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

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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

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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

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THAT QUEER MR. GUSTON by Mary Fardella, Commercial Room Well! I never ..... Mrs Dowdy peered anxiously from behind her cur- tained window at the shabby old man making his way up the Petersons' walk. She was breathing quickly as her beady little eyes darted around, not wanting to miss a thing as she watched Mrs Peterson open the door and smilingly invite the old man in. Mrs. Dowdy then reluctantly let the curtain fall back into place, and with a disdainful sniff turned to face her husband who was working on some books. Weill Did you ever see the like of it before, Jonathan? Imagine those Peter- sons inviting that queer, dirty, old Mr. Guston into their home for dinner again! I just don't know what's gotten into their heads. Mr. Dowdy paused in his work and looked up at the tall, gaunt woman who was his wife. She was at least two feet taller than he, and he had always stood a little in awe of her. I don't quite know what you mean, my dear, he said. Do you mean that 'queer' Mr. Guston who owns that little junk shop down town ? Exactly, Jonathan! Mrs. Dowdy ex- claimed. Everyone in town knows he's queer and perhaps even crazy. Why, no one will have anything to do with him except the Petersonsf' Why yes, that's right my love, agreed Mr. Dowdy as he removed his glasses and peered through the window at the Peter- sons' house. Do you mean that he's over there now? I should say he is, sniffed Mrs. Dowdy, and this isn't the first time either. They have him in for dinner every Christmas and Thanksgiving. I know it's because they feel sorry for the old hermit, but on the behalf of the rest of our neighbours I think I will protest to Mrs. Peterson. After all, they should think of their respectable neighbours. And besides, everyone is laughing at them. I don't see how they can stand it or him. My, I've never seen the like of it! Two hours later Mrs. Dowdy was having trouble seeing out of the window, as dusk was falling, but when the Petersons' door opened she could see the old man was carrying a pie with him. It would certainly THE TATLER be a treat for him to have some good food. Everyone knew he always waited till cakes and bread went on sale to buy his, so that it wouldn't cost so much. Humph! An eventless week passed before Mrs. Dowdy heard of the poor, old junk dealer again, and this occurred while she was reading the town paper. There on the front page was a large heading. She gasped and jumped to her feet exclaiming, Jonathan, Jonathan! Come quickly and read this-right here on the front page. The news that startled Mrs. Dowdy had startled the rest of the town as well, for the heading read: Local Junk Dealer Found Dead. Leaves 510,000 Will. Yes, it was true. The poor, queer man whom the whole town had laughed at and pitied had' been found dead in his old shack that morning. Among his few be- longings a will had been found, and in it he had left his ten thousand dollars sav- ings, deposited in a city bank, and about which only he and the bank had known, to Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, his only friends in the whole town. A tone of unbelief crept into Mrs. Dowdy's voice as she peeked curiously at the Petersons' house and said- Well! I never ..... P SUSPENSE by Shirley Setterington, XIB It was a dark, foggy night. Everything was silent except for the howling of a lonely dog. The assailant crept nearer. He waited in the shadows until he was certain that he had not been noticed. Lunging forward, he grabbed his victim by the neck, covered his head with a sack, carried him to the basement, and threw him on the table. Quickly taking advantage of his victim's helplessness he bound him tightly, and moved to the other side of the room. Grasping a long gleaming knife, he slowly walked to where his victim lay squirming in fear. Raising the knife, he hesitated. How could he bring himself to kill one whom he had raised from a baby and treated like a son? But he steeled himself. Again he raised the knife and plunged it deep into the throat. There! It was done! Why did his wife always want chicken on Sunday? 39