Western Canada High School - Yearbook (Calgary, Alberta Canada)

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Pa e seventy-six YEAR :: Iofe?0 :: W.C. Student—“That’s Minchin, our centre forward; he’ll soon be our best man.” Sweet Young Thing-—-“Oh, this is so sudden.” Maxine MacKlim (to butcher)—“I want a chicken.” Butcher—“D’ya wanna pullet?” Maxine—“No, I wanna carry it.” T. E. A. S.—“King, explain the Binomial Theorem.” King—“Just what is it you don’t understand?” Frank—“Who put that statue under the kitchen sink?” Mr. Johnson—“Ssh! That’s the plumber working.” Mr. Collier—“Translate, ‘Haec in Gallia importata est. ” Robertson—“Hike into Gaul, it’s important.” Mr. Pulleyblank (finishing exercise)—“Now class, if you‘11 look at the front board, I’ll run through it for you.” Keith—“Which would you rather be, beautiful or rich?” Barbara Jarman—“Oh, I wouldn’t mind being rich too.” Several years ago a friend walking by the Johnson home happened to see little Frankie sitting on the curb, crying. “Don’t cry Frankie,” he consoled, “you’ll get your reward in the end.” To which Frank replied, “S’pose so. That’s where I alius do get it.”

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BOOK Page seventy-five iHottmt JltrtureB Ittdn Watn By A. NICOLSON Till a few years ago the world of life beneath the water was almost as un¬ known as that of Mars or Venus. Man had penetrated but the fringes of this vast mysterious realm, and had captured practically none of its strange and awesome inhabitants. The pioneer of the deep sea explorers was William Beebe. In 1929 the idea came to him to construct a sphere capable of withstanding the pressure at one quarter of a mile beneath the surface. After a year of careful research, the Bathysphere was ready for its first trial. It was a steel sphere, four and one-half feet in diameter, sealed strongly with a heavy iron door, and having three ground quartz windows six inches across for observation. It was fitted with a telephone, a searchlight, oxygen tanks carefully valved to let out the oxygen at the rate of two litres per minute, supplies of calcium chloride to absorb the moisture, and soda lime to remove the carbon dioxide from the air. Though a camera was not taken on this particular trial, which took place off the east coast of Bermuda, the whole trip was reported by telephone. So highly successful was it that this form of diving apparatus, with alterations and im¬ provements, is one of the best methods of obtaining under-water motion pictures in use today. Let us now observe what passes before the eyes of the modern cameraman on his hazardous trip to the bottom of the sea. As the sphere enters the water and is submerged, the chamber is dimmed to a pleasant green. The light sifts down in long oblique rays as if through some beautiful cathedral window. Word is passed down to the occupants giving them their depth every fifty feet, but no change is visible save a slight chilling of the pleasant blue-green color. At five hundred feet it has changed to a queer brilliant blue color, most baffling to the eyesight. When eight hundred feet is reached the light has practically faded, and remains almost in total blackness to the bottom. All this time strange and beautiful sights have been passing by the window. Long strings of exquisite lace-like salpa wave by; myriads of colorful jelly-fish shimmer along their aimless courses and Pteropods or flying snails shoot by on their delicate shield-shaped wings. At four hundred feet the first real deep sea fish come into view: the blazing lantern fish, the bronze eels, the absurdly small and rotund puffer, and many other strange denizens of the deep. Pale white pilot fish, ghosts of their larger and more substantial brethren found at the surface, swim into view at this level. Dark spectral forms hover in the distance, never coming nearer but reappearing at deeper and darker depths. Small squids, glowing glori ously in all colors of the spectrum, teeter back and forth on their tails. At eight hundred feet one gets the first glimpse of the silver hatchet-fish, the front view of which looks like a very pompous old colonel with goggles and a high peaked cap. From the side it looks like nothing on earth, its eyes standing out irom its head like miniature lighthouses, a curious jumble of criss-crossing colors all over its body. At another stopping place one hundred feet lower, strange rat-tailed fish flash by, a blinding shower of bright green lights reflecting from their sides, while long, slender, luminiscent eels wriggle off into the shadows. Between the depths of twelve and thirteen hundred feet is a space of terrible blue emptiness where not a light or organism of any kind is visible. When this space is past, life, mostly of a luminous nature, once more returns. At fourteen hundred feet the cameraman is sitting in absolute silence, his face reflecting a ghastly bluish sheen, his pulses throbbing and his hands cold and damp, when the bottom is felt. The journey of breath-taking sights is over. When he steps once more into our common little world he is dazed and in¬ credulous. When asked the ever recurring question, “How did it feel,” etc., he can only quote Herbert Spencer: “I felt like an infinitesimal atom floating in illimitable space.”

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BOOK Page seventy-seven McMurchy, out for a stroll, wandered through the church-yard, gazing idly on the inscriptions on the tombstones. “Not dead but sleeping,” read one particu¬ larly aged stone. McMurchy scratched his head, mediated for a minute, then re¬ marked, “He sure ain’t fooling anyone but himself.” Everything comes to him who orders hash. The following conversation was overheard when two Western Canada Grads met: First—“Well, I finally passed French.” Second—“Honestly ?” First—“Aw, don’t be so curious.” Mr. Gislason—“Go on with the translation, Yule.” Silence from Yule. Mr. Gislason—“Just dispense with the silent player and continue.” A man approached Hutton and said—“Would you join our society for the abolishing of tipping? The membership fee is twenty-five cents.” To which the doughty one replied, “In that case it will be cheaper for me to tip.” The train came to a grinding stop which jarred all the passengers. “What is the matter, conductor,” asked. Miss Maxwell. “We just ran over a cow,” replied the conductor. “Was it on the track?” “No, we chased it into a bam.” Bruce Jacobs entered a restaurant and sat down at a table. The waiter approached with a shuffling gait. Bruce—“Have you got frogs’ legs?” Waiter—“No, sir, I’ve got rheumatism.” Gregg—“I never speak to my inferiors, do you?” Hoar—“I dunno; I never met any of your inferiors.” Carrie Speer—“They say Barbara Jarman plays badminton just like a man.” Geraldine Mavor—“Wouldn’t you think she’d be ashamed to use such lan¬ guage?” ... Judge—“W. L. Hutton, eh; What is the charge, officer?” Officer—“Driving while in a state of extreme infatuation.” Mary Davidson (at fight)—“I heard some one yell ‘fowl.’ Where are the feathers ?” Spencer—“Oh, this is a fight between two picked men.” Betty—“Oh, look at the rhinoceros.” Gregg—“That’s not a rhinoceros, it’s a hippopotamus; can’t you see it ain’t got no radiator cap?” sK :Jc Mr. Harding—“What’s the difference between water and ice?” Taylor—“The price.” Corbet—“Do you like music?” Wales—“Yeah, but keep right on playing.” Miss Sage—“What is the Order of the Bath?” Russell—“Pa first, and then Ma, and then us kids.”