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Page 52 text:
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Page fifty YEAR (Class 2 1965 At last I, Lizzie Zilch, have attained my life-long ambition. At the age of fifty-eight, I succeeded Ruth Fretting as head Blues singer at station GORP, the voice of Asthma. About the time I received my appointment, who should come in but Spencer Cumming. He wanted to double for Bing Crosby. After listening to him singing “Nero, My Dog Has Fleas,” in an ear-splitting soprano, I convinced him that the only singer in his family was a sewing machine, and I had the head bouncer throw him out. Betty Black and Barbara Jarman came crashing through the studio door. They showered me with kisses and exclaimed, “Gee, Lizzy, we’re famous now, we just got back from Hollywood.” Yes, I recalled seeing that Betty had given a very heartfelt portrayal of the Sweatband in the “Green Hat,” and that Barb had attained instant fame for her interpretation of the Spring Board in “Hell Divers.” As we were chatting over old times we heard thick voices trickling through the woodwork. Opening the door I saw Bob Cook and Wilfred Costello covered with tomato ketchup. Accompanied by Bolis Banjo they were singing “Is my vest red ?” They told me that Maxinne Fox was making a good living teaching the Highland Fling to Scotch terriers. My first fan letter came from Angus Osborne. He confidentially told me that he and Joe Michener were making a harness living, running a livery stable. He ended with a postscript—It’s a wise horse that knows his own fodder. Marg. Moffat applied for a job as a charwoman but made such a nuisance of herself beg¬ ging for bottles of red-eye that I was forced to fire her. However she recom¬ mended Carrie Speer to fill her place. When I asked Carrie what she thought of Mahatma Ghandi she said she ate cream fudge only. Neale Roche came to me one morning and plaintively asked for a dime for a cup of “Cawfie.” He had been a pork salesman in Jerusalem but business was so bad he returned to his ' home town. We were both surprised to see Bettie Mitchell fly past on her roller-skates. “What lovely Titian hair,” I said. “I’ll bet it’s imititian,” said Neale, and was off like a shot. Barron and Nicolson came to me one day. They wanted to arrange for a programme to advertise their Fallen Arch Six Shoes. They told me that George Bass had been expelled from a deaf and dumb school for making too much noise. It seems Pat Mitchell had taken to the bar and was soaking in the atmosphere. Martha Holm and Blanche Toews were down and out. Martha was down at Leth¬ bridge and Blanche was out at Ponoka. Yvonne Stenberg was making a good living selling cigar butts. Mary Picken, Florence Patton and Ella Noble came in one day chewing gum for all they were worth. “Can I chew your gum?” I asked. “Which one—upper or lower?” they said in Unison. They had started a ballet with Isadore Gofsky, Howard Minchin, John Hall, Ben Hanen and Burke Besen in the chorus. Helen Hairsine, Marg. Blatchford, and Dodo Splane had made a fortune out of Ajax Axle grease. They wanted me to sing “The Axlegrease Blues,” but I had already promised Bruce Wallace to sing on his “Pantaloon Cigar” hour. Sid Mitchell and Evangeline Girvin had just discovered how to hasten time with the spur of the moment. Sid said that Gordon Buchanan was wearing pumps as he had water on the knee. Imagine my joy when I heard that Jack Irvine and Harold Kennedy had written a “Painless Trigonometry.” How my old classmates had progressed! But my reverie was broken. I heard Graham Cracker shouting: “You’re next on the programme, Miss Zilch.” 1 bade adieu to my old friends and hastened toward the “mike.” By MONA MACAULAY, Class 2.
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Page 51 text:
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BOOK Page forty-nine DEPARTMENTAL UNITS PASSED— (Cont’d) Seven Subjects—Alice Ainslie, Edward Bate, Thomas Boyer, Betty Cawston, Ruth Clendenan, Ruth Cole, Bert Corey, Sydney Goldenberg, Myrtle Hagen, Mar¬ garet Hess, Connie Hickson, Barry Himmelman, Lois Ireland, William Ireland, William MacLauchlan, Wilda McTavish, Marjorie McTeer, Thomas Malcolm, Anne Marks, Arthur Miller. Florence Morley, Henry Pearce, Bennie Sengaus, Dorothy Shackleton, Christie Sheldon, Humphrey Watts, Ruby Weitzer, Violet Wilson, Kenneth Wright, Jennie Wyrick. Six Subjects—Katherine Adolph, Betty Allen, Marie Anderson, Audrey Bliss, Mar¬ garet Blow, June Cameron, Margaret Clutterbuck, George Dickson, William Cayley, Betty Gilroy, James Hill, Walter Holditch, Kathleen Leslie, Dorothy McCaig, Rayworth McKay, Gilbert MacKenzie, Walter MacKenzie, Ruth Mac¬ Millan, Conrad Mackey, Vera Noble, Stuart Nott, Alexander Patterson, Dougald Patterson, Mildred Patton. Marion Rea. Edith Rowan, Leslie Sceales, Roberta Todd, Ruth Turnbull, William Uren, Merle Voss, Margaret Welsh, Edith Wise. Five Subjects—Chester Burns, Lucille Charbonneau, Jack Corbet, John Davidson, James Fry, Arthur Gill, Josephine Hughes, Clara Laven. Gordon MacKav, Charles McKill, James Macqueen, Denis Mason, Graham Miller, Walter Ogilvie William Harcourt O’Reilly, Mary Porritt, Roland Richardson, Peter Richard¬ son, Leslie Scott, Vera Snell, Robert Stevens, Leland Watts, Harold Webb, John West, Arthur White, Frederick Williams, Paul Zabok. Four Subjects—Arthur Apperley, Byron Brunner, Hudson Connolly, Rheta Dixson, Alva Dixson, Robert Freeland, Jim Leggatt, Kenneth Martin, Dorothy Picken, Kenneth Ruttle, Emma Snoxell, Phyllis Spooner. mt nf tbr laskpt Now I go to class to sleep, 1 pray the Prof, will silence keep. If he should call me ere I wake What would I do for goodness’ sake. Go onward! Go onward! Oh Time in thy flight And please make the bell ring Before I recite. I eat my peas with honey I’ve done it all my life; They do taste kind of funny, But it keeps them on the knife. Willie looking down a gun, Pulled the trigger just for fun; Mother says, in accents pained: “Willie is so scatter-brained.” Thirty days hath September, All the rest I can’t remember; The Calendar hangs on the wall, Why bother me with it at all ? Here lies a pedestrian, Much colder than ice, He only jumped once, He should have jumped twice. There was an old person of Lyme, Who married three wives at a time; When asked “Why the third?” He replied, “One’s absurd, And bigamy sir, is a crime.” He plunged his deadly weapon deep, The blade was red with gore; He pulled it out with fiendish sweep, To plunge it in once more. And then he found his grim work done And, as in doubt, looked round: “I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “Did you say—half-a-pound ?” Gather your kisses while you may, For time brings only sorrow, The girls who are so sweet today, Are the chaperons of tomorrow. He kissed her on the forehead, In spite of all her squeals; They met upon the morrow, But she wore higher heels.
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