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

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ON HAVING NOTHING TO D0 My examinations finished and should be handed in,- The people round me study, in fact, they all have been Doing so for half an hour. Alas! I cannot follow their tedious occupation, For I left all books but French at home, in dread anticipation Of a tiring, gruelling, time-consuming, quite horrible ordeal, And I thought for sure that all my time would be completely sealed With verbs and authors, sight translation, I participe passe, And the hundred million other things we're s'posed to know each day. But now I'm done, I've checked and checked,' no error can there be! And I should like to study Latin and geometry. But woe is me! I cannot do, for of these books I've none . . . What good is it to me to have my French exam all done? Hence you will see, with chemistry, geo- metry and Latin All bearing down, reminding me that I am far from through, This morning I left these at home . . . at home just where they sat, 'n' Now alas, I sit and wait, for I have nought to do! R. Jones, XII. 0 My Impressions of the New T.D.H.S. flionourable Mention-Essayj September the third, 1950, I marched proudly up toward the flagstone terrace of T.D.H.S. situated on the southern slope of Tillson Avenue. There, I was greeted by a doorman who smilingly bowed and opened the door. As I stepped inside, I was met by a hum of pleasant voices mingling to- gether over the soft liquid mellow tones of Billy Ekstine. I walked freely, unhamp- ered by books, as a porter had previously relieved me of them. As I proceeded down the cool, wide corri- dor, stopping once for a cool tall glass of orangeade at the soft-drink booth, I peered into one of the many rooms, where plush- lined seats awaited their willing occupants. There, I noticed a new teacher writing on one of the huge blackboards. Changing her mind she pressed a lever and a sheet of new board slid in place of the other one, thus eliminating chalk dust and the weary work of cleaning. 40 I then proceeded to the second floor, taking advantage of one of the numerous escalators scattered throughout the build- ing. Nowhere was there confusion or commo- tion on this, the first day of school. Infor- mation booths were on each Hoor for stu- dents wide-eyed with wonderment and joy. Being a fourth-former I tried not to show my ecstasy over the chrome-finished labora- tories, where Mr. Sinclair would commence his teaching of atomic energy, the padded stools with their high backs and head-rests, the electric fans that would immediately remove any gaseous smell or odour, and the intricate and mysterious apparatus that would assist us in doing experiments in splitting atoms or making engines for jet- powered aeroplanes. From the laboratories I went next to the gymnasium. The skylight above afforded natural lighting, the yard-wide baskets would assist us in gaining needed points, and the padded walls and non-skid floor, all combined to make a gym each of us could be proud of. I ventured then, to the locker rooms with their wide, spacious closets complete with hanger and shoe shelf. The rooms were comfortably heated and nowhere was there any jostling or pushing. I visited next the Home Economics room with its beautiful Home Freezer, Bendix washing machine and all the accessories necessary in the up-to-date millionaire's home. Then I ventured into the Work Shop with its beautifully carved statues and models produced by the boys themselves. For the first few weeks of school, things went along very smoothly. I loved our Home Economics course with sewing and cooking, and I am sure the boys enjoyed their Arts and Crafts course, but there seemed to be no close harmony. No one A.B. would dare put L on the immaculate X.Y. polished desks. The live-foot span between desks eliminated tripping, and the two gyms even removed the friendly weekly quarrels between the boys and girls as to whose gym it was. Yes, strange as it may seem, by the end of September I was wishing for something I thought I would never want to hear again -that old familiar call of the desperate, To your classes! Clear the halls! Joyce Hibbert, XIA. THE TATLER

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4 W' The Mim- forth to kill and eat or be eaten. The pres- ence of these sounds destroys perfect silence. To the casual observer, a class during ex- aminations is an example of perfect silence. However, the frequent crumpling of a page, shuffling of feet and continued scratching of nibs and noggins exclude all real possi- bility of silence. The short pause after the prolonged clat- tering, clanging and grinding of an onrush- ing train may give an observer the sensa- tion of silence. It may appear to be silence, but it is caused by the utter distraction of the auditory channels and for this reason cannot be real silence. True silence can be gained only by a com- bination of quietude of mind and utter ab- sence of external disturbance. For this reason, silence is as rare as gold and is often. unknown to those who have riches. Peace of mind comes from a total lack of worldli- ness and freedom from pricks of conscience. Seldom can a combination of these be found in this tumultuous world. Therefore silence in its true form is unknown to the masses of people in the world. . Richard Rokeby, XIII. wi T 'BT tllonourable Mention, Short Storyj lt was many years ago, as men reckon time, that there lived in a small village of China a crafty miser. The Chinese have always been predominantly a poor nation materially-though they are rich in philo- sophical learning-and the village, where lived the miser was no exception. There were few, if any, in the poverty- stricken little community who were not under the shadow of debt to the ugly little miser. Among these was an old peasant farmer whose simple honesty made him feel obligated to pay the stupendous sum which Fate had caused him to owe to the shrewd miser. It was of no great surprise -or concern-to the people of the village that, when the old farmer died, worn out by life of hard, unceasing labour, the debt was still uppaid. Scarcely had the unimpressive funeral ended, when the miser left his home to take an inventory of the old farmer's simple hut. Perhaps, he thought, I may nnd some- thing of value to partially pay the debt, al- though not likely. THE TATLER u I His rich clothes furnished a sharp con- trast to the barren landscape of the country from which the inhabitants had striven for centuries to wring a pitiful existence, but his face, a dirty sickly yellow with deep wrinkles, blended perfectly with the dry, cracked soil as he approached the rude dwelling. He entered the little hut with an air of disgust and surveyed the few poor, simple furnishings. The miser was annoyed at the worthlessness of his late debtor's posses- sions. Surely, he muttered angrily, in his long, useless life he must have saved or acquired something of value. He had no friends or relatives on whom to waste money. He examined the table, chair, lamp . . . then began frantically to search every darkened corner-in vain! The miser felt that he was being cheated. Anger swelled within him and he kicked at the dirt floor. Seizing an ancient vase, inscribed as a gift from mother to son, he hurled it through the only window, screaming insanely, Sen- timental old fool! Villain! Thief! As he heard the vase smash on the hard rocks outside, into innumerable fragments, his anger was strangely satisfied, it cooled, and subsided. In the brilliant light of sun- set, he left the hut and strode home. Late that night, the miser vainly fought wakefulness as sounds of revelry drifted from the village into his room. Despairing of sleep, he rose, dressed, and hurried into the village, now bright with the light of many fires. Uttering an angry curse, he approached one of the conflagrations, the happy chatter ceased and the peasants stared at him in silent awe as he screamed, VVhat have you fools to celebrate that per- mits you to keep your superiors from their X pu slumbers. All seemed stricken with dumbness at his words. Answer me l shouted the enraged miser. O noble sir, answered one, bowing humbly, to-day, as some of us were re- turning from our daily labour in the fields, and as we were passing the hut of our late- departed brother, the gods showered a rare blessing upon us. Beside the road, in the shattered pieces of an old vase, scattered among the rocks, we discovered the great- est hoard of money any of us has ever seen. Gary Miller, Xll. 39

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11 F I ,VV I,-4 Q 1 Z WHEE ! ! ! by Anita Hall, XIII A National Highway For Canadians A subject of no little controversy in our controversial age is the subject of a national highway. It is a subject that has ,held its own in the national melting pot for some years now, and it remains nearly as hard and unyielding as it seemed when it was first set into the tire, though it might be said that considerable heat has been applied. The subject has held its own in a hard- pressed Parliament through tides of war, threatened war, threats of internal collapse, and the political spring tide of national elec- tion. lt seems that no matter what import- ant discussion is waging in the House, some insignificant member from some remote constituency of some remote province is bound to rise from his chair, clear his throat, and shout, Mr, Speaker, question please! Now, Honourable Gentlemen, ex- actly why should we not have a national highway? Such a question raises a stubborn prob- lem. Whether to, or whether not to have a national highway supposedly was decided during the course of the Second VVorld VVar. Finding an answer to satisfy our inquisitive gentleman is therefore, rather difficult, and not a little ticklish, for a subject that has hung for so long over the heads of our venerable authorities is bound to rule on their jostled nerve ends with an unpolished edge. First, the questioner could be told that a national highway is essential to national communication over the length of our vast dominion. In the event of war such a road would, in fact, be most vital. The German super highway, which gave excellent traffic circulation and provided almost impossible bomb targets, was a factual illustration of this use. Also, the tourist has long sighed the lack THE TATLER I of high-grade roads in Canada, and in view of the nation's dwindling monetary re- serves, any good new road is important be- cause it would increase the American tour- ist trade, which already is no small source of dollars. Another point to be made is that a highway between the provinces would foster good interprovincial relationships of which our nation, sprawling as it does over a wide area and supporting many differing indus- tries, has an urgent need. Then, too, a growing nation such as Canada needs some- thing of which it can be justly proud, some- thing to which we, the inhabitants, can point and say with chesty tones, Now this is our national highway. It would be like a new suit of clothes, and there is no doubt that johnny Canuck needs a new suit of clothes. VVhile mulling over the need for coast-to- coast highway we might also bear in mind the vast mineral deposits that were un- covered during the laying of the transcon- tinental railroads. No one then had dreamed of such hidden wealth, and who knows to- day what may lie beneath the roadbed of a new highway which stretches from one sea to the next and in its course passes through great regions that have never before been closely examined. The main trouble between us and our prospective road is getting the project off the drawing board and, as it were, onto the map. In short, the project would cost money, as most good things do. Such an enfolding artery as is now proposed would quickly pay for itself but the provinces, over whose rugged terrain the road must be laid have had no end of objections and, like cats and dogs bickering over the delicacies in a juicy bone, have reached little agreement. Any question regarding a national high- way is therefore a debatable one, and here- in, I believe, lies the greatest importance, the greatest service which the road can achieve. It is no small task to build this road, but it will be done. We all want it to be done. Through the bickering, the finan- cial problems, and the surmounting of large obstacles, there will come a new and broad- er understanding within Canada and among Canadians, and a fine new pulse will be felt which will travel unhindered along a great new artery-our new national highway. Donald Lee, XIII. 41