University of Western Ontario - Occidentalia Yearbook (London, Ontario Canada)

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WESTERN U GAZETTE Joe Hamilton, or Carlisle and Snell who used to howl witty things at each other down the corridor at midnight; and the artists Dave Cornish (cartoonist supreme), Colgrove (the designer), and Sammy Jones on whom fell the mantle, somewhat large, of Cornish ? Who now compare with mighty Ab Bice and his brother Gib, or big Alex or Dan MacMillan and Bob Bucke, for athletic prowess? And Len Rowntree, champion of the track, is noAV a D. Sc. When the Bice Bros, played for London Rugby, the team was in the same class with the Senior Hamilton Tigers. Once when Ab. had a slight concussion, it took three of Huron ' s biggest huskies to hold him in his room ; it v. ' ould take Mr. Brock ' s whole team to-day, leaving out Mr. Brock. A little later were Algy Clark and Jim Cartledge, only a little less than Grant in histrionic fame. Reg. Charles has but gradually passed from our midst ; he was Ulysses, good at anything, v. ' hose bow is hard to bend. Then came the Paladnis who went to war in Prance, whose names are spread like a rainbow over us, and some of them belong agam to the present as to the pa.sr. Then the girls ! They are all very well at present, but you see I am carousing in the past. It was the girls of years ago that gave its character to No. G. Some came to study, some to dance or dream, but all to charm. The gloomy old halls, not renovated as now, but literally crack- ing and mouldering everywhere, oozing with summer damp when you walked through on the first of October, only seem- ed to emphasize the graces of the girls that illumined them. They Avere Lon- don ' s berit, with one or two now and then from Luean, Thorndale or other suburbs, and they were loyal to Western to the ery deatli. Some went, it is true, to Toronto to finish an honor course, because of the regulation:; of John Seath or be- cause of ])arental command, but to their memory Western was still nonpareil. Ay. me, they are gone, all, all are gone, the old familiar faces, to the islands of the blest, or the benedicts, except two or three that abide on the faculty of Alma Mater. Some still appear for a moment on occasions, and one girl graduate is flit- ting about in a class or two. May their light continue to lighten ns. The naughty pranks they used to play, shall I tell them? How the dummy hung and danced outside the window of Pro- fessor Burgess ' s class room, or on April L ' ool ' s Day knocked at his door, an appli- cant for enrollment as special student in mathematics just before examination time. How the inimitable Parney, great- est of mimics, labelled the owls for a con- versazione; the big white one, Canon Richardson ; the biggest broAvn one, mathematicus maximus Americanus, for Pro. Burgess, etc. But the doing of those days are they not chronicled in the publications of the time, In Cap and Gown, McDonkey ' s Magazine ? Copies of those manuscript journals, espe- cially with Dave Cornish ' s illustrations, are worth their weight in gold to the col- lege antiquarian or collector. I recom- mend to the editors of The Gazette to in- quire of Rev. Canon Carlisle or others for such documents in our domestic history. And now I should be coming to the present, but my space is taken up. In any case, the present can well look after itself, being full of life and vitamines. A last backward glance over Western ' s past career discerns three moments shining like landmarks. Morning on the entrance gate, and some good old divines and doc- tors together start a great project with little capital beyond faith and public spirit. Noon on the elm-shadowed house of Arts, where they fleet the time as in a gjklen age, a happy family. ' Evening on the academic Thames below the Western bank, vvhere the war guns are calling the young men away, and the young women carry on as best they can, and the forts of prejudice at Toronto are suddenly carried with a last rush. Now comes the new day, when the Lares and Penates are getting ready to trek up stream a little v -ay to a largerway to a larger abode. May their hold on the greater student hosts of- the future be ever as strong as the affection that they have inspired in the little family of the past.

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WESTERN U GAZETTE PAST AND PRESENT Even so young- a creature as Western has a past. We are all of us mostly past, for the present is and is not, the poet sings. But then, as he had just observed, the past is clean forgot. Its tears turn gems, its wrongs repent to diadems, another might go on ; its real values and thrills vanish, while its follies are a rous- ing jest and even its boredom wins a glory from being far. Everything gets turned topsy turvy by, memory, that most per- verse of sinners. When in the former age I came to Wes- tern, the university was under the direc- tion of the principal of Huron College, who had the title of Provost of the university. Only, that year there was no kaiserlich-koeniglich provost principal ; they had got off with the old before they were on with the new. And there was no Dean stopping the dyke like the hero of Haarlem. Consequently there was an un- imaginable touch of good times from the undergraduate viewpoint. A light that never was on sea or land lit up the ship of Western-Huron or Huron- Western that year. The passage was stormy in spots and yet port was made ; there were gradu- ates graduating just the same as usual, however they did it. Of course the medical school of those days was like a star and dwelt apart. Their convocations were a dream to re- member, but I refer you to such author- ities as Dr. James or Dr. Moorhouse for the painfial details. I may note in passing that, functioning on the platform in some capacity once, I felt a flick on my ear from a liquifying lemon that just missed me and hit some one else. There were medi- cal students in those days who hadn ' t passed High School entrance, some of them since, however, highly successful for themselves in the red, capacious Occident. Most of the men, nevertheless, were good stuff, the very best. The annual tug- ' Of-war between the budding parsons of Huron and the pros- pective medicine-men commonly showed anything but a soul affinity between these studies. Hostilities sometimes did not end with the field of action, but went on in various un-Christian endeavors until things gradually smoothed down to norm- al. His studie was but litel on the Bible, said Chaucer of the doctor of physik. And the theologs of last gener- ation were powerful with fist as well as voice. There was once a story about the halls of a big green-coated freshman from the forest primeval up in Bruce. When he got his first try-out on a country congre- gation, he undertook to preach on the Bible. I am often asked the question, he declared pompously in one passage, whether Adam and Eve had a Bible. Of course they had a Bible, just the same as ours (inlay thought: 1001 pages, printed at Amen Corner, dedicated to King James, highly Authorized). It was given them in Eden (and told all about their expul- sion and future destinies). Only it has long since mouldered away in the dust of ages. The thing sounds almosts myth- ological. But you know every respectable history has to have mythological or legen- dary beginnings; let Western have hers. It is the gospel truth that Charlie Ryan never learnt a Greek word except kai ; ask Canon Carlisle, his tutor. With the arrival of Principal Waller, old Huron- Western ' s age of Fable merges into a time of distincter outlines. Wes- ' tern was separated somewhat from its early nurse and got a provost of its own in Dr. James. A regular renaissance set in. It was an epoch of Africa and gold- en joys. The attendance was growing or had growing pains, but somehow Wes- tern did not feel that it wanted to grow up. It was in the nineteen noughts a Peter Pan. Ask any of the old-timers whether thy would have had Western any different from v hat it was. Ask Herbert Hopkins Moorhouse, the novelist, what it was like. He has publishsed a charming story of Western as he knew it when a student here, with some slight disguise of names. The century was still in the cradle, why hurry forward ? But scholars and characters were moulded in those halcyon years. When will Western have the match of Landon and Baker, Gras, Grant (the greatest actor before Hannah), and the colossal

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WESTERN U GAZETTE Some Impressions of France Prol ' cssoi Meras former stiuUMits Avill lie interestod in tlie little tour in Prance he nunlc during the M ' inter holidays. Prom Toulouse, where he is attending the Uni- versity in preparation for the Ph.D., he wont to Bordeaux, Paris, Lyons, Geneva and South Pranee — a voyage circulaire whieh ended with his vacation, at his Starting point. He writes, in a letter to Dr. Shanks : Naturally I saw other places along my route ; I saw Angouleme and Poi- tiers, Tours arid Orleans, the chateaux along the Loire, the theatres of Paris, Dijon and Lyon with Notre Dame de la Pourviere on the height; the Alps and Lake Leman, Les Cevennes, the sunny valley of the Rhone, with Avignon and the handsome Palace of the Popes, Taraseon and its smiling Tartarins, Cette and the quiet, impressive blue of the Mare Nos- trum, Narbonne, Carcassonne and her mighty fortress C ' est aujourd ' hui le neuf et je n ' ai pas encore eu let temps de finir votre lettre. Ces jcurs-ci, on me fait travailler enormement, mais cctte annee j ' eprouve tant de plaisir a etudier oue c ' est bien loin d ' etre une punition. Je voudrais que Monsieur Auden fut ici poui ' me forcer a faire un peu plus de latin. Pour le latin il faut I ' avouer je suis tres paresseux. Ce n ' est pas que cette langue ne m ' interesse pas: tout au contraire Je voulais vous raconter up peu mon voy- age de Bordeaux a Paris. Je me suis leve a quartre heures pour prendre le train sur Bor- deaux; mais quand je arrive a ia gare a Tou- louse la bulletin annoncait un retard de trois heures a cause de la neige. Ici a Toulouse meme nous en avons eu a peu pres soixante centimetres. Enfin le train est venu, j ' y suis monte et nous sommes mis en route pour le grand port. Nous sommes arrives vers quar- torze heures (two p. m.) et j ' ai trouve que j ' avais manque le train pour Paris. Je me suis achete alors un petit plan de la ville, je suis alle me procurer une chambre, je m ' y suis in- stalle avec mes bagages et me voila pret a faire le tour de la ville. C ' etait d ' abord la Garonne et les ponts et les quais que j ' ai visites, ensuite j ' ai suivi le rive tout en ad- mirant les superbes hotels abimes plutot gates par les grandes enseignes de marchands de vin, qui montent tout le long de la riviere jursqu ' a la rade Tuesday aiul 1 haven ' t had time to finish this letter. As I said, I walked up along the banks of the river spying out the church steeples. Pirst I saw La Tour St. Michel, that interesting .spire }iigh above the city, then L ' Eglise Ste Croix with its stunted Romanesque facade, its (pieer equestrian statue so different in style from the crumbling women with their serpents over the doorway. I wan- dered through the crooked streets onward to the great cathedral, spreading its Gothis beauty over the Place Bernard. It is handsome within, it is handsome with- out, with its delivate buttresses and its- tall thin towers, with its pale, violet win- dows, designed in faint blues and burning- reds, with its finely carved chapels vague- ly lighted by the flickering gleams of con- secrated candles. I walked from there along the busy Rue Ste. Catherine, where endless autos wound in and out among the rushing Christmas crowds, and came out before la Comedie where the low-built opera house extends its pillared front. The queue had already started to form at six o ' clock, to see Rigoletto at eight- thirty. I tried to get seats, could not, and walked on a bit to the immense Place des Quinconces, to see the towering statue to the Girondins and the tine thin line of lighted lamps that led down to the har- bour, where shadowy ships swung lazily amid odd moving lanterns. It was a won- derful sight looking over the water from my place imder the radiance of the two -tall beacons that signalled out across the harbor. I stood there fully ten minutes mider the starry sky, on a Christmas eve as mild as a night in June. Then back to the hotel, where I regaled myself on a dish of Bouillabaisse and fell asleep to the strains of the nasal organs that accompany all Prench fairs. Por no matter where I go in Prance there is always a fair or cir- que, carrousels with wooden pigs instead of wooden horses, etc., etc. It is a happy country, Prance, with its smiliiig faces and its hearty laughter, but. behind this exterior there ' is a note of grim serious de- termination that makes her strength.