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

Page 46 text:

BLUE AND WHITE honey, and it isn’t a girl.” Penelope took the phone almost too scared to answer. Hello,” she said timidly. “Hi , came a cheery voice from the other end, is this Penny?” Penelope had never been called Penny before, but she liked the name im¬ mensely. “Yes, it is, she answered. Well, he returned, this is Dave Ben¬ son; would you like to go to the prom with me? Pene lope was too nervous to answer, but she finally managed a weak yes”. Penelope did not tell her sister of the invitation, because she knew she would not let her go. Matty and Penny put their money together and bought all the necessary things for the dance. It was the night of the dance and to everyone’s astonishment Penny looked beautiful. Of course Jane did not see her. for she had a date. As Penny was waiting for Dave, the phone rang. ' I ' his is Betty Thomas,” came a famil¬ iar voice; I thought it was my duty to tell you that Dave only asked you be¬ cause it was a frat initiation.” Thank you,” said Penny quietly, “I am very glad you called.” Before the tears that were rushing to her eyes could come Penny heard the doorbell. She opened tlje door to Dave. Is Penny ready yet?” he questioned looking over the pretty girl at the door. Yes. I am. Dave’s mouth fell. “Are you Penny? I don ' t believe it—you look so different. Come on, honey, let’s go.” “I’m sorry, 1 can’t go with you Dave, I found out why you asked me. v Oh.” said Dave turning a brilliant red, “well, so long.” Penny watched him as he went down to the car. Then she let go and just sobbed and sobbed. “You ' d better dry those pretty eyes if we’re going to be on time for the dance, Pennv.” Third Prize in the Art Contest Jack bossing. Penny looked up to see her handsome cousin Jack standing in front of her. Jack helped Penny with her coat. Then, taking her arm. he guided her out to the car. When Penny walked in with Jack, en¬ vious heads turned to look at the couple. Penny had a wonderful time that night and she was no longer the ugly duckling. MARILYN EENECH. 10A SUPPLEMENTARY ESSAY ON SCHOOL SPIRIT Our school ,tis of thee. Shackles of slavery. Of thee we sigh. Sad. oh. the moron’s pi ight. In the grips of thy might— Thy halls and grounds a sight.— Oh. might we die! Thou noble faculty. Obeisance unto thee, “Mercy!” we cry. Long may thy world be bright With intellectual light, And pupils who do right— After we die. E. C. GREEN Page Forty-Three

Page 45 text:

BLUE AND WHITE “A VICTIM OF ADOLESCENCE” I wish that I could demonstrate The way I always feel. Without making my Mom and Dad Think that I ' m a heel. My Mother says that I am sick Because I sit and mope, My Father says I ' m as good as dead, That there isn ' t any hope. Myself? 1 can ' t explain this stage That scientists call youth. And surely. I’d he more than pleased If I could know the truth Of all that ails and bothers me. And keeps me in the dumps. And makes me glare at everyone ho says I have the grumps. And so to end my little poem And keep our home “sweet home. Would everyone be kind to me And please leave me alone? BILL FELLOWS. 11C ON THOUGHTS PROFOUND I speak on thoughts profound. Of worlds beyond, and little known. Of greater things than sky and ground: Of stupendous spectres that have grown From infinitestimal thoughts and phrases That come from deep and darkened hazes. And minds have tried for years in vain To search out knowledge, whence it came. What is my soul? Where doth it berth? Be it hell or heaven, or here on earth? I compare mv soul to the night. And to the darkness in its flight. The dawn is comparable to the death That reveals my soul, and steals nfy breath. BOB GIRLING THE UGLY DUCKLING Penelope Porter was by no means a pretty girl. She would never make any hearts throb faster when she entered the room. In fact Penelope was very plain and some might call her ugly. Her auburn hair was pulled tightly behind her ears and held down with a clip Penelope was never allowed to wear any make-up. “It will ruin your girlish complexion. said her sister who did not use it spar¬ ingly. Penelope’s sister Jane was consid¬ ered very beautiful and since their mother had died. Jane had full charge of Pene¬ lope. The doctor had told Penelope she did not need to wear the heavy gold-rimmed glasses, but her sister had always insisted she should. So day after day Penelope went to school wearing her flat oxfords and unstylish clothes. Penelope was always very lonesome. She didn’t have any close friend to talk with between periods about the date last Saturday (as if she ever had any) or about what to wear to the prom. Oh. the prom! How Penelope had wanted to go. but who would ask her. Betty Thomas and Anne Johnson were going, but they were so different. They always went to dances and things. Penelope heard two girls snicker and giggle as she passed them. Her brown eyes filled with tears behind those horrible, horrible glasses. Penelope was always glad when four o’clock came and she could go home to Matty, the house-keeper. Matty was Penelope’s only and best friend. When Penelope entered the kitchen Matty was very excited. “Here , she said in gasps, “it’s for you, BRYN DAVIES Walkerville Collegiate this year suffered a great loss in the death of Bryn Davies. His name has been permanently inscribed in the records of our school, for he was outstanding in every phase of school life—in sports, in cadets, in The Agcra, in social activities and in the classroom. By those of us who ware privileged to know him he will never be forgottan.

Page 47 text:

BLUE AND WHITE THIS IS UNIVERSITY The taxi lurched to a stop. We paid the driver, picked up our bags, turned, and walked through the archway into the college- Tom Beckett—the star of some of Walkervflle ' s best plays—and I walked into a year of confusion, happiness, and work (this last took up the least of our time). To tell of everything that happens in a year would require reams of paper. Per¬ haps one ur two events, however; would serve to show you a few of the memories that accumulate so quickly in the few years at college Initiation was the first event that came hurtling down on us. This year, because of the large number of servicemen in first year, initiations were light. We woke up one night just in time to see our door broken open. We were pounced up¬ on and dragged, in spite of our struggles (which seemed only to add to the hilar¬ ity), clown to the basement and dumped into tubs of cold water. Our beds, mean¬ while, had been tossed, piece by piece, out cif the window. Then, of course, there was the time Tom and I took a friend ' s bed apart, hid the pieces, and then staged a Treasure Hunt, College, however, is not all fun. There is some work. Indeed, there is a lot of work—much more than you ever get in Walkerville, even with teachers like Miss Robbins and Mr. Lowdem One of the easiest things to do in college is to get behind in your assignments and then be snowed under at examination time trying to get them done. The sophs — those creatures who get up at eleven every day and go around with a superior smirk and a vacant stare —insist that if you keep up vour work there is nothing to fear when the hectic days of May roll around. Be that as it may, you will find college a place of work and play. To those of you who are going to col¬ lege. and especially to those daring souls who are going to venture into the sacred halls of Toronto, I wish good work and good plav. - VM. j. YOUNG (W.CJ. 1 c 45) Page Forty-Four ON BEING CALLED DOWN TO THE OFFICE The telephone rings and we shake like a leaf, And crossing our fingers, we make not a sound; “Yes, he is here A (the girls sigh in re¬ lief,) “Right now? O.K. Pete, Pll send him straight down A Then Archie turns to the trembling class And clearing his throat he begins, ‘‘There is a boy here with a past Who now shall pay for his sins, John, we ' ve all liked you pretty well. So sorry that you must go A Shaking Iris hand he bids sad farewell: “Su long, you ' ve had it you know A ' John drags himself out into the hall. His heart is thumping like mad. The thought of facing Mr. P all Makes him very sad. Did he see me smoking on the way to school ? W as he told that in French I copied my test ? Does he know that on Monday 1 played pool ? And to fake a note ! did my best?” The office now looms in gray, “Oh, why did I not pay attention When Miss McLaren told me the day I was to have served my detention ?” Buck in the classroom the dock ticks slowly; While at each other with dread we look. The door bursts open: John grins happily. Pete gave him his lost History book. CAMILLE WHELPT0N, 13A