Trafalgar Castle School - Yearbook (Whitby, Ontario Canada)

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26 VOX COLLEGII shabby and I mourued over the chang- es in the store as I laboriously climbed the stairs, (for I am not as thin as 1 used to be). As I turned a bend in the stairs my eye lighted on a worn, faded, bent woman who was scrubbing the steps Murmuring Excuse me. I was about to pass by when she raised her faded eyes to mine. Suddenly her glance be- came fixed on the lapel of my new Par- is coat, and with a startled cry she gas- ped Who are you? where did you get that? I gazed at my lapel and found that she was looking at my graduation pin. That is my Ontario Ladies ' College gaduation pin, I graduated in House- hold Science in June, 1923, I answer- ed in surprise. Household Science. she cried, Are you Maisie Bowman? I am I replied, and hope so to re- main. ' ' Don ' t you know me? she begged. 1 was Grace Mooclie. Then together we sat on the stairs, (I regardless of my Paris coat), while she told me her sad life story and our tears mingled together in the soapy water. Two years after graduating she had married a clerk on Eaton ' s fourth tloor. They had lived happily for some years, but he, being of a naturally fickle and restless temperament had left her and gone off to Europe and she had never heard of him since. She had waited for him, expecting his return, until her finances had be- come in such a state that she had to seek work. She had gone to Eaton ' s because of the old associations, and had begged for work and this was all she coulcL get. My keajt bled for her, but she would let me do nothing to help her. I had to leave her there and I had a dinner engagement, but I prom- ised to return this next day, and we would talk over old O.L.C. days. As I went up Yonge street, I thought with deep sorrow of the fate of the proud and willowy Grace Moodie, and I wondered what were the life stories of many others of my classmates whom 1 had not seen since leaving O.L.C. Myrtle Nesbitt While visiting Algonquin Park in the summer of 1935, some of our party wished to explore the interior of the Park and a guide was hired for the trip. AVhen the time came for us to start a tall, thin woman appeared to guide us. She had short, straight, black hair and wore no hat. We walked miles, the guide leading the way and pointing out spots of in- terest. Something about her attracted my attention. Was it the way she ran her liand through the back of her hair while talking so fluently on points of interest? I could not tell until 1 heard her start to discuss politics with one of the men of the party, then imme- diately turn and correct a lady with regard to the number of calories pres- ent in coffee. It was my old room-mate Myrtle Nesbitt. Of course, why hadn ' t I guess- ed it before? Many pictures flashed before my mind of the times I had seen her stand before the Civics Class at 0. L.C. and give us the U.F.O. Platform; the times we had figured out the hun- dred calorie portion o Fish eyes or Maccaroni and cheese. I felt I must speak to her and find out all that had happ ' ned to her in the years since we left our Alma Mater. She remembered me when I told her who I was and told me a little of her life since we had lost track of each other. After graduating she had taken the position as chief guide at Algonquin Park. This position she held for two years, leaving at the end of that time to be married. But she found married life and housekeping very monoton- ous. Her husband held different poli- tical views from hers, attended the Presbyterian Church and simply would not eat a sufficient number of calories per day ; and so her adventure in mat- rimony not being all that could be de-

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vox C ' OLLEGII 25 His Majesty. She then entered politics, and by her influence in the Agnes Mc- Phail Uplift Society for the supremacy of women in the home, she had the law passed against women washing dishes and a contraband placed on grape wine that would pop the cork more than two feet in the air. In her old age she turned her atten- tion to gardening, raising garlic and angle worms. Her contributions to botany, zoology and cookery brought about thereby has baen one of the rea- sons she has gone down in history as one of the greatest benefactresses of her age. Marjorie Speers One Sunday morning 1 was motoring into the country and passing through a little village was attracted by the beauty of the chimes of a nearby church. My time was my own so T went into the church for the service. After a few minutes a tall, sweet- looking lady entered the church, follow- ed by seven small boys. They occu- pied the front pew, so I was able to watch them closely. The children were remarkably well behaved and took the g-reatest interest in the music. As I was leaving the church someone addressed me and I turned to see at my side the aforesaid lady, who to my sur- prise should be none other than Marj. Speers. She urged me to come to her home for lunch, and I was glad to do so. After lunch, when the little boys were all having their nap, or at least suppos- ed to be having it, and Marj. had wash- ed the dishes (she wouldn ' t tolerate a maid, as she enjoyed domestic ' activi- ties so much) she told me what great changes had been made in her plans of 0. L. C. days. She said that after graduating from O.L.C. she had gone abroad to study for concert work. Her masters had predicted a brilliant future for her but social successes had interf?red and so diverted her attention that she gave up her career and returned home. She could not decide which of her many suitors she prefei ' red so she gave up all thought of marriage. As her father and mother were both dead now, she was very lonely, so she determined to adopt a child. However, all the children who came in answer to her advertisement were so attractive that again she could not choose, but this time she took them all, and all boys. She told me the children ' s names, a few of which were familiar. This co- incidence was explained by the fact that she had called them in memory of her rejected suitors, some whos3 names I had often heard at O.L.C. She was very amliitious for one little boy, in- tending him to go to S.P.S. and be a civil engineer when he grew up. She kept herself young and fit by swimming in her private tank and Dy riding horse-back. She taught the little boys herself and all but one had won his l ronze. Marj. seemed very contented and judging by the order with which tilings ran. had retained all her old skill of managing. No doubt someday she will be very proud of her adopted children, and certainly the name ' Speers ' will not soon be extinct. Grace Moodie It was the year 1943 and I had just returned to Toronto from foreign coun- tries, where I had been been doing Bac- teriological research work. I left the new Union Station which had just been opened and decided to go up to Eaton ' s, as I needed some elastic and a few other trifles. Arriving at Eaton ' s, imagine my sur- prise to find only a two story budding in place of the large fine structure I had known. I went in and learned that the de- partment I wanted was on the second floor. T ' he-e weve now no elevators ny ( colat; rs and one had to u e the stnirs. Tlie articles were poor and

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vox COLLEGII 27 sired she had returned to Algonquin Park. There she has organized a num- ber of classes for the women guides and the two of the classes I remember her mentioning particularly were a class in Art Needlework and one in Public Speaking, so every woman would be able to fluently describe the beauties of the park. Our trip came to an end, and not wishing to lose track of Myrtle again I asked her if she would write me once in a while. Slowly shaking her head she said No, I write very few letters now. Once a year I write my husband to remind him to pay his life insurance premium but that is about all. Slowly I mounted the hotel steps and stood a moment to watch her retreat- ing figure. Wafted back to me on the breeze came the words clear and dis- tinct, sung in an alto voice, Charlie was my darling. Reva Richardson For I look into the Future, Far as human eye can see, And I see a mighty vision Of what Reva Richardson is to l)e. The years have sped by since I was a girl at boarding school, and I am now a matron of forty. I have never been in New York, and so decide that I shall take a holiday. I arrive safely at my destination, hav- ing had great experience in travelling in my college days, when I used to take the perilous journey from Whitby to Oshawa quite frequently. I find a suitable hotel, and after re- freshing myself, I stroll up Broadway to see the sights. I do not get very far before I find the street obstructed by a huge ladder. Half way up is a fat man or woman, I can hardly tell. Yes, 1 believe it is a woman, for her hair is screwed up in a tight Maggie Jiggs knob, at the back. This grotesque figure, that weighs, I should judge, around two hundred pounds, is wearing a pair of Peabody ' s Overalls. Two or three bright colored patches are inset in the side, to make the garment fit a little better. As I gaze up, watching with interest her studied movements, regarding the painting of a sign advertising Reduce to Music Records a huge drop of paint falls and hits me in the eye. Before I can compose myself, the of- fender has reached the ground, and is offering all kinds of apologies. Before I can open my eye I recog- nize something familiar about the voice of the speaker, and as soon as I can again use my optic, I see a face before me that I can not mistake. Though she boasts two dimples and a triple chin, it is unmistakably Reva Richard- son. My hand instinctively goes out to her, and forgetting my 1)lack eye, my ruined dress, and the sensation we are causing, I put my arm through hers, and together we walk back to my hotel to talk over old times. Jean Dickinson As I gaze at the curtains that hide from our view the things, and years that are to be, there is a slight move- ment, and slowly, the curtains draw aside, and before me pass the years. I am given a choice to look upon one day. in one year, and I choose Aug. 30, 1948. As the years roll by, I watch for 48, and as it crosses the page, I press a le- ver, and the year stops in front of me. As the days of the year are flashed quickly before my eyes, I occasionally recognize a familiar face, a graduate of ' 23. Fate, blind folded, is showering her joys and sorrows impartially upon us all, and many are the spheres in which we work. Finally, Aug. 30 arrives, and the scene I see before me, is one of colour, noise, and people, for the setting is the midway of the Toronto Ex. It is not greatly changed since we used to raid the side shows back in the twenties. Above the noise and clamour of the midway I heard loud angry voices of