Walkerville Collegiate Institute - Blue and White Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

Page 31 text:

BLUE AND WHITE MY GARDEN I have a little garden, That grows by a shady glen. And all the birds do love it, The robin, rook and wren. And in my pretty garden Grow flowers of many a hue, The pink, the rose, and the tulip, Glistening with the morning dew. And in my tiny garden, Run many streamlets gay, That pass the rose and tulip, Who seem to want to play. Through many hours of pleasure I idly wander there, To enjoy the merry streamlets And the crimson rose so fair, RUTH DUNN, 9E LOVE AFFAIR I think I’m good! I think I’m grand! I go to the shows and hold my hand; I put my arm around my waist— If I get fresh I slap my face. With myself I make a date To meet myself at half-past eight; If I’m not there, I ' ll always wait— I’m wild about myself. The Skater Over the ice like a bird on the wing, She glides with the song that her skates seem to sing; She twirls and she turns, with a lithe, graceful motion. And sails on her way, like a skiff on the ocean. The swift silver blades whistle shrilly and clear— Oh, winter’s the very best time of the year!” The skater’s sweet musical laughter vibrates As this Queen of the Ice charms the world on her skates. DOROTHY WOODS, 9E. % Philosophy:— Lives there a student with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, “Homework be darned. I’m going to bed.” Page Twenty-six Visits with the Army, Navy and Air Force I think the three most interesting days we spent this summer, while tour¬ ing France, England, and Scotland, were those with England’s Fighting Forces. Through the kind invitation of the War Ministry we visted Aldershot, the home of the 2nd Hampshire Regiment, Hend¬ on Airport, and that important naval base, Portsmouth. A short train ride brought us to Ald¬ ershot, where we were met by Major John Dill. We then divided into groups to visit the different sections of the bar¬ racks. After the inspection tour we trooped off to the parade grounds to watch the training of a group of recent conscripts. The gymnasium was the next stop. Here we witnessed the physical training drill of the recruits. After lunch we witnessed the annual present¬ ation of the Silver Spoon. This spoon must have been about a yard long and it was presented yearly to the poorest shot in the Regiment. Its present owner had had the somewhat doubtful honour of winning it three times straight. In the afternoon we were taken to Outridd¬ en Firs, which was just another hill, where the whole Regiment was drawn up in preparation for the war games that were to take place for the benefit of some Officers of the Indian Army. We were first turned loose for about half an hour to inspect the various units. Then the Regiment staged a mock counter-at¬ tack on a group.of woods about a mile away. From our vantage point on a nearby hill we were able to see clearly how effectively the British Army work¬ ed. The day with the Air Force was every bit as interesting. Even a drenching London rain did not prevent us from thoroughly enjoying ourselves. There were six Canadian Flying Officers stat¬ ioned there and they took us in hand for the day. The morning was spent in examining the latest types of fighting planes, including the speedy Hawker Hurricane and the Blenheim Bomber. It’s a miracle they didn’t have to send

Page 30 text:

BLUE AND WHITE It’s Tougher Than Tennis Autumn winds and snow-filled, leaden skies used to forecast the finals until spring of activities for many amateur athletes. A few exerted their muscles on the bowling alleys, others took up basketball and indoor swimming; but for the tennis-loving company who could not adjust themselves to the minute pellet and fly-swatter-sized paddle of table tennis, the coming of winter pre¬ sented an enigma. A growing number of these are now finding winter diversion in the game of badminton. They are finding that it of¬ fers all the thrills and exercise of ten¬ nis. And it is not an unwelcome change from the outdoor court game. Many a tennis match has stolen the headlines since the days when the game was an object of derision. No longer do men of muscle condescendingly appraise the sport, nor urchins salute the tennis player with a falsetto cry of “Love game”. The Tildens, Vineses and Bud¬ ges have changed all that. But mention of badminton, which has been called “tennis’ third cousin on a collateral branch”, but might better be called its half brother, still causes a raised eyebrow among the unacquainted sports fans. “A kid’s game” they call it sometimes. Followers of badminton are neither indignant nor dismayed by skep¬ tics. Rather than harbor resentment, they craftily maneuver scoffers into a tussle on the indoor courts. Almost with¬ out exception, their victims wobble out within half an hour. The reason ? A few games of badminton are as strenuous as a five-set tennis final. It’s no game for “sissies”. The implements of the game belie its viciousness. The little bat, like a tennis- racket, is light and fragile. It looks more like the tool of a lady’s parlor pastime. The feathered shuttlecocks, “birds” to the badminton fan, are little different from those bandied about by the young¬ sters of yore. A string net stretched across the center of a bit of level footing indoors— or outdoors, for that matter—is all you need to play the game. All, that is, ex¬ cept a pair of especially good lungs, nimble feet and strong wrists. Sports histories are pleasantly vague on the subject of badminton’s origin. English chroniclers of the game say that about seventy years ago, a desper¬ ate house party, stormbound at Bad¬ minton (a Gloucestershire country est¬ ate) conceived the game by stretching a rope across the main hall and com¬ mandeering the “kiddies’ ” battledores and shuttlecocks. The next record of the game comes from an obscure British Army Post in India. Karachi, the first club to organ¬ ize in Queen Victora’s overseas empire, established certain rules which lasted more than thirty years. As the chamber which served as their court had center doors, there was less width at the net line than at the ends of the room. The court, consequently, took the shape of an attenuated hour-glass. This feature was retained in future layouts. Before the outbreak of hostilities in Europe last fall, there were •about 1,000 clubs in England and some 600 more in Ireland, Scotland and Wales. An import¬ ant event since 1899 has been an All- England Championship, and during re¬ cent years there have been as many as seventy open tournaments annually, ex¬ clusive of inter-country matches. Canadians, of course, have long swung the racket, and cross the border frequ¬ ently into the east and far west to match skill with American fledglings. As yet there is no national organization, nor as many open tournaments as in England. But more may be expected, for the game is spreading into remote territory. Besides the simplicity of the game, the inexpensive equipment, the physical benefits to be derived from it, badmin¬ ton has still another virtue. You can make your own rules without impairing the character of the game. Badminton is one of the best all-around family games. But don’t let any scoffer make “puss-in-the-corner” remarks about the sport. Hand him a racket and give him a workout. MURRAY REED. Page Twenty-five Windsor Public Library

Page 32 text:

all the planes back to the factories for repairs, for they just stationed an offic¬ er in each plane to explain the details of tne operation to us, and told us to go to it. Needless to say it was a fascinating morning. During lunch we were surpris¬ ed to see the waiters setting a bottle of beer at each place. We were more sur¬ prised when the commanding officer ap¬ ologized to us for the limited supply of the beverage and that he could only of¬ fer us one apiece. I think he was a little surprised not to see us with a couple of six-shooters in our belts. That afternoon a squadron of Hawker Hurricanes went through formation flying drill for our benefit. A trip through the hangars completed the day. Even more interesting than both these days was the day we spent at Ports¬ mouth. Upon our arrival we were im¬ mediately stripped of our cameras as we were at Hendon Airport. Our first visit was to the “Victory”, Nelson’s old flag¬ ship. There were on the ship and in the nearby Nelson Museum many interest¬ ing relics of the Battle of Trafalgar, in¬ cluding several of the original cannons. Following this we boarded the “Hood”, largest fighting ship in the world. A thorough tour of inspection took up the rest of the morning. Starting with the engine room we worked our way up through the kitchens, sleeping quarters and various other sections of the ship until we saw ourselves in the officers’ dining saloon. Here we were served lunch before our inspection of the gun turrets. These are protected by two-foot armour plates and are controlled from the central control tower. The shells have to be raised from the magazine in the hold and are handled by three diff¬ erent crews of men during their trip from the bottom of the ship. Despite this they can be fired at the rate of two a minute. A trip to the control tower concluded the tour of inspection. From the top of the tower we could see the much talked-of “Ark Royal”. The Royal Oak was riding at anchor about half a mile away. We were then taken to the docks to see the arrival of the Royal Family on their yacht, “Victoria and Albert”, from Dartmout Naval Acad¬ emy. From there swift harbour boats took us to the submarine base. Here the Davis escape apparatus was demonstr¬ ated to us. It was the artificial lung that saved the lives of four people aboard the ill-fated “Thetis”. A trip through one of the newest mine-laying submarines brought the visit to a close and as we boarded the train at Portsmouth station we all agreed that it was by far the best day we had spent and were likely to spend that summer. PETER CRASSWELLER. Three Cheers for Walkerville C. I. From the district ’round about our students come, And trot through the school from nine until four; Some come here to learn and others to fool, And some come to break all the rules of the school. Now don’t get me wrong, we’re very nice kids; You’ll find no friendlier school in the world. Though we may not all have money and clothes, Who cares for trivial things such as those? I’m coming now to the end of my story Of Walkerville Collegiate and all its glory. Three cheers for her, students, you all know how You’re lucky to be here to cheer for her now. ANON. The Fountain Into the sunshine, Full of the light, Leaping and flashing From morning till night. Into the moonlight, Lighter than snow, Waving so flower-like, When the winds blow. HANNAH CARTER, 11F. Page Twentyseven