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Page 35 text:
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COLLEGIAN, 1937. THE LEGACY By Mary Ballantyne, 4A. Doris had obtained a position in Brown's large department store in Vancouver. She was to be a detective and to watch the shop- pers so that there would not be any unsolved shop-lifting mysteries. It was Saturday morning, a week before Christmas. Already the store was crowded and three women had fainted. Doris was wandering through the crowd when her attention was attracted to a smartly groomed customer, dressed in a black broad- cloth coat trimmed with marten. She was evidently buying herself a Christmas present. A pendant, she said, nothing fancy, but with one fine diamond in it. If you would give me some idea of what you would care to pay, said the elderly clerk. Well, I have just been left a legacy by an aunt and I thought I would rather invest the money in a diamondg then I can always have it with me. Safer than stocks, don't you think? Well, I want the finest diamond that I can get for five thousand dollars, if you have any that expensive, she said. Certainly, said the clerk, now anxious to make a sale, we carry diamonds valued from twenty-five dollars, say to a small fortune. I'm sorry our show-cases are all filled. The clerk then went away and got a dozen beautiful unmounted diamonds. These were always kept in a safe. Doris walked away, but then returned as she was interested in the legacy gift. How could the customer choose from so many beau- tiful gems? Doris thought. Hold that one up again, will you ? the lady requested. Now, let me see the diamond with the bluish tinge. The clerk, always mindful of the holiday crowds, kept the jewels at the edge of the counter. That is lovely, continued the customer. Pardon me, if I point. Try the next one, please! No, not that one. -she pointed the ungloved hand at a beautiful gem. Only for a moment her curved fingers moved over the jewels, but that was enough. As the clerk displayed a diamond in his tweezers, the neatest bit of palming known to crime took place. In place of the five thous- and dollar gem, a stone of the same size and Page Thirty-four STRATFORD, ONT. cut took its place. It all happened in the flash of an eye. Watching, Doris could scarcely believe her eyes. She thought she saw it, yet was she sure? Now, the customer's hand was cupped over her mouth, and Doris thought that she was rolling something in her mouth. Then the customer put her hand below the counter. All her movements seemed natural enough. During this time, the clerk was showing her a jewel. Finally, a bargain was made. The pendant will be ready for you a day or so before Christmas, said the clerk. Smiling and satisfied the customer went away. The clerk was busy rewrapping the diamonds, when he noticed that one did not seem to be the same texture as the rest. There has been a serious mistake here, he thought to himself. Doris rushed up to the counter. Mr. Black, the head detective, was also making his way to the counter. When he came to the counter, Doris noticed that he put his hand along the edge of the counter-then his hand was wiping his mouth. By this time, the clerk was frantically motioning to Mr. Black and to Doris to stop the lady in the black coat. She had already wormed her way through the crowds, almost to the doors leading into the street. Doris reached the lady first. Touching her sleeve, Doris said to her- Just one moment, Madame. Mr. Black arrived, and with as little com- motion as possible, the customer was taken to the manager's office and thoroughly searched. No trace of the diamond could be found. I don't know what my husband will say to this, flared the indignant customer. I cancel my order right now. There was nothing to do but to apologize to her and let her go. Doris was frantic. She felt that the customer was guilty. Hadn't she seen her with her own eyes? Yet, why didn't Mr. Black question her? Doris had made one mistake that morning and had been forgiven. She must go carefully now. Yet why had both the detective and the customer felt along the counter? The manager was now apologizing to her. 'Tm afraid the clerk has made a serious mistake. Those stones were probably switched before. Under the circumstances, you will understand that--a--er-it was a natural mis- take, if you'll accept our apologies- She flared up.
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Page 36 text:
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COLLEGIAN, 1937. I certainly will not. You haven't heard the last of this. Was she going to get away with it? Doris felt numb. Just then she noticed a lump in Mr. Black's right cheek. Was that it? Not a very large lump, but a lump. Doris made her way between the woman and the door, and slowly came directly behind Mr. Black. Then, with all her might, she gave him a whack with both hands between the shoulders. Astonished, the man staggered. Out of his mouth, as he gasped in amazement, flew a wad of something. Doris pounced upon it. Gum! She handed it to the manager. I think, she said, you'll find the diamond in this. Mr. Black and his accomplice made a break for the door, but were stopped by the manager. Doris did not wait for the arrests to be made, but continued her work in the store, secretly happy that she had discovered the author of the crime. FIRELIGHT DREAMS By Annie Adamson, 3A. As I sit alone in the twilight By my fireside's sinking flame, I weave strange fancies of delight, Tapestries that'none can claim. Gilded remembrance of long ago- The rosy dawning of what's to be- As I look at the fireside's dying glow Build dreams that are meant for me. This is my beautiful land of desire Of which I shall never be free, The great place I see in the fire, My strange world of fantasy! Mr. Fuller: But how could skin trouble give you a broken arm '? Moff. Forster: Well you see it was a banana skin-3' A woman, so someone says, is a person who can walk down an 18-inch aisle in a store without knocking anything from the counters, and then drive home and knock the doors off a 12-foot garage! STRATFORD, ONT. A MIDNIGHT FANTASY Junior Prize Story By Cynthia Carter, 2.4. A London fog is a strange thing. It is the best example of the difference between a mist and a fog. A mist is soft, feathery, cool- but not cold. A mist covers soft green things, such as trees in the springtime, marigold shoots, and smooth fields where wheat is springing up. It is a fairy-like thing, ethereal, entrancing .... A fog tespecially a London fogj is a dirty yellow colour. It is as cold as death-and as unrelenting. It covers dirty tenement houses, slate roofs, it makes it im- possible to see the tops of the buildings in the slums tthere are no treesj or the sloppy gray rain puddles in the streets tthere are no mari- gold shootsj or the cold gray pavements stretching out for miles ahead tfor there are no wheat-fieldsj . In fact, a London fog is an ugly thing. Because of such a fog, the Old Shopkeeper shut up his novelty shop earlier than usual, one damp evening in November, for it seeped into his little store and made everything seem drab, dull, and uninteresting. First, he put the large white covers over the bird-cages. Then he moved the Japanese garden nearer to the window to make way for the toy theatre. After that he shut the door, turned the key, and went home to bed. For a while, the novelty shop was very quiet, but the silence was broken by a gray- brown mouse that ran across the floor. Then another followed. This one began to gnaw at a piece of mouldy cheese that had fallen into a dim corner where it had been hidden by the dusty shadows that were always in the shop, and the little clicks of his tiny white teeth punctuated the stillness as sharply as a needle-point. One of the yellow Canaries was not yet asleep in its cage, and sat murmuring low soft notes to himself. The mouse had fin- ished its cheese, and was hunting for some- thing elseg and the old brown Grandfather clock was ticking quietly to itself as its bent hands passed around its face with quick jerky motions. It was a much-ornamented clock. On the sides of its giant case were two huge butter- flies with blue-and-green wings. A figure of Father Time was carved on the pendulum, his scythe moving with every second. Just below the face was the tiny figure of a clown carved out of walnut wood. He was dressed in a Page Thirty-five
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