Trafalgar Castle School - Yearbook (Whitby, Ontario Canada)

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Senior Class Prophecy, cont ' d. pupil. Joan, a coloratura soprano, had hit high I , the sound 1 had mistaken for a bell. At the end of the long corridor was the office, and at the sound of many typewriters I looked in. Three of the stenographers 1 recognized as Hazel Mitchell, Sonia Robertson and Kay Reeves, while the bookkeeper was Perla Audai. Thirty-five girls in all I had renewed acquaintance with, even if a little indirectly or in an unexpected place, but seeing them or their replicas brought so many happy experiences of O.L.C. While the sun was still shining I made my way to my helicopter and spun out of the laneway waving goodbye to the senior class of 1950. Vivien Beach ALICE AT O.LC. Chapter 666 (Being part of the Dean ' s Senior Dinner Speech — April 28, 1950 — with apologies to Lewis Carroll ) It was a glorious Saturday afternoon in May, and, in spite of exams so close at hand, one could not resist the warm invitation of the spring sunshine to sit outside and soak it up. Alice took her book out to the front steps, tucked herself into a corner, and rolled down her stockings contrary to explicit instructions of the old Dodo (excuse it, she means the Dean). She opened her book, found her place, and started to figure it out: The vertex of a parabola bisects the segment of its axis cut off by the tangent , but the sun was so bright, and the parabolas swung round on the page like crazy comets ( Don ' t overdo this business of trying to study out in the sun, girls, — this was the Dean, of course — you ' ll ruin your eyesight ). The vertex of the umbrella . . no, that wasn ' t right, but why bother . . The air was so deliciously fragrant . . . mmm, those lilacs . . . that she closed her eyes the better to enjoy it. Horrid old exams, she thought, why do they have to spoil the springtime? Yes, said a gruff, but not unsympathetic voice, but life is like that, and we have to be ready to be tested at all times, bad and good. Life isn ' t all basking in the sun. There are cold nights and stormy days as well, and we must provide against their coming. Believe me, I know. So we must not only learn, but be ready to have our knowledge put to the test. Alice rubbed her eyes and looked around. Well, who, of all things, she said, who ever said that? Not a soul was in sight, but she thought she detected a secret smile on the face of the lion on the pedestal across from her. She leaned forward to have a better look. Ugh, said a still gruffer voice. Look out, you have your elbow on my tail. Alice started, and regarded the sleeping lion with amazement. Why, Dopey, old fellow, she said, can — can you talk? Certainly I can, when there ' s anyone worth talking to, replied Dopey, yawning. Thank you, said Alice, that ' s a compliment I take it. You can take it, or leave it, said Dopey, not unkindly. It ' ll be all the same in a hundred years, and he closed his eyes and went sound asleep again. Alice appealed to his more alert companion. I ' ve never, she said, in all the time I ' ve been here, seen him awake before. Why is he asleep like that all the time? That ' s easy, said Leo No. I, that ' s because you are a good little girl, and good Page Twenty-four

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Senior Class Prophecy, cont ' d. grounds where I met a few old friends, Danny (Jo Scott ' s old grey mare) professionally cutting the grass: Muriel Baker applying a starch test to a geranium leaf: and Ann Duncombe, who was artistically arranging her bouquet of freshly cut flowers in the bird bath. The beautiful landscaping I learned had been under the direction of Pro- fessor of Botany Wendy McLaughlin, who although a little girl, had high ideas. Barb McCormack helped Wendy with her designs. Inside I was again surprised to be met by the head of nurses, Miss Gloria Budd, and her assistants, Miss Marilyn Lytle and Miss Marilyn Davis, who added to our touring party. The hospital had been turned into quite a vocational help and my tour wandered from one occupation room to the other. The first was the school where the younger inmates were under the capable direc- tion of Miss Joyce Clark, renowned for her teaching ability and especially for teaching her students correct carriage and posture. Several of the young students had very familiar faces and upon questioning I found they were the daughter of Mrs. Doug Knowler (Barb Gage) and the identical twins of Mrs. Peter Tobias (Kathleen Lake). The next room I was privileged to admire was the music room, where Miss Rita Donaldson, B.A., A.R.T.C., Mus.Doc, etc., was leading a group in musical apprecia- tion. Helping Rita, I found the familiar face of Miss Rosemary Howey, who also hailed in teaching public school. The sewing room was my next to encounter, and here found many busily working at skirts and blouses, being helped and guided by a world renowned seamstress and artist, Miss Gwen Lake. The child having a most pitiful time with her dress was Jeanie Wilson (daughter of the former Jean Dougal). Up to this point my excursion had been only to the rooms for the quieter patients but as we neared another, from the noise I gathered it to be the gym for the over active patients. In charge Lyn Rutherford, spry as ever was showing a pupil how to throw a baseball, while in another corner a harshly tempered little lady was shouting track at the top of her voice — naturally it was Lesley Taylor (of Maniwaki) showing how to slalom properly. Every hospital has it laboratory and I learned that this institution had one of the finest. Ruth Corlett and Jane Farlinger joint winners of the Nobel prize for scientists in 1970, were busily discovering a new injection which could bring a person back to normality. In an adjoining room to the lab the dietitian Jane Nichols (Mrs. Jack Jameson) and her assistant Marguerita Carcamo, prepared their meals for the next week. At the thought of meals I inquired for the dining room, which to my delight was a cheerful room for up and coming patients. Two very attractive girls of about 18 were gaily singing a lovely duet. These girls proudly announced that they were the former Henrietta Wilkinson ' s daughters. Henry, we learned, had married the son of Lawrence Tibbet whom she had met while starring with the metropolitan Opera Com- pany. I noticed two middle aged women scrubbing the mastic tile floor; so vigor- ously they did it, I stopped to enquire why. The lovely faces of Pat Hogan and Cathy Jackson looked up and I realized these two physically trained women were keeping in condition by scrubbing the floor with a new invention of scientist John Houghton. Pam then guided me down the hall again toward the office. As we passed the music room again a shrill, high bell-like sound hit my ear, and I stopped in my tracks. I was eased when Joan Black appeared in the doorway with her young Page Twenty-three

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Alice at O.L.C. (continued) little girls don ' t come snooping around here at night. You always see me awake because I ' m the Day Lio n. But as soon as it gets real dark, he takes his turn on watch. By the time you ' re out for morning walk, of course it ' s my turn again. Really, no kidding? said Alice? No lion, said Leo. My, said Alice, what a lot you two must see and know about the school and the girls who ' ve gone here for years and years and years. Tell me what do you think of the modern girl compared with grandma when she went to school? Now, young lady, said Leo, that ' s putting me on a spot. I think you ' re trying to twist my tail. But I ' ll tell you — I love ' em all alike, because there ' s not really so much difference as you could squeeze through the keyhole there. Sure, they used to trail around in long skirts and stiff shirts and big buns of hair (pardon me, chignons they were), and now they romp in sweaters and shorts and cut their hair almost like boys ' , and today they think they ' re awfully advanced, but bless you, they ' re the same good- hearted kids from year to year, and each Commencement Day when they come out here in their white dresses with roses in their arms, to have their pictures taken with Dopey and me, well, my old heart is fit to burst with pride and affection. Why, I ' ll bet you the old Dodo up there in the Dean ' s office, and all the other odd characters who teach all that learning — reeling and writhing, distraction and derision, and mystery and drawling and Laughing and Grief — I ' ll bet you they all feel the same as I do, — fair bursting with pride and wiping the mist off their spectacles. Alice was a little doubtful, but her mind was on another track. But she wailed, I often wonder what ' s the sense of learning all that stuff, just to forget a lot of it. I mean what good does it do you? Where does it get you? Now, now, replied the lion, don ' t rush, just be calm and listen to reason. Your face has got some sense in it — though it isn ' t a clever one. You can ' t expect to see results all at once. It took a long time and lots of good food and exercise for you to grow into the fine healthy girl you are now; it takes a still longer time, the best mental vitamins, and plenty of mental and spiritual exercise to make you equally healthy mentally and spiritually — qualified to be an all round useful citizen. Take care of the character, I always say, and the career will take care of itself. Yes, that ' s what I would like to tell them all on the day when they leave here for the last time. When they turn at the gate to have a last look at the castle and wave a last farewell to Dopey and me, that ' s what I ' ll be saying: Don ' t forget — character ' s everything! Well, this is a long speech from an old fellow like me. But it ' s from the heart, you know. And that ' s another thing — character ' s fourfold. There ' s body, mind and spirit, but don ' t forget to exercise your heart as well. Be sure your heart is in the right place, and then let it talk. Well, goodbye now said Leo, as the deep notes of the tower bell warned all who were abroad that it was almost time for dinner. Alice raised her head and tried to gather her sleepy wits. Her Geometry had fallen from her lap and her pencil was at the bottom of the steps. When she remem- bered, she turned quickly to look at Leo, who was as usual staring down the driveway. But Alice wasn ' t quite certain — surely there was a twinkle in the corner of his eye? A voice from above shrilled, Hey, Alice, the bell has gone. OK said Alice, and she scrambled up, a little stiffly. She looked around, and, sure that no one was in sight, she bent down swiftly and planted a kiss on the top of Leo ' s head. I won ' t forget, old thing, she said, and streaked off for the side door. M. H. S. Page Twenty-five