Tillsonburg District High School - Tatler Yearbook (Tillsonburg, Ontario Canada)

Page 39 text:

X X -ess X Y X Q- i G-1 CAST OF THE FLORIST SHOP E. Moon, J. Cowherd, V. Vance, E. Malecki, W. Hoyle. HEROES IN THE CRISIS by Amelia Gerhardt, XII This year our Alma Mater was honoured by the attendance of Mr. and Mrs. Odori- ferous P. Skunk and relatives. For days that seemed like years the inhabitants of our annex were miserable. Each day seemed impossible to bear. Detentlons were trivial compared to this continual torture. In desperation one figure in our hall of fame produced a device to lessen the pain .... AIR WICK. In compassion, Jerry liberally spread the disinfectant. There is, however, only one sure Way to stop such discomfort: Stop breathing! Mr. Kirkwood told us his troubles in geometry period one day. The skunks must go! The discussion was in full swing when Marilyn suggested shooting them, which had been the fate of the one in their cellar. Mr. Kirkwood asked whether the family went for a week's vacation to Florida. Enter our heroes. Mr. J. Culp waved a limb at Mr. Kirkwood and suggested: THE TATLER Why not set traps for them ?l' Bill Eichenberg: We've caught four or five that way. Mr. K.: But I'd be afraid of catching somebody's dog or cat. Might break its leg. Bill: Oh, no. I've caught several cats. Mr. K.: I know a man whose cat's missing. Jack: You get 'em on the end of a long pole and bury them. It's cruel but they don't ..... you know what. Mr. K.: You've got a job! Bill: Ive had experience and I don't want the job! But as it turned out, our Damon and Pythias could be seen next day in P. T. period looking over the terrain and plan- ning their attack. The same day two malicious devices called traps were posted in the yard. Teachers and eager students left the factory of knowledge between four and six. Some spent the evening listening to the radio, some went to the show and some probably even did their homework. At 10:30, however, our heroes' phones 37

Page 38 text:

born lawyerg with his mental gifts he couldn't fail. But in High School something happened -it wasn't serious at first: his standing dropped slightlyg his average dropped a little more than had been expected, per- haps because of Joe's poor showing in art and music, which had never interested him much. In Grade X, he started the study of Latin which, because his aptitudes failed to cover the subject, caused him his first failure. At Easter, Joe's marks were still on the decline. In desperation, he labored harder on his voco, vocare 's, only to find his other marks slipping. Joe passed into Grade XI that year fhaving to repeat Latin and another equally important subject howeverj. By the time he reached Grade XII, he was faced with two equally hopeless al- ternatives - first, taking a commercial course which would not enable him to enter University for the dreamed-of degree in law, and secondly, the inevitable leaving of school. Disheartened, Joe X chose the latter. Genius, say so-called wise men,. will not be denied, but will manifest itself under any conditions or circumstances. In Joe's case, we sincerely hope this is true. But, unfortunately, like so many of his kind, Joe will probably reach his unescapable pounding nails, sweeping fioors, digging ditches. Why are intelligent minds like Joe's, predestined for greatness, lost to the world? Joe failed to reach his far-distant, shining goal because he failed in Latin, a subject which is not even necessary for his law course, yet which, on the High School curriculum, today is a compulsory study . It's like losing a two-hundred- pound lineman who can tackle and block like a tank because he can't catch a pass or do broken-field running. One feeble argument is: Well, it's nice to know how to do, even if you never use it, and it might come in handy someday. Might it not also prove useful to be an accomplished orator or be nice to be able to run a ten-second hundred? If one has no ability in these fields though, it seems ridiculous to waste valuable time and effort trying to reach a reasonable degree of proficiency in them. It would be far better for one to spend ones time profit- 36 ably developing some phase of activity for which he has a capacity. The army stressed this by a series of tests, designed to determine the abilities, aptitudes, interests, special skills and gen- eral I.Q. of each new recruit. Every man was put in the job best suited to his qualifications. Finding the right work for each soldier was the important thing. Individualism was foremost. Isn't a place for every man and every man in his place a fundamental of democracy? Yet no individualism is shown in a school where those, like Joe X, working and studying to be lawyers, take basically the same course as those who will some day be their secretaries, servants, and chauffeurs. They tried to make Joe a Jack-of-all-trades and, as usual, he ended up a master of none. In re-reading this essay, I find I have reached a point of exaggeration to some degree. Perhaps this is forgivable, in that, of all the many modern problems, it directly affects you and me. In any case, I hope that I fand Joel have opened up a pathway which will enable you to form your own ideas and conclusions about one of to-day's most perplexing questions: Should some of the compulsory subjects on the high school curriculum be abolished? i f No! Noi M-as Grieve, l' h Ji so-mv-.19 for +s.4'1'a9I4f! ff! 1 ..6' rack' Q if if 0 it 4- f , Fl' mtmgaisilsgsf 1' Glory lmfkerduhyoa THE TATLER

Page 40 text:

rang and came the fatal message, You've got one. Our heroes climbed out of bed, donned their skunking costumes and got to work. Precariously the trapped victim was trans- ferred to the end of a long pole and taken to a safe distance from the buildings. Then Jack raised his .22 to his staunch shoulder. The skunk looked at him be- seechingly. Jack aimed. His finger moved. Bang !-He missed! Wiping the perspira- tion from his brow he tried once again. He couldn't miss twice at such short range, and neither would the skunk. This time the animal was put out of his misery. fBut not so Jack and Bill.D Next morning the corpse had to be dis- posed of. If not, those curious dogs out there would not receive a welcome at home, nor pupils either! A quick con- ference was held, and it was decided to honour the deceased with cremation. Slowly, sadly, scarcely breathing, the procession proceeded as the body was taken to the boiler room on a shovel. The door of the blazing furnace was opened. Silence reigned, and with bowed heads the executioners performed the final ceremony. Thirty-six hours later the second un- suspecting victim faced our one-man firing squad right on his own doorstep. Later this proved unfortunate, for his home was under the gym in one of the ventilators. He in turn was also cremated. - The bell rang as usual that morning. But slowly his last efforts began to seep, by way of the ventilation system through the whole school. The pupils were loath to leave their posts at the windows, where existed the only breathable air. Both teachers and students were pale. Only the strong survive. Some passed out. None could concentrate. At 9:30 the teachers gave up. As the little angels sat there holding their noses the sweetest message fell upon their little ears. Mr. Kirkwood's head ap- peared at each door in turn and announced, You may go home. Take the rest of the morning off. There was only one thing wrong. He forgot all about the fourth and fifth forms. Even the heroes received no pity. We made the papers too. The Free Press took pictures of le lycee and the surrounding terrain. In the afternoon The Telegram shot Jack and Bill several times -photographically speaking! ' When Mr. Sinclair was informed of 38 r I i A. Gerhordt these goings on he commented, Oh, I don't like that. I don't like the smell of it! But then he lives in the Lab! , A GARDEN RAINBOW fWinner of Honourable Mentionj A rainbow's in our garden plot: Enchanting hues of spring's surprise Beautiful tints I had forgot, A welcome sight to greet the eyes. buds and birds and blossoms gay bursting forth in bright array. crimson splash of robin's breast I For Are The Beside the sombre berry patch, The orange flash of oriole's wing High up, his long pouch nest to thatch, Blend neatly with the swaying plumes Of yellow dajjfodils in bloom. A pastel green clothes bush and tree While emerald shoots push through the earth. Upon a branch in brilliant blue A bluebird trills his song of mirth: And near the path in leafy mounds The purple violet abounds. Thus as the birds do flit about And mingle with the flowers of May, The colours flutter in review And form a rainbow every day: The promise comes to men of earth, Each spring will issue in new birth. Noel Mason, XB. THE TATLER