Trafalgar Castle School - Yearbook (Whitby, Ontario Canada)

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28 VOX COLLEGII men, who appear to be arguing over something ' . They are standing on the platform of the Roller Boiler Coaster, and in front of them is drawn up one of the little cars. The manager of the railway, a huge, foreign looking man, is vigorously shak- ing his fist in the face of a vei y small timid little gentleman. I hear the big man say If you don ' t get your wife out of that car I ' ll have the law on you, yes sir ! and then you ' ll find out that you can ' t hold up this coaster all afternoon, just because your wife, she too fat to get through the dooi — tell ine, how in the world did she ever get in? After this narration, I turn my gaze to the object in discussion, a lady of huge dimensions who is vainly trying to squeeze through the little door. At last her husband strikes upon a plan and hurries away. In a moment h? returns with several workmen and a rude derrick, and soon they have her safely transplanted on the platform, much to the satisfaction of the mana- ger. Her husband turns to her and says : ' Jean Dickinson you were two and twenty years ago. and Jean Dickinson I wish you were to-day, for since T married you, I ' ve had more trouble trying to get you through doors than I ever had with my mule. Is it possible ? Jean Dickinson ? Yes, so it is ! As the ciirtain falls I say to mv- self T-Iow time and people change ! Mary Souch We all know that every day and in every way women are coming forward more and more to fill the positions of men but what surprised me most on my visit to the large city of Hampton in the year 1929 was the sight of female taxi drivers and female motormen on street cars. It Vv-as about noon when I boarded a north-bound car which was fairly crowded with these conductors and motormen going home for lunch. One of the motormen sat next to me. She was a tall, slim, fair woman with dark brown eyes. She reminded me of some- one I had once met and I seemed to re- mind her of someone too, for she kept glancing my way. At last I spoke and asked her name; she quite surprised ;inc by saying that her maiden name had been Mary Souch. 1 told her who 1 was and then we talked about ths years which had slipped by since our gradu- ation. Mary said she had tried the Cole Inisiness but after a few years ot happiness her husband had died leav- ing her with hvo boys whom she had taken lionie to her mother. For the past two years she had been one of the head motormen in the Hampton Rail- way Co. The car stopped just then and 1 liurried away promising to see IMary again soon. Miriam Eckert Naturally interested in parades, I craned and pushed and squeezed until I could see the approaching riot at the corner of Richmond and Dundas street, London. What a commotion it caused in peaceful London ! And no wonder, for it was headed by a short, stout, masculine-looking speciman of human- ity, who wore her hair sleeked back and screwed up in a knot from which short ends protruding under the severe black sailor hat showed her to have been at one time a victim of the flap- per ' s fad for bobbed hair. From the black skirt and the tailored shirtwaist with the black necktie and the nose glasses held in place by a wide black ribbon her type was revealed. Behind the champion of her caiise came the Hilton-Strothers band and then the standard bearers announcing to th world in red letters — Why cannot women l)o preachers! We want to preach ! Give the women a chance! This subject interested me so T fol- lowed the procession to Queen ' s Park,

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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

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vox COLLEGII 29 where the leader took up her position on a soap box on which was printed the words Good morning! Have you used Pear ' s soap? Then 1 understood why this woman wanted to preach, she could say more in five minutes than I have ever heard anyone else say in thirty. Her tones were deep and mannish — it was her voice that sounded familiar — where had I heard it? As she talked on and on suddenly I gasped — I had heard that voice from the platform of the chapel at O.L.C. at the Graduation Recital in 1923, when Miriam Eckert had recited the Doll ' s House. I turned away, overcome by grief for the dear girl who in her youth had been such a promising young creature and who would have made such a dear gentle little wife and mother had she not had her masculine side emphasized while taking dramatics at 0. L. C. Mary Doty After leaving O.L.C. in 1923, 1 one day decided to go back and visit the Collage and upon arriving who should be the first person I should meet in the Main Hall but my old College friend, Mary Doty. 1 was sitting in the reception room one day while 1 was there and Mary came in, so then I knew that my curi- osity would now be appeased. She told me that after graduating in M.E.L. she had decided to specialize in the sub ject of Mathematics. Mary had made good use of her time and had graduated from Victoria and also from a Univer- sity in Germany with honors in Maths. After her return to Canada she had wanted to put her learning to a good use so had put in application for a position as teacher in a University or College and had found that one of her wishes had been given her, because she was to be the Maths teacher at O.L.C. After spending a day or so at the College I was not at all surprised to learn that Mary was one of the most highly thought of teachers because of her cheerful and sunny disposition and her optimistic views of how the girls were getting on in their work and of their examination time. When I left the College I was happy in the thought that Mary had found the right place in the world in which she could be an aid and example to those who were her companions. Evelyn J. Beattie It was the year 1930 and I was stroll- ing along Miami Beach down in Flor- ida when suddenly I saw a tremendous crowd of people rush down to the water ' s edge and I beheld a tall, dark girl heroically rescue three children from out the angry waves, whilst the crowds enthusiastically yelled Bravo! Hurrah for Mme. Evelyn White, our famous bathing beauty! Then as we pressed closer we stared in astonish- ment for lo and behold we now recog- nized the slender form and face of our beloved class mate, Evelyn Beattie. We threw our arms around her neck and besought her to tell tis all she had done since she had left our dear Alma Mater, O.L.C. And in her characteristic fash- ion she told us of her wild adventures on the stage in New York, and all about the multi-millionaire who had seen her gliding through the water like a fairy mermaid and had engaged her as chief instructor for the Royal Life Sav- ing Society at Miami Shore. Leila .Hunter In the year 1934 i went upon an ex- tended tour of New York. One even- ing, finding myself all dressed up and no place to go, 1 decided to stroll along the Great White Way in search of amusement. After stopping in front of several theatres, and finding nothing of interest on the bill boarcls, I was about to give up in disgust when I no- noticed — The Winter Gardens Mile. Rosebud (Last appearance in America) This looked inviting, and I entered