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

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Shawnigan Lake School Magazine as a result of his potations that I felt sure I should glean some most enlightening information. On entering the museum my attention was attracted by a fine, blue Belgian hare. I remarked on the excellence of the specimen, but Lapin would have none of it. Belgian hare, mon dieul Was it that I did not recognize the Welsh Rabbit when I saw one? Truly rare, but to be met with on the slopes of Snowdon where its colour would acclimatise, oh so nicely, with the snows. But I must regard the stuffed bird close by. A chef d ' oeuvre was it not? I agreed that it was a clever mounting of a wood pigeon. A wood pigeon? But where was my knowledge that I did not know the stool pigeon? This impudent rascal, was he not always hanging round the back door, where he had no busi- ness, in the hopes of picking up tit bits? Where, I asked, were the big game. It was only necessary that I should look at the floor, where I was at that moment standing on the skin of a bugbear. And what a terror he had been! And in front of the fireplace did I not see the yellow coat of a dandelion, which he had picked off on the veldt? My gaze was then attracted by a mountain goat, which, I suggested, he had shot in the Rockies on his way across Canada. But what insult that I should think it anything so common. For I should know that this was one of the almost extinct Jewish scapegoats my host had shot in Palestine. After this faux pas I became interested in a lynx, and not being sure of its genus I enquired of Lapin, who had no hesitation in asserting that it was a cufflynx. By the time he had shown me the tooth of a firedog and the scale of a snapdragon I was hard put to it to keep a straight face. In our perigrinations we had now arrived beneath a pair of horns. Lapin was momentarily at a loss, but the puzzled expression soon cleared from his face as he confidently asserted they were the horns of a dilemma. I mildly suggested a llama, surely. To settle the point he climbed up to read what was written below, but losing his balance he fell between two stools and then at last I could give vent to my feelings without hurting his. THE CONCERT UPON entering the big school on Saturday evening, the ninth of November, for the annual rag concert, we sat down and took stock of our surround- ings. The curtain, adorned with the School crest and colours, hung in front of the stage in the centre, while amidst the beams was the Star-spangled banner. A profusion of small flags covered the steps up to the stage and the side fixtures. We had just found out from our programmes that The League of Nations was the first tableau, when the curtain rose. A gorgeously arrayed Haile Selassie, seated on a throne, was holding his court of league delegates, who were grouped around him in a semicircle, with Mussolini himself only a yard from the monarch. His shadow sang a song of fidelity to Selassie, and Gugsa a song of hate to a number of delegates. When the court had filed out Selassie and Musso- lini heartily shook hands. When the lights went on again we could take stock of the spectators: Strathcona, a number of old boys and parents, and the school filled the hall. For the following four intervals two amateur rough-housers performed for us. One would enter by the window, door, or balcony, whichever proved con- — 28 —

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Shawnigan Lake School Magazine on his own thirty-yard line. I couldn ' t see who made that tackle; just a minute, please. Oh yes, it was Hector. Hector, number one for the Trojans, made that tackle, putting Ajax down hard on his own thirty-five-yard line. Now the Greeks have possession of the ball, so they are going into a huddle. They are out of it again. Achilles is calling the signals. It ' s a line back, Philoctetes carrying the ball and going hard through the centre of the Trojan line for a gain of two yards before being dog-piled. The referee, Mr. Zeus, is sending Philoctetes to the showers for being foul, so foul in fact that the ref . couldn ' t stand him any longer — At this point unfortunately my radio broke down and would produce nothing but squeals and grunts. I worked feverishly over it, but it was a long time before I could get it mended, and when I finally tuned in again the game was over. Well, folks, that ' s that! The Greeks have won by that final touchdown, scored thanks to the tricky fake play introduced by Coach Odysseus which got right inside the Trojan defences. That sure was a dandy piece of work. And now I am going to ask Mr. Odysseus to say a few words to you about the game. Mr. Odysseus. Good afternoon, everybody. I ' m mighty pleased we won, but it sure was a hard fight. That boy Hector looked mighty dangerous for a while, and I think maybe I made a mistake in putting Achilles on the bench at the beginning of the last quarter; but anyhow he c ertainly gave Hector the works when he got back in the game. He ' s a fine player is Achilles, though he was a bit worried by that poisoned ankle of his today. I kept that last play under my hat till the very end, because I figured it would have the Trojans guessing, but the boys sure put it over swell. There was only one Trojan left standing at the end of it — that little guy, Aeneas, who was quick enough to get out of the way. Thank you, Mr. Odysseus. And now, folks, just a word about Jason ' s boats. Remember that if you ever want to go fleecing anybody, first get an Argos-type boat with an Orpheus self-starter and all the latest fittings. It will never let you down. This is Homer speaking over station ILIAD. Good afternoon, everybody. M. LAPIN AGAIN I DID not feel it would be right to leave France, where I had been travelling, without paying my respects to Monsieur le Capitaine Lapin. In spite of his eccentric behaviour on the only occasion on which he went with our Natural History Society, I still had a high regard for him and for his intriguing nomen- clature of zoological specimens. When I arrived at his house the good captain greeted me in the affectionate manner of his countrymen, which made me immediately aware that he had omitted to shave that morning. Although the day was in its infancy he insisted on my sampling the bouquet of his most prized vintages, which had the effect of putting us on very good terms with each other and induced that pleasant, reminiscent mood, more often attained as the evening shadows lengthen. After dwelling on our Canadian experiences, by way of flattering my host I enquired whether he had any troohies of the chase to show me. But yes: of course he had. I must come at once to his museum. The captain was now in such splendid form — 27 —

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Shawnigan Lake School Magazine venient, and begin to play the piano, while the other would steal up behind and drag him out along the floor. When the curtain rose for the second item a heroine and her family were being turned out of their home, as she refused to marry the villain or pay the mortgage. The hero ' s intervention at the critical moment saved her life, after she had been laid on the railway tracks by the villain as the train, which actually materialized, was approaching. This was easily the best turn of the evening. In the next act we had an insight into what the average boy really imagines goes on in the Masters ' Common Room, how they apparently gloat over a boy caught doing wrong, what puns they make, and how they discuss co-sines. We also learned why a staff rugby team is not formed, and some of the excuses put forward to avoid playing. We then had a brief glimpse of Mr. Segar ' s characters, Popeye and Mr. Geezil, as they lunched at Wimpy ' s restaurant, while Toar stood in the back- ground. There followed a shadow play in which a patient was opened up with a hatchet and had many amazing things taken from his stomach. After the intermission we saw Caesar, who, after asking the omens of the haruspex and meting out justice to many plaintiffs, incurred their wrath and was murdered. As he was expiring, Surgery Ne-ow was opportunely called. A master and four boys, dressed for early morning rugby practice, demanded Koko from Mr. Gim, as they were getting old and the morning was cold. They also praised Tiny the strong and Cicero the trymaker. In the following act a butler admitted a stranger who, after a few formalities, obtained some plans from him by holding him up. By pretending to be electrocuted when opening the door, the butler got the gun and held up the stranger till his master arrived. The ninth act was an election scene, complete with inebriated local yokel chairman and hecklers in the audience. In quick succession we heard Messrs. Aberhart, McGeer, Woodsworth, Bennett and King, each with their several promises. The concert ended with community singing. We went behind the scenes to help dismantle the stage, but found the dangers from falling hammers, pieces of two by four, and such like too numerous, and so retired to bed. THE LIBRARY The following books have been added to the Library during the last year: Beggars ' Horses, P. C. Wren; Ships in the Bay, The Dark Mile and The Flight of the Heron, D. K. Broster; David and Destiny, Ian Hay; The Brother of Daphne, and Jonah Co., Dornford Yates; Jalna, and Whiteoaks of Jalna, M. de la Roche; The Jesting Army, Ernest Raymond; Raiders of the Deep, Lowell Thomas; Men Against the Sea, C. Nordhoff and J. N. Hall; King of the Khyber Rifles, Talbot Mundy; Two Black Sheep, Warwick Deeping; The Return of Bulldog Drummond, Sapper ; Celebrated Cases of Charlie Chan, E. D. Biggers; The Hash Knife Outfit, and Tales of Lonely Trails, Zane Grey; Over the River, and Maid in Waiting, John Galsworthy; Heroes of Modern Adventure, T. C. Bridges and H. H. Tiltman; The Arches of the Years, H. Sutherland; Birds of Canada, P. S. Tauverner; Oliver Cromwell, John Buchan; — 29 —