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Robert 'Brian Douglas Phippen 

Michael Hare Edward Lowry 

Ian Hamilton William Purves-Smith 


Peter Van Royen Bo Barter 


E. C. Beer Ward Cornell 



on tents 


















(f. i¥L. Jjaaay lllaitlana 

loyal friend of [Pickering College 

ana member of its staff since 1927 

this volume ts most affectionately aeaicatea. 

"^e (Bob' a man anh no pomer can stop you." 


cJo [Daddy 1 1 Laitland 

from an Address by Joseph McCulley, M.A., at Pickering College, 

May 5th, 1951. 

The story is a simple one. It goes back to 1927 and the dream of a "Can- 
adian" school, where education of mind, heart, and hand could combine to 
produce the cultured man. 

It was my good fortune — yours and that of Pickering College — that 
there was a J. A. Maitland available. He was a craftsman, one whom the 
Bible describes as "a workman who needed not to be ashamed". He had 
already had experience in a residential school. And then, at a time when 
most men would already have been thinking of retirement, he joined the team 
of callow youths who handled the academics (our average age was 22 - 23!) 
He gave dignity, experience and maturity to our little group. 

You all came to know Mr. Maitland — I've always called him that. He 
was my senior, my elder, my better and my preceptor in more ways than he 
will ever know. But you referred to him as Daddy and, as is so often the case, 
your schoolboy instinct was right! He was in very truth a "daddy" to all. 

Of only two of his qualities would I speak, both of them Quaker qualities. 
There is in him a transparent honesty, neither subtle nor complicated but as 
honest as the good wood with which he worked. He has always abhorred the 
false, the phony, the meretricious ; a job done by Daddy is done to endure. 
What a lesson for us in this day when we think that a coat of paint will 
cover deficiencies of workmanship and put our trust in outward appearance 
and glittering show. Here is an honest man — what higher tribute can we pay? 

Then I would speak of his tolerance, from which stemmed his infinite pa- 
tience. He didn't always agree with the young "buckoos" who were his col- 
leagues and at times he approved less of the antics of some of you, his students. 
But he tolerated us all because he loved us and was patient beyond measure 
because he always hoped that we would find the better way — in spite of our 
lapses from the paths he deemed proper. 

And so, while others have come and gone, Daddy has stayed on. He 
didn't retire, but merely cut down a bit on his hours and relaxed a few of 
his earlier responsibilities. You couldn't keep him away from this hilltop. 
His life is a golden thread which binds the school generations together. On 
that day when the Headmaster no longer sees Daddy Maitland trekking up 
the back road to the workshop, Pickering College will be the poorer! 

We hope that day will never come. Come though it will, the tradition that 
is Pickering College will always be the richer for his contribution to it 

For your creed, Daddy Maitland, expressed in your thoughts, words and 
actions, we thank you and salute you. 


Ashley and Crippen 

Jt 8. 9C. Giourke, 771. JT. (harvard) 

the headwnaster 9 s message 

Some Thoughts for the Graduates 

JVTot long ago I came upon a quotation from Will Durant's 'The Mansions 
*-* of Philosophy'. It seems to me to carry a special message for those who 
are leaving Pickering College to tackle new problems. Here's what Durant 
says : 

"Do not require too much of the universe; there are other demands 
made upon it which may conflict with yours. You are a part of the 
whole, and every other part will expect you to remember it. Ask too 
much and it shall not be given you; knock too loudly and it shall not 
be opened unto you; seek impatiently and you shall not find .... 
Perhaps if you could see the entirety you would perceive, like Job, 
that the order of the planets is more important than your sores. 

Cultivate your garden. Do not place your happiness in distant 
lands or in grandly imagined tasks; do well what you can do, until 
you can do greater things as well." 

This is good, sound stuff for you to think about. You have made some 
preparations for your new tasks. It is to be hoped that these preparations 
have been made as a basis for service rather than for self-seeking. The 
measure of our civilization is the measure of our ability to think unselfishly, to 
value fairly our personal desires and our social responsibilities. To think 
too much of our rights and too little of our duties is to court disaster. "Ask 
too much and it shall not be given to you." 

Every Headmaster is familiar with the Old Boy who returns to his 
school complaining about life — the Old Boy who has knocked too loudly and 
sought too impatiently. When graduates expect too much, they may have 
been spoiled by their school. I hope that Pickering College hasn't spoiled 

"Cultivate your garden." Make the most of your gifts, and don't be 
heartsick over achievements that can never be yours. You must prepare for 
great responsibilities by being faithful in little things. No employer will be 
deceived by the promise, 'I'll improve when the job gets bigger'. 

You must be ready to take the bitter with the sweet. There may be tasks 
that offer no unpleasantness, no dishwashing, but I do not know of them. 
A great teacher once said: "He is indeed a fortunate man who spends 50% 
of his time doing what he wants to do." Don't demand too much of your job. 

There is my message: don't demand too much. The spirit of Pickering 
urges you to make modest demands, but to give full measure. 

Robert E. K. Bourke. 


savour the salt 

Drink in the FLEETING moments of clarity when a commonplace event im- 
presses you with the infinite possibilities of its existence — when you 
suddenly perceive its relation to the vast pageant of creation. 

Do more than this : seek out these moments ; watch for them and grasp 
them as handfolds to the infinite. 

Then you might realize the humbleness and the insignificance of your 
existence and at the same time its infinite effects. Yes, savour the universal 
import of each incident — for therein lies the salt, the condiment to the banquet 
of life. 

svhaal committee 

This year the school was blessed with a peaceful but active committee. 
The political stability was remarkable, perhaps a little dangerously so. 

In the first week the temporary committee was elected with Ivan Mencik 
as chairman. The committee then appointed Ed Lowry as secretary, Al Snider 
as Fire Chief, Terry Sumner as Food man; "Conscientious" Dave Bullock was 
Rudy-Man and Ian Hamilton supervised downtown dress, while Bruce Ames 
and George Benness had to look for their own trouble. After the committee 
demonstrated its effectiveness on New Boys' Night, the new students joined 
with the old and returned the same gang to office. At Christmas the same 
group was returned again. 

At Easter the order of things was broken by a three-way tie for last 
place, so we added Ted Helwig and Denny Burton who gave us new blood. 

We are grateful to Mr. Beer for his work in liaison between staff and 
committee. It seemed like a thankless job but he did it both conscientiously 
and, par excellence, diplomatically. 

Ivan, Bruce, George and Terry arranged a chapel service at which they 
discussed happiness from different points of view. The other four had planned 
to give a talk but it was one of the many things lost in the "lost weekend". 

The committee made a move to establish a general fund Avhich they could 
use to cover expenses in the upkeep of the common room, staff-senior club 
etc., and initiated discussions which improved the dress regulations and wait- 
ing system. 

The committee, an important part of our school picture, did a good job. 
There were few occasions where they could rise to great heights but the day 
to day tasks were handled effectively and successfully. The quarantine week- 
end was a challenge for leadership and the committee met the test admirably 
and helped to convert a rather dismal situation into a reasonably pleasant ex- 


School Committee 
Standing: Mr. Rourke, Helwig, Burton, Benness, Hamilton, Bullock, Mr. Beer. 
Seated: Snider, Sumner, Mencik (Chairman), Lowry (Secretary), Ames. 

the graduating class 

"To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." 

Here are presented those members of our matriculation and business courses 
who are leaving Pickering to begin university or business careers. This 
short summary, although indicative of a rich and varied programme, fails to 
mention their academic responsibilities which, added to their other activities, 
helped fill out their days at Pickering. 

To our graduates as well as to students in lower forms who may be leaving 
us at this time, may we extend a warm invitation to come back and visit us. 
Our best wishes go with you wherever you may be in future years. 

AMES, BRUCE— Five years at Pickering, from Durham, Ont. . . . School 
Committee all year . . . Quaker Cracker editor, winter term . . . Dramatic 
and Glee Clubs . . . Princeps Club, president one term . . . First colours, 
senior football, senior prep, basketball . . . red intra-mural team, tennis, soft- 
ball track and field . . . eventual role : business executive. 


BARKELL, ROSS — Staunch representative of the north, hailing from Kirk- 
land Lake ... At Pickering four years . . . Dramatic Club, Glee Club, 
Princeps Club, Quaker Cracker . . . Second colours, junior A football, senior 
North York basketball, track and field, softball, blue intra-mural team ... A 
graduate of our business course. Plans business life in Kirkland Lake. 

BARIL, BERNARD — Native of Temiskaming, Quebec, and representative of 
French Canada . . . Two years at Pickering . . . Second colours . . . senior 
hockey team, junior A football team, tennis, track and field, red intra-mural 
team . . . Plans to enter Normal School at North Bay and later teach French 
in high school . . . Bonne chance, Bernard ! 

BATES, DAVID — At Pickering two years, from Lansing, Ont. . . . President 
of upper north corridor . . . Glee Club and Root of Minus One Club . . . 
Second colours . . . junior A football team, senior North York basketball, soft- 
ball, silver intra-mural. Plans to study zoology and wild life (!) at U.B.C. 

BENNESS, GEORGE — A four-year man from Toronto . . . Member of school 
committee . . . Glee Club chorus, Princeps Club, president one term . . . 
second colours . . . senior football, captain of the senior North York basketball 
team, softball, silver intramural team. Plans to become customs broker. 

BENNETT, JOHN — With us for two years . . . from Leamington and New York 
. . . Member of the Dramatic Club, Princeps Club . . . First colours, senior 
football, senior prep, basketball . . . Year captain of the blue intra-mural team 
. . . Track and field . . . Plans to go on to college. 

BOLLOCK, DAVID — Three years at Pickering from Toronto . . . School com- 
mittee member all year . . . chairman of dance executive . . . Thirty Club, 
president one term . . . First colours . . . senior football, captain of senior prep, 
basketball team . . . Red intra-mural team, track and field, softball . . . Next 
year, Business Administration at Western. 

CALDER, DONALD — Up from our Lethbridge circuit . . . two years at 
Pickkering . . . President of lower north corridor . . . Dramatic and Glee 
Clubs, Root of Minus One Club . . . Second colours . . . senior football, senior 
North York Basketball, softball, red intra-mural team . . . Next year Ryerson 
Institute and then the business world. 

CHISHOLM, BROCK— With us one year from Geneva, Switzerland . . . Lower 
north corridor committee, Glee Club, Princeps Club, president one term 
. . . Third colours, junior A football, second hockey, softball, red intra-mural 
team . . . Plans to take Meds. at the University of Toronto. 

HAMILTON, Ian — Another gift from Lethbridge ... at Pickering two years 
. . . Member of school committee, president of upper south . . . Glee Club, 
Thirty Club, Voyageur editorial staff, Quaker Cracker . . . First colours, senior 
football, senior North York basketball, softball, silver intra-mural team . . . 
Next year . . . Business Administration at Western. 

HARE, MICHAEL— A three-year man from Toronto . . . Polikon Club, 
Voyageur editorial staff . . . Quaker Cracker editor last year . . . Second 


colours, senior prep, basketball, captain of Hare's Hounds Softball team, track 
. . . silver intra-mural team . . . Going to University of Toronto in Commerce 
and Finance . . . future : financial tycoon. 

HELWIG, TED — Native of Hamilton, two years at Pickering . . . Member of 
school committee, Princeps Club, president one term, Dramatic Club 
lead, Glee Club, Quaker Cracker . . . First colours, senior football, senior 
prep, basketball manager . . . red intra-mural team . . . Next year : McMaster 
University, later president of several insurance companies. 

LOWRY, ED. — Two years at Pickering, from Toronto . . . Widdrington Award 
winner, secretary of school committee all year . . . able decorator for non- 
existent dances . . . Polikon Club, speaker one term . . . chief spirit behind 
donation of United Nations flag . . . Dramatic Club . . . Voyageur, Quaker 
Cracker . . . Second colours, junior A football, soccer, junior prep, basketball 
. . . silver intra-mural team . . . Entering University of Toronto to study math- 
ematics and science ... A lover of crises ... we predict a political career as a 

MENCIK, Ivan — Four years at Pickering, from Toronto . . . Garratt Cane and 
Widdrington Award winner . . . chairman of school committee all year . . . 
took the lead of Grosvenor in the Glee Club's Patience . . . Thirty Club, president 
one term . . . First colours, senior football, senior hockey, Softball, year captain of 
the winning silver intra-mural team. Next year: Ryerson Institute and archi- 
tectural draughting. 

McBAIN, ROBERT — Champion of Kirkland Lake and parts north, one year 
at Pickering, member of the Thirty Club, secretary one term . . . First 
colours, senior football, senior North York basketball, track and field, silver 
intra-mural team, softball . . . Plans to enter Medicine or Engineering at the 
University of Toronto. 

MICKLE, BRUCE— Hails from Temiskaming, Quebec ... at Pickering for 

two years, member of the Root of Minus One Club, Quaker Cracker 

. . . Third colours, soccer, senior prep, basketball team, blue intra-mural team, 

tennis . . . Going on to Ryerson or commercial school before entering business. 

O BRIAN, ROBERT— At Pickering two years from Chatham, Ontario . . . 
Dramatic Club, Polikon Club, secretary one term, Voyageur editorial 
staff, Quaker Cracker editor spring term . . . Second colours, senior football, 
senior North York basketball, blue intra-mural team ... a member of the in- 
telligentsia . . . Plans to go on to university ... we predict a literary career. 

PHIPPEN, I )OUG LAS— Hailing from Sarnia, Ontario . . . with us for two 
years . . . Polikon Club, Quaker Cracker editor, Voyageur, photographic editor 
. . . Dramatic Club last year . . . Senior hockey team manager, third football 
team, red intramural team . . . Plans university career followed by F.B.I, or 
diplomatic service. 


SKEITH, STEWART— A Prairie boy from New Dayton, Alberta ... at Picker- 
ing three years, member of the Polikon Club, Glee Club . . . Second 
colours, senior football, senior prep, basketball, red intra-mural team . . . Plans 
to study at Olds Agricultural College, Alberta. 

SNIDER, ALLAN — A five-year man from Toronto . . . Widdrington Award 
winner, school committee all year . . . Fire Chief during the year of the 
Great Fire . . . Polikon Club, speaker one term . . .Glee Club . . . First colours, 
senior football, senior hockey, year captain of the red intra-mural team, Softball 
. . . Next year 's plans uncertain . . . wherever he may be : a great co-operator. 

STORIE, TOM— With us one year, from Oshawa . . . Thirty Club, president 
one term, corridor president, dance decorating committee . . . First 
colours, senior football, senior North York basketball, blue intra-mural team, 
sports' day captain, track and field, Softball, tennis . . . Entering McGill to 
study engineering. 

SUAREZ, ALFONSO — Outstanding representative from South America ... At 
Pickering one year from Sogamoso, Colombia . . . Dramatic Club, Root 
of Minus One Club . . . dance decorating committee . . . First colours, soccer, 
senior prep, basketball, blue intra-mural team, track and field ... To study en- 
gineering at McGill and look after Storie. 

SUMNER, TERRENCE— From Thornhill, Ontario, at Pickering four years 
. . . School committee two years, Glee Club lead, Dramatic Club lead, 
Root of Minus One Club's suckerterry, Library committee, Quaker Cracker 
. . . First colours, two years, captain of senior football team, senior hockey, 
red intra-mural team, sports' day captain last year, Softball, track and field 
. . . Next year : Arts at Western. 

UNDERHILL, ALBERT— At Pickering nearly four years, from Toronto . . . 
Dramatic Club lead, Thirty Club, Quaker Cracker editor, fall term . . . 
First colours, senior football, senior hockey, sports' day captain of the red 
intra-mural team, softball . . . Plans to go on to university in Arts. 

VAN ROYEN, PETER— Our American cousin from Silver Spring, Maryland 
. . . With us one year, member of the bar for the Dramatic Club, Voyageur, 
editorial staff, Root of Minus One Club . . . Second colours, senior prep, basket- 
ball, junior A football, softball, silver intra-mural team . . . Going on to college 
in the Uinited States, majoring in mathematics and science or engineering. 

VASSAR, CHARLES — Native of Oshawa, Ontario, at Pickering eight years 
. . . Polikon Club, speaker one term, Glee Club, Dramatic Club lead 
. . . Second colours, senior football, senior hockey, sports' day captain of the 
victorious silver intra-mural team . . . Next year: McGill . . . P.C. won't be quite 
the same without him. 

WHOLTON, SHIEL— Two years at Pickering from Gait, Ontario . . . Graduate 

of the business course, member of the Glee Club, member of the silver 

intra-mural team, track and field . . . Plans to enter the business world next year. 


school awards 

The school extends congratulations to those students who have been 
recognized for their outstanding contributions to this year's student body 
and to Pickering College. 

IVAN MENCIK— The Garratt Cane, given by a vote of the graduating 
class to that student who most approximates the Pickering ideal. 

ton Award, for community service. 

JOHN BROWNLEE— The Rogers Cane, awarded to that student in Firth 
House who best serves, in deed and spirit, his fellow students and 
Pickering College. 

Allan Snider, Ivan Mencik, Ed. Lowry 


We take pleasure in announcing that the Rousseau French prize of the 
value of fifty dollars has been awarded to Archie Williamson. This 
award has been given by Mr. Real Rousseau, of Montreal, to the student who 
has shown the greatest interest and ability in the study of the French language 
during the past year. We should like to take this opportunity to thank Mr. 
Rousseau for his generosity and to congratulate Archie on being the first 


chapel 1950-I95M 

Our chapel services this year were as usual under the able direction of Mr. 
Rourke and his colleagues. Wally Meikle was responsible for the fine piano 
accompaniment for the hymns. At the Easter and Christmas services, Mrs. 
Rourke, Mrs. Jackson and Mrs. Beer offered some beautiful songs of devotion. 
Fred Hagan was responsible for the strikingly lovely Christmas service chapel 
set that was done in a mosaic-like Byzantine style. 

Through the year, some of the highlights were as follows: 

On October 15th, 1950 Mr. Rourke, as a reception for new students, spoke on 
"Sleeping Swords", the idea of the talk coming from the line in "Jerusalem". 

On October 22nd the Reverend Wm. P. Jenkens of the Unitarian Church, 
Toronto, spoke to us on the beliefs of his church. 

On November 26th Rabbi Sydney 0. Goldstein from the Temple Hesed 
Abraham, Jamestown, New York, spoke on ' ' What Christians should know 
about Judaism". 

On December 17th the annual Christmas Candlelight service was held with 
Mr. Rourke speaking on the text "They looked up and saw a star". Many 
parents and guests enjoyed the service and the beautiful setting. 

On February 4th Dr. Karl S. Bernhardt spoke on "Growing Up". 

February 25th was the service in which the student committee participated. 

On March 11th Mr. Vernon F. McAdam, Executive Director of the "Boys' 
Clubs of Canada ' ' spoke on the work of this group and about other schools who 
are less fortunate than we. He asked for a clothing drive for a school in 
Montreal and recently we collected a large amount of used clothes for them. 

March 18th marked our Easter Chapel service in which Mr. Rourke spoke 
on "If a man die, shall he live again?" 

A Forest Hill Village High School teacher, Mr. Ted Jarvis, spoke to us 
on April 15th on the subject "Failing Successfully". 

On April 22nd Dr. Richard D. Jones, Executive Director of the "Can- 
adian Council of Christians and Jews" made a powerful and interesting speech 
on racial discrimination and told of his travels about the world. 

On April 29th Reverend C. W. Sowby, Headmaster of Upper Canada 
College, gave a talk on St. Peter. 

The most unique service of the year was the last but one, held on May 
20th, when the masters and students studied the last 20 years' chapel forms 
and compiled a 12-sheet chapel form, consisting of the most-read lines and 
most-sung hymns. The purpose was to give the graduating class a permanent 
memory of what Pickering College Chapel services stand for. 

At the closing Chapel of the year the Headmaster gave a memorable address 
to us all, the graduating class in particular, entitled "A Date with Destiny". 



the tre€BSure of busaga 

At that time we were four brothers. My older brother and I were at 
school, so every morning we had to be up before seven. For that reason 
we used to go to bed early and sleep all the night through as good children 
do. But we never went to sleep before our nurse Josephina had finished telling 
us one of her stories. She had to polish our shoes every night so in the morn- 
ing we would have time to eat breakfast and run to the school. While she was 
doing the polishing, she used to tell us one of her best stories. 

One night I remember well. Josephina was seated between the two big 
beds with her eyes on the shoes and her mind thinking about some strange ad- 
venture. In the bed on her right side, two of my brothers sat up listening. 
In the bed on her left, my brother and I sat up in the same way. On that 
night she started thus : 

There was once in the city of Tunja a poor man called Pito Perez. This 
man had a very miserable job, which was to sweep the streets of the city. He 
didn 't have any family or anything to care for. His only possession was a 
tiny bottle of Holy Water, that he carried with him wherever he went. He 
was earning only a few centavos a month and he used to eat and sleep in 
the town jail. 

After lunch, as he lay in the sun in the patio of the jail, Pito used to 
think and dream of the old legends he had heard when he was younger. There 
was one that filled his mind night and day. This legend tells that when the 
Spanish Conquerors came to Colombia, the powerful tribe Chibcha was ruled 
by a courageous Indian called Buzaga. When this Indian learned of the 
proximity of the Spanish Captain Jimenez de Quezada, he decided to take all 
his gold and jewels up to the mountains and hide this treasure in a cave in 
a secret place. When the Spanish soldiers came into the city, they found only 
a few golden coins and jars, and though they tortured and killed all the chiefs, 
they could not discover the place where Buzaga had hidden his treasure. 

Pito Perez had long wondered if he could find the famous cave and no few 
times he had imagined himself driving a car like the governor's, drinking cham- 
pagne instead of chicha, and doing a hundred more fantastic things. 

One Saturday morning Pito decided not to sweep the streets any more, 
but to go up to the mountains looking for what he wanted. He started to 
climb the hills early in the morning and at mid-day lie found himself in a 


very strange place that he had never seen before. There was a sort of hut 
all black outside and a strong sulphur odour in the air. Pito decided to enter 
the place to see if somebody was around. When he passed the door, he saw 
a small room with no windows at all. At the back of the room a very little, 
old man was seated in a chair smoking a pipe. When he saw Pito he grinned 

"You are looking for the Treasure of Buzaga, aren't you?" the old man 

Pito was surprised when the old man said that but he took it as an indi- 
cation that he was on the right trail. 

"Yes," Pito said after a few seconds. "But," he continued, "why do 
you ask me that? Do you know anything about the treasure?" The old man 
grinned again. He took two or three puffs at his pipe and then he said : 

"Sabe mas el diablo por viejo que por diablo. (Well, the devil knows more 
because he is old than because he is the devil.) I've been here many years 
and I have met many men who were looking for the treasure. They asked 
me the same questions again and again. I told them what I knew about it but 
they did not listen to me, so they never found the cave." 

"What did you tell them?" Pito asked eagerly. "Listen," the old man 
said. "Listen very carefully. I am going to make a deal with you. If you 
agree with me, you will be the richest man in this place. If you don't, then 
you will be as miserable as you are now for the rest of your life." Pito was 
sweating from his head to his feet and he said nothing. 

"This is it," the old man continued, "I know where the treasure of Buzaga 
is hidden. I discovered the secret a long time ago from an old Indian, who 
came here with three bullet wounds in his back. He was shot by two bandits 
who were looking for the same thing you are. I did all that I could for him 
but he died after a few hours. But before he died he told me the exact place 
where I could find the treasure." 

"What have you been waiting for?" Pito asked with curiosity. 

"Look," said the old man, taking away the blanket which was covering 
his legs. The poor ancient was crippled from the knees down. 

"Now you know why I haven't been looking for the cave. I've been 
waiting for a valiant man like you to make my dream possible. Now this is 
the deal of which I told you before: If you will carry me on your back all 
the way up, we can go and find the treasure. That would be very simple for 
you. What do you say?" 

Pito was all excited after listening to the cripple. 

"When shall we go?" he said at once. 

' ' Tomorrow morning before dawn, ' ' was the answer. 

The next day they started walking early, Pito carrying the old man as 
he had promised. They travelled for about four hours without resting and 


;ii the end of this time Pito was exhausted. Be could no1 walk one more step 
with that burden on his back thai seemed to become heavier and heavier. He 

asked many limes if they were near the cave. "A few more steps and we 
get to it", the old man replied each time. A1 Ias1 they climbed to a high peak 
and there the crippled man ordered Pito to stop and put him on the ground. 

After he was sealed on the grass, Pito look a look around and saw a very beauti- 
ful view of all the little pueblos, the haciendas with green sugar cane planta- 
tions, the fields of golden wheat and big pastures with thousands of cattle; on 
his left hand the famous emerald mines of Alu/,o; on his right, the coal mines 
of Topaga; and far away he could see the rich Sllgamuxi valley, the most 
fertile land in all the country around. 

"Would you like to he master of all this.'" the ancient asked. 

Pito said nothing, lie was looking down on the picturesque surroundings 
and dreaming of being the owner of all these rich lands. Then something 
strange happened. The crippled man rose up on his knees ami putting his 
hand on Pito's shoulders, said: 

"Pito, you will have all the treasure upon only one condition: if you 
promise me thai when you die you will give your soul to me." 

Pito was paler than the snowflake and trembling like a bird in front of 
a snake. He saw il all clear. The false old man was the proper devil in one 
of his many forms. Pito thoughl of the money, of the car, of the cham- 
pagne, and all the good money does in 1 he world. Bui he visualized himself 
"en el septimo pailon del infierno" (in the seventh oven of hell), suffering 
the tortures of the damned, lie made up his mind and he remembered the 
liny bottle of sacred water thai he had in his pocket, lie look il out. opened 
it, ami threw the water into the devil's face saying: "Salanas, yo esloy con 
Dios! (Devil, I am with God)". The old man disappeared and Pito started 
running away as hard as he could and he didn't stop until he was righl in 
t he middle of t he town. 

The nexl day. at six o'clock he was again sweeping the streets and think- 
ing that il is better to be a pool - man with a soul of his own than to he a rich 
man wilhout owning his own self. 

Here, Josephina finished her story. When I looked around. I saw that 
my brothers were asleep. The good woman said good-night, went over to the 
other bed, covered my brothers for the last time, and withoul making any noise, 
she turned off 1 he lighl and lefl the room. 

1 couldn'1 go to sleep for another hour, thinking of the choice Pito made 
instead of finding the treasure of Buzaga. 




A city, the greatest concentration of the results of man 's efforts which 
exists, leaves many different impressions in the minds of its creators, 
but to me, the most vivid impression is the one I get from a city at night. 
At night the city is a different world. At night the noise is stilled; the 
dirt and filth are concealed under a blanket of darkness, and the city 
becomes a fairyland of light and shadow. The buildings, cold, forbidding, and 
massive by day, are now but a dark background for a myriad of lighted 
windows. The long aisles of blackness which are the streets are a shadowy 
unknown. The streetlamps, so inconspicuous by day, become glaring beacons. 
A streetcar is, by night, a noisy little island of light and life, which comes and 
then goes, leaving everything as it was before. 

Have you ever seen a city by night reflected in a harbor? There the lights 
are given motion by the ripples of the water, and the city becomes an ever- 
changing pattern of flashing lights and black shadow. Rain may come with 
the night, and the city will appear even more beautiful. When there is rain 
by day, there is grayness, but at night the wet streets and sidewalks reflect the 
lights and the city is iridescent. 

The people by night are nothing like the people by day. By daylight, 
every person is an individual ; his features are different and his clothes are 
different from those of his fellows. At night every man loses his individuality 
and becomes just another shadow, with but one thing to distinguish him from 
the inanimate shadows of the city. He has motion. He is a slowly moving 
silhouette, then he steps into the cone of light from a streetlamp, is, for a 
moment, sharply outlined, and then disappears into the darkness beyond the 

But the magic of the night cannot last forever. The sky lightens and the 
stars and moon fade out. Shadowy black masses begin to take on form, the 
lights pale, then morning comes, and the beauty and mystery vanish with the 

— Peter Van Royen 


The other day a thought struck me, 

Why do lemmings drown at sea? 

But another strange thing, 

And it's just as dim, 

Why do humans bend to their every whim? 

'Brian Born. 



John Carrick was sitting in the Headmaster's office. He sat in the straight 
hard-backed chair before the large formidable desk. His hands were 
moist and clammy as he held them tightly on his lap. He had an unusually 
queer feeling in the pit of his stomach, almost like the feeling or sensation that 
he always got before playing in a game for the school. 

His mind raced rapidly, bringing back memories of the past three years. 
He hadn't like private school life at first. He had been shy, and many of the 
fellows who were now his pals had taken it for aloofness. As time went on, he 
had become friendly with many of the boys, and he had begun to take an interest 
in school life. By the end of John's second year he was considered one of the 
leading members in the senior group. He had played for the first rugby and 
hockey teams, acted in the school's dramatic productions, and sung in the 
chorus of the operetta. John knew that he was now an accepted member of 
the school and he was happy and proud that he went to Raleigh College. His 
mind turned again and again to the past. Oh, how well he remembered the 
weekends when he and the fellows had had those roaring parties in the city. 
All these memories and hundreds more he recalled as he sat there waiting. Now 
his confident happy life lay shattered around him and he was left alone to face 
the penalty. What had they called him? — "a disgrace to society". 

The doorhandle slowly turned and he heard muffled voices talking outside. 
The door swung open and Mr. Walton, the Headmaster, walked in. John shot 
a quick glance at him as he walked to the desk. His yellow, pasty face, witli 
small, darting, close-set eyes sickened the boy. The short brusque steps he took, 
swaying his middle-aged spread which he carried like a pregnant woman, seemed 
only to increase in John 's mind the seriousness of his situation. The Head, who 
had taken over this year, had long antagonized John, and the boy felt that 
Walton's feelings were mutual. If it had been their old Headmaster, John 
wouldn't have felt quite so badly. But he had been killed in an automobile 
accident last summer. His death had left John stunned, for he had looked up 
to him as a wise teacher and a good friend. 

The Head looked over his shoulder and said : 

"I'll be with you in a moment, young man." Picking up a letter from his 
desk, he walked out. 

Alone again. 

This waiting, John thought, was driving him crazy. He wished it was 
all over. He didn't know what to do. He shifted uneasily in his chair, looking 
first at his hands, then his feet, then back to his hands He glanced up at the 
pictures on the wall. Some of them were old and faded and the people were 
dressed in suits typical of the 1920 's. Others were more recent and he knew 
several of the boys whose photographs now hung in honour on the Headmaster's 
wall. Were they accusing him too? 


He was beginning to feel sick. He wished desperately thai he could get up 
and go away from everyone, and from his own troubles. No, that was a hopeless 
thought; ho had to face reality, lie stood up. thrust his hands in his pockets, 
and stared blankly at the floor. lie felt the package of cigarettes in his pocket. 
How he longed for a smoke. 

John had just sat down when the door suddenly opened and the secretary 
poked in her head, saw him and said "Excuse me"; giggling she pulled 1 lie door 
shut. "Even she knew about it'", he thought. "Well. I don '1 care, lei the 
whole bloody town know!" 

The door opened again and the Headmaster walked in. He sal down 
behind the broad desk and looked al John as if the boy were a pari of the 
wall. The only thin" that seemed to move in thai forbidding stare were his eye- 
lids as they blinked up and down. 

Suddenly his voice broke the silence. 

"Carrick, you have disgraced the school, your family, and yourself." lie 
paused, took off his glasses, and wiped them. 

"You know thai you shall have to pay for this." 

•John didn'1 answer anil once again the voice droned on. 

"I feel in all fairness to the school and everyone else concerned that I 
iniisl ask you to leave. 

John looked up. His eyes stared blankly it the pudgy expressionless face 
before him. All fear was gone now. only the grim determination to play the 
Head's game, avoid direct answers, and keep a hard serene expression on his 
face. He knew this was the moment when he must try to defend himself. Lean- 
ing forward, sure of himself, lie said in a quid voice which was unafraid, 
"'Sir. I hardly know how to tell you or explain, but you must know thai the 
person who disclosed this information has by no means a reputable character. 
I am not trying to shrink' from the blame or say that 1 am innocent." The 
Head's belligerent voice broke in. 

"There's no use trying to lie or heap sympathy upon yourself. Carrick." 

"I am not. Sir, I only ask thai you wail and be sure," said John. "I am 
sure that sounder evidence than the words of one person can be secured." 

"It's no use, Carrick. you shall have to take your medicine like a man." 

Each word stung like a blow on the face. John sat stunned by the 
I leadmaster's words. 

The cold voice again broke the silence. 

"Well, have you anything to say for yourself now?" 

"Sir, il 's just . . ." What was the use.' Yes. he had many things to 
say for himself, but they could not be said honourably. The photographs looked 
down upon him, 


'"I don't want alibis. Carrick, I want facts." 

"No sir, I have nothing to say." 

"'Then thai will be all. you may leave." 

Somehow he gel up. stumbled to the door in a daze, opened it, and closed 
it quietly behind him. 

lie walked, outwardly calm, inwardly seething, to the stairs. I'p one 
flight, two, three, turned down the dim hall to Ids room, entered and sat stiflix 
at the desk near the window. He looked out on the sunny street while his mind 
spun wilh disconnected thoughts. The rage of his father, the hurt eyes of his 
mother, how could he face them.' He buried his face in his hands. Time passed 
. . . lie felt at last nothing but dull fear and nausea, a hopelessness in his 
stomach. A girl catlghl his eye as she walked up the street. Her supple erect 
body moved with youthful grace. In his mind her gait changed to a stiff stride 
to accommodate her protruding belly and arched back. He shuddered, closed 
his eyes, then turned away to his desk. Picking up his pen. he drew towards 
him a sheet of paper wilh the school emblem on it. 

"Dear Father", he wrote. "I don't know how lo tell vol! ..." 

-Peter Grekn 

Off s l*>vp in f J u ton €» 

I think my present aversion to sharing a bed was formed quite early in life. 
When I was about eleven years old, housing exigencies at our place quite 
often compelled me to sleep with my grandmother. Not that I minded at the 
time, for my grandmother was an excellent back scratcher and I dearly loved 
having my back scratched. I think she rather benefitted too. for according to 
her I was "quite a little bundle of heat" and I was welcomed as a bed- 
companion by various members of my family on cold winter nights. 

Of course there were disadvantages too. At the time I was violently ad- 
dicted to dill pickles and liverwursl which I would eat just before bedtime. The 
resultant nightmares were terrible indeed, and my poor grandmother would 
sometimes be the recipient of a vicious kick in Hie stomach, a cruel blow to the 
eye, or at the very least a hideous curse delivered with the full power of my 
lusty, young lungs. I must say she took it rather well. She never retaliated 
by pinching, or snitched on me for swearing; she just scratched my back until 
tiie demons retreated reluctantly to wherever dill pickle and liverwursl 
demons go. 

Now 1 must reveal the experience that has put me off sleeping with people 
to this day. My grandmother was (and slid is)) a noble, hard-working woman 
who has come through the worst problems a rugged life could throw up, wilh 
banners flying. My grandmother's feel had borne the brunt of it, however. 
They were twisted and flattened and had large bunions which gave her greal 


pain. To say this, I realize, is unfair, but I will not apologize for eleven year- 
old impressions; they lasted, after all, but one year. The effects, however, of 
being caressed lightly on the leg by an aggressive bunion or a horny toenail up- 
set my drowsy nervous system badly. Immediately thoughts of scorpions, tar- 
antulas, big man-eating snakes and crafty little poisonous ones would fill my 
foggy brain. I would lie frozen, sweating profusely until I awoke fully and, 
by a process of elimination, realized that it was just dear old granny. A 
series of these nocturnal experiences rather soured me on sleeping with 

Also, Granny snored. It was a strange sound, a very strange sound. There 
was a "whuff" followed by a series of small decrepitations and ending with a 
"swoosh", rather like releasing a balloon with the neck partly constricted. It 
was very distinctive. I perfected a technique for stopping her once she had 
started, which I pass on for the benefit of some other unfortunate. 

First, I would say (pianissimo) "Nana dear, you're snoring". This 
would elicit a grunt which blended in with the "whuffs" and "snorts". I 
would repeat the same thing (fortissimo) and get the same result (fortissimo). 
Then I would deliver her a solid kick in the shins, meanwhile pretending to be 
far gone in sleep. This would awaken her with a yelp (allegro, fortissimo) 
and the next few moments would be filled with dire murmurings and rubbing 
of shinbones. She would then roll over and go back to sleep, the snoring merci- 
fully hushed. I would silently congratulate myself and follow suit. 

I don't think the old dear ever caught on, but mine would have been a 
short shrift indeed if she had. 

Since those days I have slept with a number of people with varying degrees 
of dissatisfaction. No matter whose the bed, I am never completely happy with 
the arrangements. Guest or host, 1 consider it my duty to crowd into the 
smallest possible corner of the bed and spend the night stiffly inhaling musty 
wallpaper or brassy bedframes, and hoping that in my morphean antics I won't 
seriously harm my bedfellow. 

— Terrence Sumner 


There is 

What nature has made; what man has made; 

Mayhap these will combine — and Malice, 

A green-writhing serpent, born of 

The turbulent chemical cauldron, 

Will destroy 


(From the Notebooks of O'Brian Born, who has written beneath 
this apocalyptic fragment the macabre note "Skeleton Outline".) 



Today I signed on my first ship in six months. As we back into mid-stream, 
I watch the bright shore line of Montreal fall astern, and mutter ' ' At last, 
I'm away". 

Desperation alone made me ship on this unseaworthy tramp with her rusted 
hull and unkempt deck work. The whole ship is in need of repair, from 
topping lifts to wash-ports. But at sea, fighting wind and weather, I'll feel 
safer and more confident on her, than I ever did these last six months ashore. 

We sailed on my watch, and having drawn bow look-out for the first trick, 
I turned to at eight bells. After hauling the mooring lines inboard, I settled 
down to the lookout's usual duties. There is still lots of ice in the river, be- 
sides the usual conglomeration of tugs and lighters found in any harbour. 
So I am using the fog bell frequently to help the mate and pilot get the ship 
under way and out to open water. 

The river traffic is thinning out and I'm getting cold. I'll have to run 
aft to the mess and borrow a reefer. I had a good one of my own last trip, 
but that, along with a lot of other gear, went to the hock shops. 

Looking back at the city's glow, fast disappearing, I remember his) fall 
.... It was warm then and Montreal was our first Canadian port in nine 
months. Being home again makes men do strange things, they throw cares to 
the wind, not realizing the prosperity they are enjoying. Nine months is a 
long time and a lot of money saved. "Why not spend a couple of months 
ashore? You can afford it", thought I. So I paid off with my fifteen hundred 
bucks, said so-long to my mates, and moved into the expensive type of hotel. 
Costly night-clubbing with equally expensive women kept me riding high, and 
life went along at a cracking pace for a couple of months — nothing like this 
shore life! I thought. 

One day at the bank I was rather shocked to find that there were only 
about two hundred dollars left in my account. This meant I'd be looking for 
a ship very soon. Montreal closes to shipping in the winter and the last 
freighters had cleared a month ago. It was January and the port doesn't 
open until late March. I couldn't stay here, so I closed the account and left 
the bank with the remains of ray pay-off. Saying good-bye to the "shack-up" 
I checked out of the hotel, and stacked my gear in the bus depot. I then ambled 
down to the waterfront, paying my way to some of the luckier panhandlers 
as I went. 

Joe Beef's Tavern is a favourite haunt of mine and most seamen go there 
when ashore, so I stopped in to contemplate my next move, over a few beers. 
There were only two choices — East coast or West? St. John's has good ship- 
ping all year but most are just Atlantic crossings to 'U.K.' and the continent, 
and in the winter I can think of fairer climates than the Atlantic, especially 
if you're in the deck department. So that left Vancouver; its shipping is 
never any good but there are lots of foreign ships that sail short-handed out 


of there, and I wasn't above a berth on one of those, if the worst came to the 
worst. The pay and conditions are terrible compared to Canadian standards 
lint a ship "s a ship. 

Montreal at the best of times is full of hums and the winter season only 
swells their ranks. Some are seamen but mos1 are just rubby-dubs, and Joe 
Beef's seemed to be harbouring its share of them thai day. One guy, a couple 
of tables across from me. was a seaman. Me seemed to think he knew me back 
in the war days, so he sat with me, and we talked ships and seas, ports and men 
— some we both knew — and the conversation flowed- -so did the beer which 
I was springing for! We could not find an answer to how he might know me. 
but although I am usually leery of these dockside parasites, this guy was a 
likeable and talkative fellow so we ate supper in the Tavern. By this time 1 
had forgotten about my proposed trip to Vancouver, for that day at least. The 
evening progressed, we were drinking quite a hole in my two hundred, and 
il was lime to shake this fairweather friend of mine for the benefit of my 
poeketbook. I would be needing all the money I had for belter uses in Van- 
couver. So, referring to some bus 1 had to catch. 1 bid my close-hauled friend 
good-bye and left the tavern. Starting up 1 he street with a staggering gait, 
only then did I realize just how soused I had become over the preceding hours. 

Now. whether il was the masterful work of my friend, or some other 'hard 
up' 1 can'1 tell. bu1 I woke to find I'd slepl the night in a cobbled alleyway. 
But that's no1 all. my kind roller had relieved me of my money and topcoat 
and left in their place a gifl in 1 he form of a cut and bloody head. At firsl 
it struck me as being funny. Boy, 1 sure asked for all I got! But in the 
weeks to come il was sure as hell no laughing matter. From here on I suffered 
all the hardships and indignations so many men do when their luck turns. 

To Hud work in Montreal during the winter season is hard enough in 
itself, bul for an English speaking seaman it is virtually impossible. Em- 
ployers like the man thai can "parler le francais". and have no use a1 all for 
shiftless seamen. So here I was. a bum. a man whom only a few days before. 

I scorned. How ironical! But I swallowed my pride and lived like all the 
resi of them did. For more than three months I lived like an animal. Sleep- 
ing in 1wo-bil flophouses when I was lucky, bul more often a doorway, alley 
or open box car. Sometimes getting "vagged" by the city crime-stoppers and 
spending the night in jail. In the daytime working the streets, panhandling 
the suckers, bickering with some Little twister for an extra quarter on a jackel 
or some oilier piece of gear. Bumming meals off the "Sally Ann" or a Sea- 
man's mission, a bed. clothes and even a dollar maybe, off a church or relief 
organization. It's amazing the angles and little tricks a man learns when on 
the bum. things 1 he average city-dweller has never noticed or even knew 
existed in his city. 

Mosl of whai I saw can be forgotten or remembered only as one more 
experience thai might help me somewhere else. But there was one incidenl 

that only increased my disgusl for shore life and my scorn for shore dwellers. 

II happened just before T finally cleared to sea this time and takes me back 
to the war days when it began. 

T a enty-fouT 

Near the end of the war I had paid off a ship in Montreal. Wages were 
high then and the manning pools didn'1 leave you ashore very long. Coming 
out of the saloon with my pay I was approached by a ferrety little man. He 
talked of a Seaman's mission he hoped to build and said he was canvassing 
for money. I had a fistful of hills and expecting little time in which to spend 
them, I gave him one hundred and fifty dollars, thinking il a good cause, 
lie poured out his thanks and gratefully bid me good-luck for the future 

It's funny what a bed means to a man, most of them will spend their last 
cent on a bed for the nighl even if it means going withoul food. When I 
Stumbled into that little mission one cold nighl last week, I hadn't a cent, and 
I was desperate. Going to the desk who should I find hut my little friend! 
I'd have known him anywhere and although I knew he recognized me. he made 
out he didn't. Now, only three years had gone by since our first meeting, 
hut the times had changed; he was now the secure citizen and 1 the beggar. 
P>ul even then his reply to my requesl knocked me for a loop, lie saw no 
reason why 1 should he allowed to sleep there, he said. "This mission can only 
operate when supported In paying clientele." 

Now I have seen it all. I thought, what could I do hut return to the cold 
and deserted street, inwardly raging. What could make a man like that? 
It was that night that I decided to gel to sea any way possible. . . . 

Now 1 stand here in the bows, and watch the glow of the city shrinking 
into thi' horizon. The fresh salt ail' blowing steadily on my face and the gentle 
rise and plunge of the deck beneath my feet, the roar of 1 hi' bow wave when 
the ship meets the swell, all are music 1o my ears and lend my body a new 
desire to live. As I head to sea on this rusty old tramp 1 know there's nowhere 
I'd rather be than here, away from the land and all its sweel deceptions, among 
men who think and feel as I do about life, and are lied with one common bond 
for a voyage — love of their ship ami lust for 1 he sea. 

— Iohn Luck 


A swelling steam-roar intruded on night. 

.Made it compress round my bed. 

Then - impersonal strident - remote. 

Came the sin-ill whistle note. 

And I tossed in my bed and dreamt 

a troubled dream. 

(from the Notebooks of O'Briaii Horn, young critic poet of genius recently among us.) 


blessed are the meek 

As a child and a boy, I sat side by side with my sister at the family Bible 
readings, and did my best to pay attention to the words. I suppose I 
gave little thought to what I heard, but there was one passage which inevitably 
caught my interest and over which I puzzled, it seems to me now, from my 
very earliest years. 

The passage was the sermon on the mount — often spoken of as The 
Beatitudes — and the beatitude which I found most difficult to understand 
was the one which promised the earth to the meek. "Blessed are the meek — 
for they shall inherit the earth". The meek! It struck me, as a child, that 
a world inherited by the meek was a place I could do without. And later, as 
I became conscious of the world of men and affairs, it seemed to me that 
the dictum was no more than wishful thinking. It was not so much, now, that 
I did not want the beatitude to be true, as that I could not see how it could be 

And then, for no reason that I know of, an interpretation presented itself 
to me. My difficulty had resulted from what seems to me now to have been 
a misinterpretation of terms. I had been reading the beatitude something like 

"Blessed are the timid and ineffectual, for when all other types have 
failed, they will be left to take over the planet like a colony of white rabbits." 

It sounds foolish, stated like that, but how many of you who have heard 
the beatitude have not had some such thought in mind? 

But when Christ spoke to the 'meek', did he mean the timid and the 
ineffectual, the rabbits of this world? When he spoke of 'inheriting the earth' 
was he intending to imply something in the distant future, a taking over, or 
falling heir to the actual land mass of the planet? The more I thought about 
it, the more this seemed to me an absurd over-simplification of his statement. 

'Inherit' must mean something more actual, more immediate, more possible 
to each generation. 

Suppose to inherit meant this: to be aware of the joy of living because 
of a capacity for living fully, for appreciation of the possibilities of life. Then 
the implication of the beatitude would be "that the fellow who is puffed up 
with self-importance cannot see the world as it really is, nor enjoy its benefits. 
His ego — his 'I am' — has grown too large. It has become a hedge around 
him — a hedge grown too tall for his meagre stature. He cannot see over it. 
He cannot appreciate his fellow men, or the works of his fellow men, nature, 
or the burning mysteries of life and death. 

But where does this leave us in our interpretation? What of the word 
'meek'? To whom does 'the meek' refer? 


Is there not a clue to the meaning in what has just been said? Could 
the converse of the beatitude not be stated thus: Unblessed are the arrogant 
for in their arrogance they miss most of what the world has to offer. The 
meek now, then, is the man without arrogance, without vanity, — not the 
rabbit — but, in short, the man possessed of humility. 

Blessed are those men who are possessed of the. virtue of humility, for 
it enables them to know the joys of living, to appreciate the manifold good 
things of this earth. 

The men possessed of humility — by humility what is meant ? — not, of course, 
the abject, fawning, cringing, hypocritical "umbleness" of Uriah Heep which 
was assumed to hide his evil. 

No, by humility, I mean the rarest of virtues, that virtue so out of favour 
in our time when only those personalities as garish as a brass band receive 
favourable notice. I mean that virtue given in full measure only to the very 
great of this earth — a lack of arrogance, — a lack of all the vanities, both the 
large and the small. 

Humility is the opener of doors. It unlocks the world to men. Most 
of us go through our lives armed in arrogance, and protected by the padding 
of our vanities against every appeal to our senses. Arrogance closes the 
windows on experience, substitutes what is not for what is, ignores the tapping 
of environment, and pulls in the complicated radar of the soul. 

Or I may put it in another way. Humility is a recognition that you form 
one-tenth part of a company of ten men. 

Call it by any name you will — this freedom from arrogance, this freedom 
from vanity — it is nonetheless an essential quality in the man who would know 
the world as it really is, in the man who would know his fellow men, in the 
man who would inherit the earth. 

It is a necessary ingredient of those who would be educated, for awareness 
is nine-tenths humility. What is education for if not to develop wisdom? 
And what is wisdom but the ultimate humility — the recognition that we do 
not know? Knowledge is proud that she has learned so much — wisdom is humble 
that she knows no more. 

And how do we know humility when we see it — or the man who possesses 

Look for the man who does not scoff or jeer, who brings to each question 
an open mind, to every work of his fellow men a sympathetic effort to 
understand, and who hates only the poseur, the hypocrite. 

Look for the man who is at home in any company, who does not embarrass 
the rich by flaunting his poverty, nor antagonize the poor by a depreciation 
of wealth ; who does not outrage the educated by boasting his ignorance, nor 
affront the uneducated with contempt ; who does not insult good company with 
bad manners, nor try to overawe the humble with elegance. 


If you can obtain from your education a freedom from arrogance; if your 
education can instil in you the virtue of humility, then you will be able to 
take a jusl pride in yourself and your school. 

Pew of us, indeed, are blessed with humility. We are all prone 1<> arrogance 
and to the vanities. Yet they are most damaging to us. For virtue without 
humility becomes self-righteousness, smugness, priggishness. Learning without 
humility becomes dogmatism, pedantry, intolerance. Passion without humility 
becomes all manner of unspeakable things. Even love without humility de- 
generates to self-indulgence, self-pity, self-aggrandisement at the expense of 
1 he one we love. 

If I could ask thai Pickering and its staff might do just one thin<>- for you. 
1 would ask for a big thing. I would ask that they — imperfect as they are 
themselves — might still serve to hold a mirror up to you in which you could 
see your own vanities, thai they mighl teach you the virtue of humility, and 
in that way bestow upon you your rightful heritage -- the earth. 

(from a chapel address by 

/>'. It'. Jackson.) 


The church lies in the shadows, deep. 
And all good men are fast asleep: 
The moon is full, the oighl is clear, 
The graves are still, the dead are near. 

And then, as spirits seem to Ely, 
The dawn illuminates the sky, 
And brings to earth another morn. 
When' old folk die. and babes are born. 

Inn I 'ah rson 



a- Incident. 

'he Pickering College Dramatic (tuili 
ias always been acclaimed as an experi 
mental 1 heal re of worthy note. 

The 1950 production of Tin Ox-bow hi 
cident was, perhaps, the mosl ambitious an* 
unique of all its successes. Ii combine* 
exceptional sets, by Fred Hagan, superb act- 
ing, fine direction and an exceedingly power- 
ful play. 

The Ox-bow Incident by Walter Van 
Tilburg Clark is a strong novel of the Wes 
based upon incidents which occurred in 
Nevada in 1885. 

Many drama enthusiasts remember the excellent motion picture based on 
this novel which was directed by John Ford and starred Henry Fonda and 
Dana Andrews. Many of these same drama enthusiasts, concerned with the 
theatre's problems, have wondered if a successful book, once turned into a 
successful motion picture, can still be made into a successful vehicle for the 
stage. Messrs. Charles Beer and Ward Cornell have answered the question. 
Their stage adaptation was brilliant. The narrative was developed with re- 
markable power and tension from the angered beginning in Canby's Saloon, to 
the hysterical lynching near the Ox-Bow and, finally, back in the saloon when 
the cattlemen learned of their error and were left to live out their lives with 
tortured souls. 

The cast, led by Bill Purves-Smith, Pete Wigston, Ted Helwig, Albert 
Underbill, Terry Sumner and the incomparable Mrs. Jackson, was first-rate. 
Smith's burning sincerity, Helwig 's steadiness, Wigston 's toughness, Under- 
bill's hysteria and Sumner's cold brutality were well in character. Alfonso 
Suarez, as one of the unjustly accused, played the Mex with understanding 
and feeling. Charles Vassar created a memorable role as the young husband 
about to die. Nothing more could be asked of the players. 

Great credit should be given to co-producers Meikle and Beer. They 
handled a large cast on a small stage without confusion. Never did they allow 
the mood or pace to get out of hand. 

The Ox-Bow Incident was a great performance — a perfect blend of manner 
and matter. We will watch with interest future productions by this group. 

the glee club 

would not address it to the Club of any particular year, or to any par- 
ticular members of any year, but to the Glee Club itself, as a continuing entity 
through all the years. He would try to express his inexpressible gratitude for 
the fun and suspense, the elan and beauty, the youth and gaiety and melodious- 
ness that it has brought to Pickering for so long. He would praise, this enam- 
oured reviewer, the ideal combination of youth in its freshness and verve, with 
the foresight and high standards of experience. It seems to him that, in this, 
the Glee Club eats its cake and has it too. It satisfies the critical spirit that 
asks for trained voices, musicianship, expert production. And it satisfies the 
uncritical love of zest and gusto and high spirits. 

And he would praise its veterans and the perfection of their casting. They 
are troupers, these old hands, they give us all the wit and finesse and style 
that these rich acting parts contain. Style is indeed their secret, and they 
impart a little of it, as if by contagion, to their young associates. 

This reviewer remembers declaring, in his last year at Pickering, that the 
music of "H.M.S. Pinafore" was the finest and most exciting music he would 


ever hear! This was, as he learned since, a fond illusion, but it shows the spell 
woven by these operettas for more than one Pickering youth. And that is the 
highest service of the Glee Club, that it should enchant us, should rouse our 
enthusiasm, should create light and mirth and song, and by creating them, 
make us love them. "Manifest joy" is the definition of "glee", and that is 
what our Glee Club does. It makes joy manifest to us, in a humble but endur- 
ing form, and so earns our lasting gratitude and affection. 

Who shall now be Bunthorne's bride? 

Patience was up to standard — need we say more? Well yes, we'd like to 
say, for the record, that our Bunthorne was as ineffably aesthetic as thirteen 
years ago, and our Patience as demurely radiant. Time was away, we felt, 
watching these two. The absence of Elizabeth Beer and Maire Jackson 
through illness was a sore loss. Eva Sclater won our admiration not only for 
her sterling rescue work in "getting up" Lady Jane in three days, but for a 
delightful performance. And Barbara Thompson rose courageously to the 
challenge of Lady Angela's part, and by the final night was acting with an 
ease and confidence which she made the audience share. Ivan Mencik was 
exceedingly picturesque in velvet and acted with a serenity astounding in one 
so young, and perfectly suited to the part of Grosvenor. The three dragoon 
officers were triumphs of casting and nicely differentiated. Terry Sumner and 
Bill Maguire were impeccably brisk and martial. John Luck was as indolent 
as a Duke (which he was, bye the bye). And Peter Green solicited most 
solicitously. There are other fleeting memories : the dancing curls of Lady 
Saphir ; Prank Houston 's silvery crown punctuating the music ; the startling- 
juxtaposition of Snider and Smart; the crashing entry of the Dragoons (with 
Ted Helwig's first-night staggers), and their miraculous manoeuvring; Denny 
Burton all but submerged in his helmet ; and above all, the atmosphere of happy 
tension that surrounded the last rehearsals. 

To Ward Cornell and to the extras we would say, "They also serve . . . ." 
What are we waiting for?— next vear and Iolanthe! 


sound ©/ rcwlry 

NEW HOY'S NIGHT. This is the first big evenl of the school's social season. 
After all, one can't lei a man into a community on face value, can one? Car- 
ried out in the true spirit of the occasion, resulting in several lines of we1 cloth- 
ing — likewise wel hoys. 

II ALLOW E'EN DINNER. Some folks believe in goblins and spooks and 
others don't. Too had aboul the ones who don't, they haven '1 any idea what 
they're missing, have they.' Even though the only goblin we saw was the goblin 
of the dinner, which was as soothing as was 1 he resl of the evening stimulating. 

THE CHRISTMAS BANQUET. Couldn't leave the school with a brown 
taste in our mouth, could we.' And we didn't. Why.' Well, the Christmas 
Banquet is why and I'm still wondering which was more delightful — the de- 
licious turkey or the benevolent Santa. 

FINAL BANQUET. Canada is a great nation. We want leaders who will 
keep heron top! We weren't allowed liqueur so we had Cy. Armstrong instead. 
A grand old man at a grand and fitting close to the school year. 

SUNDAY POST-PRANDIALS. There were not many after dinner musi- 
cals this year, bill those few were excellent. Outstanding were our visiting 
pianists — old friends Reg < Jodden and < ion Ion Hallett. newcomer Glenn Gould. 
Bu1 the most vivid memory of all is the memory many of us will long retain of 
Miss Lois Marshall singing her heart out and holding us all spellbound by 
her tire and ar1 istrv. 

r f © ivt h © tt rs 

Onk MOMENT A SILENT, EMPTY BOOM in which the ipiiel was stirred only by 
1 he soughing of the breeze among the thousand balloons suspended from 
the ceiling. The next, a crowded carousel, rhythmically swaying to some 
melody which Moated from the band-stand. Everywhere people laughing, gay 
as the air thai thrilled around them. The much-longed for football dance was 
on. Sometime during the mad course of the evening, a deliciously restoring 
refreshment was consumed, and then, fortified for the fray, we returned to 
the gaj scene, which grew ever more animated. This was still going on when 
the town clock chimed ou1 the witching hour, and two by 1 wo the fond merry- 
makers departed. As 1 walked through the door 1 heard someone remark. 
"Wasn't the football dance a success this year!" Someone else answered. 
■'Yes, wonderful!" and Ihe answer went echoing through the deserted ballroom. 


LL THROUGH THE WEEK the starved lads had looked forward to Ihe coming 
festival of Whitby. A1 last the big nighl had come. Thoroughly mobi- 
lized, the Pickering horde bore down upon O.L.C., scattering hydrants righl 


and left in their mad rush onward. After being ushered through the fateful 
portals of the College, the boys made their way rapidly toward the school 
gym where the most appetizing bevy of "Quail" to be seen in months awaited 
them. The hunting had begun. As usual the lads carried off the laurels, with 
Bob McBain and "Ducy" taking the spot dance and Al Wylie and his anony- 
mous mistress winning the elimination wreathes. During the course of the 
evening our "hungry" hunters were provided with refreshments — most 
welcome. The fete ended with the singing by the ladies of their paternoster, 
and the partially satisfied hunters sadly took the homeward road, no doubt think- 
ing of what golden opportunities they had missed and what brave deeds they 
would do if given a second chance. 


The auditorium, thanks to Denny Burton, Ed Lowry and the rest of the 
decorating committee, was at last finished. Perhaps it rather reeked of ancient 
Greece or Rome, but then, at dances one doesn't mind. It's called atmos- 
phere .... 

"Have you ordered your corsage?" 

"Sure! Gardenias. It's costing me two-fifty — that's plenty for a 
formal dance and anyway . . . ." 

"Are the sandwiches ready?" 

"Gee, we've spent more money than has so far been collected. We'll 
get it somewhere, though. Quite a few Old Boys will come." 

.... All the girls had been invited, and corsages had been ordered. The 
stage was set for the big night. And just think — a long week-end too! 

Then it happened! 

"I'm sorry, boys. There's nothing we can do to break it. Scarlet Fever 
Quarantine has been declared. Everything is off!" 

"What; No dance — no long week-end! I'll go mad." 

Ah misery! 


Swishing, swaying, throbbing back and forth; soft music in the air; pale 
light in the corners; a breeze whispering in the crepe streamers overhead. 
Yes, you've guessed it — the Pickering formal was on. And what a dance! — 
an eager gathering of the brave and fair, and Van de Walker with his orches- 
tra — need I say that everybody had a wonderful time? 

The auditorium decor was a modern resurrection of the ancient Greek 
styles — on a hill the Acropolis, gods and athletes looking down everywhere, 
white pillars riffling from the ceiling. 

A plump Bacchus presided over the punch-bowl enticing with ample po- 
tions the straying revellers. The new day had just begun when the dance 
ended and lingeringiy, happily, the entwined couples wended their ways home. 
fragrant hours! O youth! O Terpsichore! 


the quaker cracker 

In the spring of 1951 the "Quaker Cracker" rounded out twenty years 
of frank and fearless journalism. 

No name is so closely associated with the history of the "Cracker" as that 
of Ron Perry, its founder and guiding spirit through the first decade of its 
life. It is with great pride and affection that we here reprint his anniversary 
message to this, his oldest child. It is a message not only for the "Cracker" 
but for all of us at Pickering, past, present and to come. 

ttt 4>lltlj f/4>4IIS on 

When I received the letter asking me to write an article for the Anniver- 
sary issue of the "Cracker," I climbed to the attic and dug out my old copies of 
the "Cracker" and the "Voyageur" to invoke "the spirit of nostalgia" for 
Pickering. This was not difficult, and I spent a long, long time thinking about 
the "good old days". 

As I read, the early years of a vigorous young Pickering flashed before 
me, with Captain McCulley at the wheel supported by a youthful and athletic 
group of officers, and a small but loyal crew. Not all of this early group have 
measured out twenty years. Many gave their lives in the war; others have 
passed on. 

All of us then were joined by a common bond. For did we not assist in 
confusing the skeptics who gave Pickering only a few years to live? Were we 
not pioneering in small educational areas, chief of which was the right of the 
individual boy to be trained and developed as an individual? 

Twenty years ago an editorial committee consisting of Steve Bond, Fred 
Toller, Roy Wood, Casey Woods and myself ventured to publish a school 
paper, which we first planned to call the "Quaker Quacker", but changed to 
"Quaker Cracker" because we did not approve of the implication of the 
word "quack". 

The first issue, printed by the C. J. B. Wood Printing Company of To- 
ronto, appeared at the Christinas dinner on December 16th, 1931. It contained 
seasonable stuff and a good mixture of athletic and general school news. Many 
names of boys and staff, long since famous, were included. 

There was nothing to suggest that the "Cracker" would continue to exist 
for so many years, but the last paragraph of the editorial in this first issue 
is interesting and for many was prophetic. It read : 

"And . . . say in twenty years' time, when we are prosperous cigar-smoking 
executives, it will be worth a new office desk and a change of stenographers to 
look over the old copies of the "Cracker", read something about ourselves and 
remark: "And was I really like that?" 

Certainly a great many of the boys of twenty years ago have done well 
in business and professional life . . . and they were really like that! 


Now, looking back I can see the significance of the early days at Pickering. 
And to all the Old Guard who may chance to read this, may I just say that 
you can never adequately repay the debt to Pickering and its influence on 
your character. Perhaps unconsciously, but nonetheless true, the pattern of 
your success in life was formed at Pickering, and your achievement is the 
school's generous dividend. And as successful men, it seems not only right 
but a duty for you to go back to your school and say "You helped me; what 
may I do in return?" 

To those now at school, I should like to say: Be proud of your school. 
Fight for it, and work for it. And remember that twenty years on, you will 
be what you are because of what you did at school. You cannot afford to do 
less than your best! 

And to the editors and writers associated with the "Cracker", may I wish 
you continued success. The paper gets better and better, and is proving to be 
a most valuable record of the life and times of Pickering 

— Ron Perry 

'Meathead" Lowry winning first 
prize at Hallowe'en dinner. 


invitation clubs 

the rooters 

Left to Right: Williamson, Smart, Alger. Fourth Vice-President, Second Vice-President. 

Bates, Suarez, Baker. 
Standing: Van Royen, Stunner, Mr. Renzius, Barter. 
Squatting: Calder. 

"In the interests op science and mathematics", that's the way they identify 
*■ the Rooter's Cluh. A proud boast, and no idle one. 

The only club in the school devoted to the study of science and mathe- 
matics finished up the year with the traditional banquet of turkey and baked 
Alaska dissolved in Pogo's Pain Killer. We all agreed that it had been a 
memorable year. There were a number of very scientific gentlemen, who 
graced the roster of the club this year, such men as Jim Smart, Don Baker, 
Pete Van Royen and lots of other cold, calculating mathematicians. This year 
too, we had a graduate Rooter back in the club in the person of Ward Cornell. 
Ward left the school to acquit himself brilliantly in engineering at Queens and 


is now back teaching English. Why, even before Rooters graduate they dis- 
tinguish themselves. This year Don Calder, possessor of a crystal-clear ana- 
lytical brain, won the Dow Award for chemistry, and Terry Sumner, club 
sucker-tary, was unanimously voted the Molson's Medal for creating a new 
angle for future Rooters to play. 

In our occasional meetings on mathematical puzzles Mr. Rourke, who founded 
the club in 1842, would make ti'iangles, circles, and sequences of numbers dance 
and gambol over the blackboard like gonifs to the complete bewilderment of 
everyone but himself and Archie. Archie understood fine. (The casual ob- 
server might think that there was a funny relation between brains and horn- 
rimmed glasses and waistlines, but of course, 'taint so.) 

We went to a movie called "Destination Moon" for one meeting. And 
there was an instructive and hilarious visit to Hamilton Westinghouse. 

Next year the club will be, by mathematical calculation, one year older 
and to returning Rooters we wish best of luck and sincere hopes for a year as 
good as this one. 

pal ikon club 

Back Row: Mr. Charles Beer, Moffat. Sutton, Widdrington, Mr. Charles Bryant, Kellock, 

Pfeiffer. Stewart, Grant, Mr. Harry Beer. 
Front Row: Baril, Skeith, Burton, Snider, Vassar, Lowry, Green, O'Brian. Hare, Phippen. 


The Polikon Club added strength to its foundation and lustre to its pur- 
pose this year, which we are sure has been its most successful yet. To 
supplement the sparkling debates and educational discussions the club entered 
into closer contacts with the world at large. This year, we became a member 
society of the United Nations Association from whom we receive publications 
and bulletins. We are establishing a programme of gift coupons, in which we 
help finance education in other countries through U.N.E.S.C.O. 

To make this community more conscious of the need for world unity the 
club erected a United Nations flag in the assembly hall. And at a time when 
the political stability of the United States was seriously threatened by the 
disputes arising from the dismissal of General McArthur, we gave President 
Truman confidence and encouragement by telegraphing our approval of his 

Inwardly the club was strengthened by a thorough revision of its constitu- 
tion. The debating field of the club was expanded from the discussion of 
politics and economics to include all social problems of general interest. The 
secondary purpose of developing the oratorical ability of the members was 
somewhat neglected this year. Of course the members get abundant practice in 
this art, but some specific instruction should, we feel, be introduced. 

On the assumption that every Polikon man will be a Member of Parliament 
some day, the procedure at the meetings was altered to resemble more closely 
that of the Canadian House of Commons. We now address, not the President, 
but Mr. Speaker, and our lucubrations are recorded, not by a Secretary, but by 
the Clerk of the House. 

The year ended on a lighter note when Max Ferguson, better known as 
"Rawhide", entertained the club at dinner with a fascinating discussion of 
his lively career in radio. The evening provided a brilliant close to a cos- 
mopolitan and cultured year. 

thirty ctub 

Tk the opinion of the level-headed students of the school the Thirty Club is 
-1 the only club. Of course the thing that really stands out in the memory 
is the magnificent repast which climaxed each meeting. But let not the reader 
condemn the "30" Club as a convention of gluttons. Rather say that we are 
members of the ageless fellowship of gourmets, having an eye and a taste for 
the better half of the culinary art. Even now you may say, "But do they 
only eat ? ' ' The answer is no ! Many problems which have confounded the 
modern world and indeed, still confound members of the Club, have been 
thrashed out in our meetings. Indeed, one member even brought all his learned 
brothers to our aid. Many were the nights when speakers would wax so grand- 
iloquent that riots almost ensued. Education proved to be the topic of our 
most heady debates and it was only the unruffled calm of the presidents (Messrs. 
Mencik, Storie and Bullock) which prevented the call for a riot squad. 


Front Row: Mr. Meikle, J. Luck, Maguire, Storie, McBain, Bullock, Mencik. 
Second Row: Barron, Dobson, Hamilton, Purges-Smith, Allen, R. Luck. 
Back Row: MacMillan, Morrison, Wigston. 

But wait! You must be fearfully bored, listening to me droning on. I 
know what you're waiting for — the final banquet. Such a banquet, conducted 
under the able leadership of Messrs. Storie, Maguire, McBain, and Hamilton 
\v;is never before equalled in the annals of Pickering. Mr. Fred Hagan of the 
Ontario School of Art was a most entertaining speaker. Thus we closed the 
minute book on the final chapter of the "30" Club, '50- '51. 

princeps club 

For the benefit of those people who have never taken Latin I would first 
like to explain the word "Princeps". To be brief, it means "leader". By 
no means do we profess to be leaders now, but our aim is to produce in some 
people the qualities which go to make up leadership. We try to accomplish this 
by giving responsibilities to individuals and by practice in debating and 

This year we had many good debates and inspiring talks. As usual the 
food was of excellent quality. There were two meetings in particular this 
year in which we accomplished a great deal. One complete meeting we spent 
discussing the constitution and our future plans; as a result we were at a com- 
plete and unclouded understanding as to our purpose at the end of the meeting. 
In the other meeting we discussed the school in every phase of its life and in 
the end we drew the only possible conclusion, that the school was a "good thing". 


Back Row: Small, Bennett, Richardson, Benness, Harvey, Dreiv. 

Front Row: Cameron, Crawford, Barkell. Helwig, Ames, Chisholm, Van Vliet. 

The Princeps club is proud to .say that they are not possessed by the curse 
of "Glorious Tradition". As a result we were able to revolutionize club final 
banquets. It was decided that we would abandon the usual stuffed-shirt ban- 
quet and become real down-to-earth nature men. As a result we had probably 
the best banquet in the annals of the club. We set our course for ninety miles 
north of Newmarket and took our food with us. The day was spent in eating, 
swimming, hiking and enjoying nature. We returned contented, feeling none 
the worse for having committed the unpardonable act of trying something new. 

Next year the club will be well represented by returning old boys and I 
hope that they will keep up the good work. Here's to good luck and an even 
better year coming up. "Bene provisa Principes ponantur". 

art exhibit 

During February an exhibition at the College of paintings by Fred Hagan, 
Eric Freifeld and Harley Parker aroused much interest among the boys and 
drew many visitors. 



foot hit It 


Back Row: Mr. Lanier. Mike Hare, Barter, Maguire, Skeith, Kellock, Vassar, Bennett, 

Benness, Baker, McBain, Bill Richardson and Mr. Rourke. 
Front Row: Snider, Ames, Colder, Hamilton, Bullock, Sumner (Capt. ) Mencik, 0' Brian, 

Storie, Helwig, Moffatt. 

The senior team certainly possessed a number of able players, however 
we lacked depth or reserves. We started the season with 21 and at times 
played with as few as 14. Nearly everyone had to learn to play two or more 
positions. This situation, while giving everyone a good opportunity to show 
his stuff in games, made it difficult to develop a smoothly functioning team. 

A team's success is usually judged on the basis of its wins and losses. On 
this basis we had a fair season, winning 4 and tieing 1 out of 9 games. The 
team could have had a better season had they played more as a compact unit, 
striving together, rather than as individuals. If we had achieved this, at least 
three more games might have been won. 

During the course of the season there were some highlights and some em- 
barrassing moments. There was the first win the team had had for some time 
that came in the second game of the season against Barrie; the five-hour bus 
trip, via the ditch, to Lakefield and then playing on an empty stomach with 
only four substitutes and finishing with two; the games with U.C.C. II 's when 
we were beaten before we started certainly provided us our moments of em- 
barrassment; the snowball fight at Barrie while the referee tried to find the 
touch lines; the games with U.T.S. when we watched a good passing attack work 
against a weak defense to pile up a big score. The highlight of the season in 
terms of thrills, spirit and drive came in the S.A.C. game. The team never 


looked better than in that final quarter when they took fire and played as an 
inspired team, just barely failing to overtake S.A.C.'s big lead. It was the 
only game when we showed that we could come from behind, with everyone 
doing his job to produce long gains, both on the ground and in the air, re- 
sulting in two (almost three) touchdowns in the last five minutes. 

Many thanks are due to Mike Hare who was always on the job as Man- 
ager, also to Bill Richardson, who lent a hand in taking on some of the coaching. 

To those who will wear the colours of a higher institution of learning, next 
year, we wish you success. To those coming back this Fall we count on you 
as the nucleus around which to form a successful team to carry the Blue and 
Silver colours onto the fields of 1951. 


Front Row: Dobson, Sutton, Steivart, Bates, Drew (Capt. ) King, Chisholm, Baril, 

Second Row: Armstrong, Brown, Van Vliet, Allen, Loivry, Morrison, Purves-Smith, 

Mr. Jackson. 
Back Row: MacMillan, Harvey, Van Royen, Smart, Johnston, Green, Cameron. 

Under the able coaching of Barney Jackson the Junior A squad was 
able to pull out of a slow start to turn in some very impressive wins. The Blue 
and Silver defeated Appleby, (irove, U.T.S. Thirds, and U.C.C., lost two close 
ones with S.A.C. and were decisively beaten by U.T.S. Seconds and Ridley. 
Considering the fact that the team was exceptionally green to start with, 
it can be said that "Barney" did wonders and led them through a good season. 

This year the Junior "B" team only won one game, but they benefitted 
greatly from the expert coaching of Mr. Blackstock and Big Bill Armstrong. 
Many of the boys had never played football before, but a happy, if statistically 
unsuccessful year was had by all. 


Back Row: Mr. C. Beer, Adler, Alger, Mickle, Chase, Gutierrez, Mr. Penner. 
Front Row: R. Luck, D. Thomson, Suarez, Vaucrosson, Pater son, Walters, J. Luck. 


This year's team witnessed what may prove to have been the first faint 
glimmerings on the horizon. A win was achieved, a solitary win, all 
the more splendid for its isolation, shining as it does like a beacon in the 
dark. For oh! how black was that darkness! For two seasons past had we 
hungered and were not fed, save by the managerial hand dispensing oranges 
at half-time. And defeat was bitter on many a day this season too. U.C.C. 
and T.C.S. made mock of us and dragged our sweaters in the mire. Bradford 
shook their fists at us, and went unscathed. And weary practice succeeded 
weary practice. The brow of our chief grew thunderous and we durst not 
look upon him. But then, one bright October afternoon, at home (how just 
are the gods) we rose up and smote St. Andrews. Nothing could we do 
wrong that day, and we knew the thrill that comes with the achievement of 
form. And knew that there would be other such days. 

There were some who stood out, in victory and in defeat. Memorable 
were the lofty, field-length hoists of Captain Charles Vaucrosson who was a 
pillar of strength in defence (and, alas, only a pillar up front), the superb 
artistry and grace of forward Suarez, the drive and strength of centre half 
Paterson, the flashes of brilliance we saw in winger John Luck, the coolness 
under fire of goalie Chase, the bull-terrier doggedness of Alex Hadaro. 

To their coach, John Penner, who works them, curses them, watches over 
them and sometimes (but rarely) smiles upon them; who is resolution itself: 
to him they owe everything. Without him they are nothing. With him, they 
or their successors, will some day, some year, come out of the wilderness. 


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Junior Prep 

Senior Prep 


St. Andrew's, U.T.S. and Pickering ran a close race in the Senior Prep. 
Basketball League this year. Each of these three teams split its two game 
series with each of the other two schools. However, U.T.S. also split its games 
with Upper Canada College to finish a close second, with St. Andrews and 
Pickering tied for first place. Upper Canada and T.C.S. with enthusiastic 
but inexperienced teams provided good opposition throughout the season. 

Pickering played off with St. Andrews for the league Championship at 
Hart House. Before a good crowd the tall lads from St. Andrews won a well- 
earned victory after trailing by nine points at half time. A last period rally 
by Pickering was not sufficient to overtake the lead which St. Andrews had 
established in a brilliant third quarter. It did, however, sweeten defeat a 
little for the Blue and Silver team. 

All in all, it was a good year in a good league. Exhibition games with 
Lawrence Park, Ridley, Danforth Tech and others helped to round out an 
enjoyable season. We look forward to welcoming the returning members of 
the senior squad, plus some promising juniors of this past season. We say 
good-bye with regret and best wishes to Capt. Dave Bullock and the other 
veterans who go to play on other floors. 

The Old Timers of basketball, otherwise known as the Senior North York 
Team, met with tough competition in the district high school league but 
the boys put on a good show every time out and came up with their share of 

Front line shotsmiths Hamilton, Storie, Barkell, Smart and 'Brian were 
always dangerous around the basket and worked well with rearguard master- 
minds Benness, McBain and Vassar. Manager, ballboy, and cheerleader Jorge 
Gutierrez, did a good job of keeping team spirit high throughout the season. 
And Charley Bryant was a devoted coach who nursed his charges with un- 
failing patience and understanding. 


Back Row: Mr. Jackson, Baiter, Skeith, Hare, Small, Mickle, Allen, Mr. Rourke. 

Front Row: Helwig (Mgr.), Snarez. Ames, Bullock (Capt.), Bennett, Van Royen, Stone. 


Back Row: Kellock, Mr. Lanier. Cameron. 

Front Row: Purves-Smith , Baker, Vaucrosson, Harvey, Lowry. 


Back Row: Gutierrez (Mgr.), Storie, Smart, O' Brian, Mr. Bryant. 

Front Row: McBain. Barkell, Benness. Hamilton, Grant. 


Our Senior Prep finalists in action (luring the play-off with 8.A.C. 
at Hart House and in the game with Ouelph at Pickering. 


npHE Jr. Prep, turned in a fair season, winning six out of twelve games. 
-*- A number of these were lost by only a small margin. Most of these close 
games could have been won if the team had played in closer harmony. 

The regular team was composed of only seven players. Three of the Jr. 
North York players helped out the team when we were short handed. 

We finished third in the league standing by defeating both T.C.S. and 
U.C.C. Everyone improved as the season progressed, especially in terms of 
their own skill and knowledge. The one major weakness was an occasional 
lack of team spirit and unselfish play. 

Once and for all let us clear up the question of the names of the Junior 
North York "B" and "H" teams. The "B" stands for Basketball, and the 
"H" for Hockey. The "B's" were primarily devoted to basketball while the 
"H's" were interested in hockey but wished to play basketball also. The 
members learned much of the fundamentals of the game and several showed 
real promise for the future. In one outstanding game against Aurora the 
"B" team came close to a win, displaying the fire and fight that denote true 
competitors. The teams were mothered by Bill Richardson who aged visibly 
through the season but never gave up. 


The memories of the oi>d timers report that there used to be winter in these 
parts six months of the year ; that ice covered the streams and lakes for 
many months. Under such conditions it was natural for everyone to learn to 
skate and for most boys to become fairly good hockey players. 

Nowadays winter doesn't invade these parts for so long. Natural ice is hard 
to keep even in rinks. One result of this is that there are fewer and fewer hotkey 
players turning up at the school. Having artificial ice in the town rink has been 
a great boon to us these last two seasons. We can get more students on ice 
regularly for skating and hockey and we can be sure that the games we arrange 
will be played. 

The First team showed the benefit of having regular practices and games. 
Now that we have organized teams at four levels we can have a crop of ex- 
perienced players coming up to the First team each season. First team players 
who came up from the Seconds of the previous season added strength to our 

The Firsts had one of the best seasons in a long while. They worked together 
as a team well and stood up under pressure on nearly all occasions. Old hands 
lent balance and strength ; the new hands added enthusiasm and drive. This 
combination makes hockey a good game and there is fun in the game for the 
players. We look forward to another season and more improvement in the calibre 
of hockey that will be played. With Keith MacLaren back on the coaching staff 
the three squads will be well coordinated. 


Second Team 

Senior Team 

Third Team 

The Second team did not meet with as much success as did the Firsts. Mr. 
Cornell was forced to build his team from the beginning because most of last 
year 's team moved up to Senior ranks, consequently the team lacked experienced 
players at the second team level. The season, although winless, was valuable. 
Skating and stick handling skills were much improved and the playing of Doug 
McAteer, Pete Green, Don Sears, Bob King and Jim Van Vliet indicate that 
hockey is once more on the upswing at Pickering and that it won't be long 
before the Blue and Silver win their share of games. 

The Third team and the Prep team experienced an enjoyable season. Games 
were played with S.A.C., T.C.S. and Bradford. The performances of Baxter, 
Defoe, Chase and Brownlee suggest future success. 


Back Row: Mr. Blackstock, Sumner, Alger, MacMillan, Phippen (Mgr.) Mr. Rourke. 

Front Row : Stewart, Mencik, Moffat, Maguire, Drew. 


Back Row: Mr. Cornell, Dobson, McAteer, Coburn, Dobson, Armstrong, Morrison, Sutton. 

Front Row: King, Burton, Van Vliet, Green, Sears. 


Back Row: La Palme, Defoe, Somerville, Paterson, Wilkinson, Kelso, McCusker, Hill, 

Widdrington, Mr. Armstrong. 
Front Row: Baxter, Buys, Hansen. 

spring term 

In the spring a young man's fancy turns to love,, but not at Pickering; we 
play lacrosse. For a few weeks smells of liniment and tired running shoes 
dominated the corridors while the infirmary lists mounted with increasing 
rapidity. Yes, lacrosse was once again upon us. But regardless of the bloody 
noses and bruised shins we had a very successful and enjoyable season. 

The softball season opened to the blare of trumpets, the rolls of drums and 
the plunking of ukuleles. The Headmaster, who was driven to the diamond by 
his own private chauffeur, appropriately opened the season by swinging at the 
first ball (which was a "ball" and he did swing) of the year. The participating 
clubs strolled around the infield and Bill (the blindman) Purves-Smith yelled 
"play ball!" 

Four softball teams, namely: — Maguire 's Sluggers, Hare's Rabbits, Mac- 
Millan 's Maulers, and Sumner's Crushers comprised the school league this 
year. After a closely fought battle Hare's Rabbits turned up victorious at the 
end of the season by defeating MacMillan 's Maulers in the final game. The 
winning team was sparked by the pitching of George Chase who was backed by 
such powerful hitters as Bill Armstrong and Al Snider. (Watch these boys, 
"Lippy"). The senior all star team coached by Mr. Cornell won two of its three 
games with Newmarket High School and also defeated Aurora High. 


Charlie Bryant spent a busy Spring Term transporting himself and other 
golf enthusiasts to and from the Aurora links. Much cussing and story- 
telling was heard but there were a few good rounds of the "old man's game" 
played. Pete Harvey took the cake with a two under par 34. Wally Meikle was 
his hottest competitor for low score. 

Sounds of zooming tennis balls and twanging gut (catgut that is) were 
heard frequently during the wee hours of the morning on several occasions. It is 
rumored that such aged gentlemen as Messieurs Meikle, Bryant, Jewell and 
Lanier formed this early morning tennis club. During the day-time the courts 
were always loaded with amateurs and the old pro showed his skill at times. 

As usual 98% of the students participated in the track and field programme. 
Lou, Blackie, and Keith were kept busy showing the athletes the correct methods 
of jumping, running and chucking. 

The senior track and field team easily beat Fxbridge in the first meet of 
the season, with firsts in every event. In a Senior and Intermediate meet 
S.A.C. trounced Pickering in the field events but we were successful in most 
of the track events. However S.A.C. won the meet by a fair margin. It was 
in this meet that Burt Kellock broke several track records. A Junior meet with 
S.A.C. also proved unsuccessful for Pickering. 

sports day 

Of course, the culmination of track and field is our annual sports day, 
. on which every fellow gets out and tries his hardest to win something. 
Old Man Weather proved entirely favourable, although towards the end of the 
afternoon he did spit a bit because the Blue Team didn't win Sports Day. 
All sorts of distinguished visitors turned up for this event.. All sorts of 
records fell and the competition was magnificent. We had one of the inter- 
collegiate football announcers come down to do the announcing and all in all, 
the day was a wonderful success. For the record, let it be said that the Red 
team put on a splendid drive to capture the Sports Day Championship, although 
the Silvers, by dint of an admirably sustained effort over the long haul, led 
in the final standings for the year. 


1. Silver Ivan Mencik 

2. Red Al Snider 

3. Blue John Bennett 


1. Red Ab Underhill 

2. Silver Charlie Vassar 

3. Blue Tom Storie 


departwnen t 

C. R. Blackstock {Director) 

W. H. Jackman {Housemaster) - A. H. Jewell 

Tutors: Bill Richardson - Alan Wylie 

Matron : Mrs. V. Henderson - Nurse : Mrs. R. Elleker 

Housemother : Mrs. A. Wright 

The small group of students who met together in the fall of 1940 pioneered 
modern Pickering's effort to run such a department. 

There was considerable doubt as to our ability to make the "Pickering 
system" work with younger boys. Many consultations were held during the 
first two or three years with experts in the field of elementary education. The 
plans and procedures were checked and tested. Everyone endeavoured to keep 
an open mind about the department and to learn from experience. 

The Prep soon became an accepted part of Pickering. This group of thirty 
to forty students has helped to round out our job of educating boys. Many 
of the students have stayed on to complete their high school education. 

The small group has been ideal with which to conduct studies in curriculum 
and procedures. One of these was the arts-crafts programme which the special- 
ist teacher set up as a graded programme of study. Another was the project 
in outdoor education conducted on the school farm during several spring terms. 

Most recently the Prep, has carried out "pilot" trials in school camping. 
We had the cooperation of the Departments of Education and Lands and Forests 
for both of these. We found that it was feasible to take boys in grades 7 and 
8 to the "bush" during two seasons of the year for a week's time to make a 
concentrated study of conservation. Trips away from the school for extended 
periods of time for grades below 7 proved to be less feasible and after the 
first trial were abandoned for school-based spring studies out-of-doors. 

We believe it is safe to say that the Pickering philosophy of education can 
be applied for boys of elementary school age. These first ten years have shown 
that. There needs to be some modification of the responsibilities and freedoms 
the boys have, to suit their ages and experience. For the most part the Prep, 
has been a happy second home for a goodly number of boys who have caught 
the Pickering spirit of friendliness. Many lasting friendships have started 
there; many have absorbed the idea of service to others. 

Pickering is indebted to many boys, now young men, who have taken part 
in the pioneer efforts of our Prep. There will be more experiments and ventures 
into untried areas during the next ten years. Future generations of the Prep, 
will have their chance to have a part in "exploration, discovery and adventure" 
along the frontiers of elementary school education. 


this year in review 

At the end of the Spring term one always wonders just where in the world 
the year has gone and just what we have done with it. On sitting down 
to think about it we find that we have done a great deal. In the Fall, we 
welcomed back many of the boys from the previous year. We found that the 
same masters, Mr. Blaekstock, Mr. Jaekman and Mr. Jewell were with us again. 
We also had quite a number of new boys to introduce to our school. Mr. 
Houston was back to teach music, Mrs. Hathaway, a charming addition to our 
staff, taught crafts to Grade 5 and 6, Mr. Renzius to Grade 7 and 8. Bill 
Richardson and Alan Wylie, both Old Boys of the Senior School, were this 
year's tutors. Mrs. Wright succeeded Mrs. Zimmerman as housemother. 

The highlights of the Fall term were : the soccer team, which broke even 
on the season; the excursion to the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto to inquire 
into Indian lore ; the renewal of the Model Railway Club, which had a large 
membership and which was bolstered considerably by a generous gift from an 
Old Boy, namely a beautiful cabinet in which to build a "layout" — the Old 
Boy? oh yes, Jim Eakins, now superintendent of an institution of learning in 
the West; the Hallowe'en party; Parent's Day, when we put on our usual ex- 
hibition of scrubbed faces and polished floors and sold Cokes to raise funds for 
the Model Railway Club ; and finally, the big night when Santa Claus visited us 
at our Christmas banquet. 

During the Winter term (Jrades 4, 5 and 6 exhibited a great interest in 
fish, setting up an aquarium containing a variety of finny and plant life. We 
had a sleighing party which, amazingly enough, everyone survived to enjoy a 
scrumptious feed provided by some of the ladies of the community. We visited 
the cinema now and then, (who will forget "Destination Moon"?). The out- 
standing feature of the winter term was the success of the Prep hockey team 
which won 7 out of 8 games, the best record of any Prep hockey team to date. 
Before we knew it, Easter was upon us and another term was over. 

The Spring term was a busy one. The first important item was Grade 7 & 8 's 
second school camping trip to Limberlost, which is described elsewhere. The jun- 
ior class, as their Spring project, spent a great deal of time around the school 
grounds repairing lawns, planting grass and flowers, renovating the out-door 
fish pond, etc. Baseball, both hard and soft, was very popular. Some of the 
boys, on an unofficial Spring project, built a drain to provide a swimming pool 
which they used "unofficially" and thereby hangs a tale . . . 

Track and field was the chief activity of the season. Besides taking a 
large share in the events of Sports Day, the Prep also had a Games Day — a 
successful and very enjoyable one — at U.C.C. And then without warning — 
examinations, the Firth House dinner (at which our guest speaker was Old 
Boy Jake Struthers, of the Newmarket Era & Express), and the Athletic ban- 
quet were upon us in rapid succession. 

So after all, our year was put to many uses. Of course, throughout all 
this enjoyable activity we had to devote a little time and thought to things 
academic and we did have a graduating class. Good luck to them. 


Our young woodsmen at Limberlost 

school cawnping 

experiment in school camping'. The experiment proved so successful that 
we decided it would be worthwhile experimenting further this year. 

Along with twenty-two boys from Forest Hill Junior High School in 
Toronto, our (Trades 7 and 8 went to Limberlost Lodge near Huntsville for a 
week in April. We chose Limberlost Lodge because the natural surroundings 
were suitable for the studies we wished to make; the forests, the saw mills, the 
wild life, the trappers, the lumbermen and the Forestry School were all con- 
veniently located with respect to the Lodge; excellent accommodation, inter- 
ested co-operation and good recreational facilities — fishing and horseback-riding 
— were available here too. 

We made a number of expeditions and learned a lot about fish and wild 
life, weather and trees and local history. Officials from the Dept. of Lands and 
Forests were among our instructors. 

We feel that this year's trip was highly successful. We learned how 
such trips could be improved and we showed to such visitors as officials from 
the Dept. of Education that this type of project had value. It already is 
apparent that our lead in school camping will be followed. It is very likely 
that this kind of expedition will be a permanent feature of co-curricular 
activities at Pickering College. — W. H. Jackman 


aid bays 9 assaeiatiam 

Ronald H. Perry 

(Honorary President) 

Harry M. Beer 

(Honorary Vice-President) 

Harry Peace 


Secretary - Allan Rodgers Treasurer - Stuart R. Henry 

Committee Members 

Frank Peace - Victor Wood - Murray Gill 

The presentation to Mr. Maitland at the Old Boys' banquet 

The above executive was elected at the annual meeting of the Association 
in Toronto in January of this year when a pleasant social evening was 
enjoyed by the Old Boys of Toronto and district. This executive has been 
most active. There were two dances held at the Old Mill ; two or three basket- 
ball games played at the College ; and the members were kept well-informed 
bv a lively bulletin service which was mainly the work of Al Rogers and Vic 

The executive travelled to Pickering in March for a joint meeting with 
the staff. It was there decided that the Old Boys would be more interested in 
activities centred at the College rather than social events in Toronto. Tentative 


plans were made for a reunion weekend at the school during the Easter holidays 
of 1952, which will be the 25th anniversary of the re-opening of the school 
under Joseph McCulley. It was decided that this event should be planned well 
in advance in the hope that many old staff and Old Boys from distant points 
would attend. A bulletin concerning the details of this event will be issued in 
the Fall. 

As a tribute to the long and faithful service of Mr. Maitland, it was agreed 
that an Old Boys' Banquet should be held in his honour on Saturday May the 
fifth, at the College. The guest speaker was Joe McCulley whose address is 
printed elsewhere in this issue. On behalf of the Old Boys, President Harry 
Peace presented Mr. Maitland with a silver tray inscribed with the words 
"Twenty-five years of friendship". Nearly a hundred Old Boys and friends 
were present, proving that the new policy of the executive in focussing activities 
at the College was a sound one. 

The outstanding contribution of the Old Boys to the school (Memorial 
Field) has already proved to be an invaluable asset. Those of you who were 
present on Sports Day will vouch for the beauty and grandeur of its setting. 
The Memorial Fund Committee would like to remind solvent Old Boys that 
the Association still has commitments to meet before the field is entirely paid for. 

As Old Boys we all feel that the first responsibility of our Association is 
to help the school in whatever way possible, as evidence of our abiding faith in 
the Pickering way of education. It was therefore most heartening to learn that 
the Old Boys of Lethbridge, Alberta had established an annual scholarship at 
Pickering for a deserving student of their choice. This scholarship was held 
during the past year by Dennis Burton of Lethbridge. We feel that no finer 
contribution than this can be made to the life of the school, and hope Old Boys 
in other centres may find a similar project worthy of support. 

staff nates 

The Voyageur takes great PLEASURE in welcoming three brides to the school 
community this year. Mrs. Lanier (the former Betty Nicholson) joined 
us in December .... Mr. and Mrs. Lanier will occupy the Firth House apart- 
ment next year .... Miss Doris Proctor and Keith McLaren were married in 
Newmarket on June 16th and are spending the summer at Camp Mazinaw .... 
Miss Stina Moller and John Penner were married at the home of Mr. and Mrs. 
Renzius on June 23rd and spent their honeymoon in Western Canada .... 
We extend a warm welcome to these charming newcomers and hope to see them 
amongst us often. 

Mrs. Rosamund Elleker arrived from Winnipeg in September to be the 
school nurse and has won many friends by her kindliness and good humour. 

There are several departures to be noted this year .... Pete Bastedo is 
Leaving us to return to business .... Sydney Webster has taken a position 


with the Prudential Life Insurance Company of America in Toronto .... 
Bill Armstrong is, in his words, ' ' heading West ! " To these three good friends 
of Pickering we wish the best of fortune in their future careers and hope they 
will keep in touch with the school. They won't be forgotten on the hilltop .... 
Mr. and Mrs. Bryant are returning to Alberta with Stephen. Charlie says 
they are, figuratively speaking, going "back to the land." Bon voyage and 
good luck! 

Our tutors are proceeding to the University of Toronto .... Bill Richard- 
son is entering the Physics and Chemistry Course (we shall miss those moc- 
casins) and Al Wylie is going to be a doctor. 

Summer holidays will be busy for most of the staff who will be scattered far 
and wide as usual. The Headmaster is visiting Edmonton on matters mathema- 
tical. We note that Harry Beer will be attending McGill University's Summer 
School in French .... Barney Jackson will again be program director at 
Geneva Park, Lake Couchiching .... Blackie will again be on the job at 
Camp Mazinaw and Henry Jackman is returning to summer school at the 
University of Western Ontario .... Wally Meikle and Prank Houston 
have sailed away for a summer in England, lucky dogs ! . . . . Charles Beer 
hopes to get as far as New England. 

Aside from the departures noted above, it is expected that the rest of the 
staff will be with us in September. Don Stewart is returning to take charge 
of the Classics department. Welcome back, Don ! 

The Voyageur wishes to congratulate our headmaster on his election to 
the presidency of the Canadian Headmasters' Association of Independent 
Schools for Boys. 

Mrs. Rourke and Mrs. Jackson again took leading roles in Frank Houston's 
operettas at Simpson Avenue United Church and, to the school contingent in 
the audience, were undoubtedly the stars of the performance. 

Henry Jackman 's Badminton Club was very active and flourishing this 
year and is now five years old. 

The most exclusive society in the school this year was probably the Firth 
House Supper Club which met at irregular intervals and places and is now 

Two notable stag parties were given this year, for Lou Lanier on the eve 
of his marriage, and for John Penner and Keith McLaren on a similar occasion. 
At the latter affair was composed the immortal "Matrimonial Blues" of pianist 
Jake Struthers. 

Miss Gwen Wilmot has left our secretarial staff and has been replaced 
by Mrs. Jeannette Olson. 

To our domestic staff, we welcome Mrs. Wright as House-mother of Firth 
House, and bid farewell to the veteran Ernie Brown and Mrs. Zimmerman, 
both of whom will be remembered by many generations of Pickering students. 


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