Page 20 - 1947

18 C. C. I. GLEANER
made such fascinating toys for a child my age. While other persons shook their heads over my lusty lung powe1·, my partner cheerfully went his way ; fot·, you see, he was quite deaf.
ln summer, of course, the1·e was his garden. He1·e in ihe glory of the sunset, after supper, 1 learned t ·.> identify weeus from ftowe1·s. Although l did Hot tax my brain, and pulled many oJ the wrong variety, bis garden flourished: spikes of gladiolis, like soldiers in brilliant colour parade, saluted your eye as you entered. Roses, dahlias, peonies and others, shone equally in their splendor.
In winter months, the house was our play ground. In the kitchen he ruled supreme. Sunday mornings, while others of the family were at church, we, together, would brew our taffy. Then at this time, and this time only, we enjoyed music of our own creation.
"Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief;
Taffy came to my house And stole a leg of beef."
This was our favourite; and as the church folk came home, the strains of the fine old melody re-echoed throughout the house. A gain heads were shaken sorrowfully in my direc- tion: I was such a tomboy!
His interests were simple, the
HUMOR
Frances Hill 9B
Our Mr. Gooday made a questionable remark that young boys of high school will soon be thinking of marriage and begin chasing girls, or perhaps it is the other way around, the girl gets the boy in a corner and says, "this is it bub, come along peacefully."
MacBeth: "Make haste, old woman, make haste!"
Three Witches: "Alright Mac, we'll be witch ya in a minute."
(Apologies to W.S.)
Sheldon Redpath (to Mr. MacRae): "What did they give the soldiers in Africa to prevent sunstroke?"
Bob Fryer (gazing nonchalantly while paring his fingernails): "Sun helmets."
Have you hear:.d of the little moron who went around with a flower pot on his head saying he was a 1bloomin'
idiot? Laugh fool! Or we will boil you in a suspension of red lead and Pathag- vxus theorem, cut your throat with a decleHsion of conjugation of the incom- plete me,amol·phosis of the butterfly, through distructive dtstillation. Okay you don't like the joke, go get Fred Hentner to tell you the joke of the dog on the raih·oad tracks. See if I care.
+- !'-' Kind Lady (about to give back door caller a dime): "Poor man! Are you
married?"
Tramp: "Pardon me Madam! D'ye
think I'd be relyin' on total strangers for support if 1 had a wife?"
"What will it cost me to have my car fixed?"
"What's the matter with it?"
"I don't know."
"Fifty-two dollars and fifty cents."
garden took much of his leisure time. His trade was that of a harness maker, his shop an interesting place, to be sure: in summer it was cool, quiet and spicy smelling hide-a-day; in winter it changed its personality completely and became the gathering place for his numerous f1·iends. He1·e they col- lected around the pot-bellied stove and discussed the hockey games and other mutual interests.
Another pastime we had, tha!; ranks foremost in my mind and which we shared was fishing. Our annual trip, on the twenty-fourth of May, min or shine, was spent tromping down shallow trout streams in old clothes and r ubber boots, sizes too large. For lunch on this occasion, one feature stands out: eating mincemeat pie with my hands. It seemed so finished, and such a grown-up action. It was my disappointment that this event took pbce hut once a year.
Now, I am fifteen years of age. Not truly ancient, but at tbis poirtt, if ever, my character will be formed. His compa11ionship, young as I was then, will have a lasting influence over my actions; as much as his memories are a pleasure to remember-my finest playmate: my Grandfather.