came to a standstill and began to list hard ' a-port ' as the passengers leaned over the rails to cast their superfluous riches to the diving- boys below. Great fun said they, and greater still if they could get two to fight under water over the same dime. News came at last, in the early afternoon. No cargo was to be unloaded but passengers could land. Off ran Mr. A, Mr. B. and Mr. C and before they had left the quay they were beleagured by a mob of optimists who tried to foist their wares upon them — and so cheap! Tobacco, whisky, trinkets and even greater delights were to be had, almost for the asking. Gott Strafe these people, said Mr. B., after failing for the first half-mile to rid him of the nuisance. Here, here, agreed Mr. C. There, there, echoed Mr. A, feeling more kindly disposed toward them, but voting them an equal nuisance. However! Patience was rewarded, and Fortune, who ever seeks to favour the brave, caused another insistent advertiser to join the throng, but, this time, in the shape of a taxi-man. For two dollar I show you all the sights of

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Shawnigan Lake School Magazine As for the tourists, they were divided in counsel. Mr. A vowed it was the one moment he had waited for all his life and lost himself in the melee. Mr. B thought it his duty to mount guard over the automobile, and he had not long to wait before he received a luscious fig in his left eye. But Mr. C cared for none of these things; he slunk into the car and hid himself on the floor and hoped for the best. At last Mr. B grew tired and seeing Parrado quite near, he summoned him. Almost at that moment Mr. A returned, like the hero come back from the wars, with his face cut, a blue-black eye, a thick ear, and his trousers about a quarter of their original length. But he had at any rate enjoyed himself. Here, you: said Mr. B to Parrado, drive us out of this mess; I guess we didn ' t come here to fight over sugar-knobs. But for another ten minutes his efforts were useless. On rolled the battle until the skies which had been growing grey all along and had at length changed their greyness for a cloak as black as pitch, took matters into their own hands and burst in torrents on the warring streets. The lightnings gave shine and thunders rumbled over- head, and nature alone could finish what man had begun. Back rushed Parrado with the rest of his partisans and made for shelter as fast as he could. Now take us somewhere quieter, said Mr. C when the storm had cleared, and let us see some of the less sugary sights of the place. So off he drove even faster than before with an occasional halt — when he would rush up to some comrade and, flinging his arms around him, shout, Long live De Cespedes and the revolution! Beyond that he really did take the tourists to see the sights of Havannah, which included besides the National Hotel and Morro Castle, the cemetery, the mortuary (in which the mangled corpses of Machado ' s former supporters were produced from refrigerators and exposed to view!) and Par- rado ' s wife and family. And so eventually back to the ship as the shades of night were falling. Among the passengers were to be seen the ex-vice-president and the ex- secretary-to-the-treasury, dejected and humiliated refugees. How are the mighty fallen? said Mr. B as he went over to talk to them. Later he went to dinner with them and as they were sitting down to table Mr. B asked, What is the real cause of the trouble in Cuba? Sugar! replied the ex-secretary-to-the-treasury. We could not get enough sugar produced in Cuba to pay the necessary taxes. Ouch! the ex-vice-president screamed as he sat in his chair. What can the matter be? said Mr. C as he jumped to his help. A pin! replied the dignitary somewhat sulkily. Ha ha! laughed Mr. C. How lucky you are! That is a good omen por- tending your eventual return to power. Don ' t you know the old saying: ' Blessed is he that sitteth upon a pin for he shall surely rise again ' ? And so the evening wore on and brought an eventful day in the lives of Mr. A., Mr. B and Mr. C to a close. Sic transit gloria mundi, said Mr. B. to Mr. C as he wished him goodnight at his cabin door. I don ' t know about the gloria mundi, replied Mr. C, but I fear the rest of the voyage will be sick transit for me after that sight at the mor- tuary!