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

Page 29 text:

BLUE AND WHITE make, I hate to leave; and so it was that I felt wretched. At the end of the first period on the second day, Mr. McNaughton assigned me to 3A. A boy took me to the door and left me there. With my heart in my throat and my stomach in my shoes, I knocked at the door which was opened ly the teacher. Miss McLaren (for she was my teacher) took me into the class where David Copperfield was being read. Oh, how miserable I felt! My misery was, however, greatly lessened by my teacher. Very kindly she gave me a list of the school rules and told me to make a copy of the timetable. When the bell rang, Miss McLaren introduced me to the girl who has been my Walkerville companion ever since—Joyce Dunn. History was next on my day’s sche¬ dule. I followed in line like a lost sheep and entered Miss Brown’s room. Since Canadian History has never been one of my strong points, I couldn’t be ex¬ pected to be keenly interested. All at once, before I had had time to lose all my interest. Miss Brown exclaimed, “Why, Dorothy, you’ve grown fat over the summer!” What on earth had I walked into? Chemistry came next, but there was nothing unusual there. Then came noon hour. 0, how happy I was! One-fifteen came all too soon, and the torture had to be renewed. First on the bill of fare was Latin. The teacher certainly was a live-wire; he believed in starting right away. After sending some students to the board, Mr. White began his march around the room while he hummed “I Love You Truly”. What kind of school was this anyway? To do Mr. White justice, I must say that he had very recently been married. The bell rang. Ah! at last I was to get something I liked—Geometry. But

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BLUE AND WHITE Facts About Songs Did you know that our national an¬ them, “God Save the King” was being sung on this continent years before the formation of the United States? Two hundred years ago, when Canada was French, the song was sung with French words—pledging allegiance to a French King. William Kirby, author of “The Gold¬ en Dog”, suggests that the English song is just a translation and revision of the old French song: “Grand Dieu; Sauvez le Roi! Grand Dieu; Sauvez le Roi! Sauvez le Roi! Que toujours glorieux, Louis Victorieux, Voye ses ennemis Toujours soumis!” English historians say that Britain’s grand National Anthem originated at the time of the Jacobite plotting against George the Second. In 1745, the song became quite pop¬ ular in England. It was sung at Drury Lane Theatre on the evening of Sept¬ ember 28. The following Monday, the notice of the performance in the Daily Advertiser read: “On Saturday night last, the audi¬ ence at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, were agreeably surprised by the gentle¬ men belonging to that house performing the anthem of ‘God Save our Noble King’. The universal applause it met with, being encored with repeated, huz¬ zas, sufficiently denoted in how just an abhorrence they hold the arbitrary schemes of our insidious enemies, and detest the despotic Attempts of Papal Power.” Incidentally, the music of “God Save the King” has been adopted by Switzer¬ land, Germany and the United States for national anthem purposes, although the Germans don’t use it any more. They prefer an old beer-garden tune. And did you know that there really Page Twenty-six was a man named John Bull, who lived rr back in the days of James the First and I who is credited by some authorities with originating the tune of “God Save the s King”? ' n Or did you know that “The Wearin’ a o’ the Green” was an especial favorite t of Queen Victoria’s? k Here are some other odd facts about songs: The Communism’s anthem “The v Red Flag” is sung to the tune of a well- v known hymn . . . The “Star Spangled ( Banner was written aboard an English ship by an American who was happy t over the fact that the English had not c been successful in their bombardment of Baltimore ... In the American Civil 1 War the Northern army marched to the 1 tune of “John Brown’s Body”, an old Southern air, while the soldiers of the South sang “Dixie”, a tune that orig- , inated in the North . . . “The Maple j Leaf” was written in two hours ... i People in Vienna were jailed, 100 years ago, for whistling the “Marseillaise”. —Alice Kolmis, XII-A WALKERVILLE I don’t know what the exact date was; all I know is that it was the first day of school, 1938. As is usual with first days of school, the weather was beautiful. The sun was brilliant, the air was soft and the sky was a postcard blue with soft downy clouds floating lazily through it. My spirits were not at all in accord with that perfect day. The only thing that was the least bit similar was that I felt blue—a very dull blue spotted with black clouds—not at all like the beauti¬ ful blue of the sky. Now I must admit that the first day of school is always somewhat pleasant to me. The reason for my gloom in 1938 was that I had just left Kennedy where I had spent two very happy High School years. I was to enter a new school, and the only person I knew was my sister, who wouldn’t be in my class anyway. I don’t make friends easily; those I do

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BLUE AND WHITE no—I hadn’t counted on Mr. Ball. Never was I to feel perfectly at ease in that Geometry class. Fair? You could never ask for a fairer teacher than Mr. Ball; but he did make us quake. Then came French, which has al¬ ways been one of my favourite subjects. Formerly, I had had a simply perfect French teacher whose only fault was that his temper was not very sweet. Now I was to have a perfect French teacher whose temper was as sweet as she was. I had to take a dose of Algebra three times a week. It was bitter stuff which I never could digest. I felt low that first day. I wasn’t al¬ lowed to feel that way very long. Every one of my teachers, knowing that I was a stranger, immediately went out of his or her way to make me feel at home. They made me feel as though I were really wanted—as though they enjoyed teaching me. The victory was complete, my heart belongs to Walkerville. And to those teachers who helped smooth the rough path of my first year at Walker¬ ville, I wish to say “Thank You”. Page Twenty-eight