College Courier, 1947 Vol. 4, no. 1, December

              THE VOICE OF
THE STODENTS
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Vol. 4, No. 1
PRINCE OF WALES   COLLEGE
DECEMBER,   1947
THE PUPIL'S PAPER
STAFF:
Editor-in-Chief,
J. C. Puddester,
Associate Editors,
Margaret Pottle        Ralph Green
Ruth Simmons David Tizzard
Sports Editor,
Edgar Bemister.
Business Manager,
Bob Gulliford.
EDITORIAL
"If I say," said the teacher,
" 'The pupil loves his teacher.'
What sort of a sentence is that?"
"Sarcastic," replied the bright
student.
This is the sort of a thing that
goes on within the cloistered walls
of good old P.W.C. as the jolly
Yuletide rolls around.
Evenin', friends. How y' all?
Hope that little opener didn't
put you in too bad a frame of mind
to read what is yet to come. It's
worse—I think it only fair to warn
you!
The Friday morning musicals,
still a standard feature of the Old
School—thanks to the diligent
work of Mr. Osmond, are much
appreciated by all. We have a
splendid opportunity to hear the
best of local talent at these gatherings and we fully appreciate it.
Let's hope they continue to play a
part in the struggling efforts of
the staff to make ladies and
gentlemen of us. Music is a great,
thing. It should be in every home.
What I object to is the music next
door.
The students are looking forward to a visit to the Convention
again this year. I hope it can
come about. All of which reminds
me— Last year an impassioned
orator was wailing: "This age de-'
mands men who have convictions.
Where shall we find them?" I still
do not know how I refrained
from shouting: "In prison!"
Speech Night was very enjoyable this year. Our congratulations to the prize winners and to
the Girls' Choir. The Governor's
address was inspiring and I received a jolt on hearing Mr. Partner's detailed report. I had no idea
we had ploughed through such a
tumultuuous year. I had hardly
noticed it. But it just goes to show
how demanding the duties of the
Principal must be.  Compared  to
the staff, I think the students had
it easy. (I wonder how many of us
will end up as school-teachers?)
Congratulations to the girls' field
hockey team on winning another
championship. Our sympathy to
the boys on losing their football
chances, especially to the seniors
who really came alive in the latter
part of the series; just a little too
late. I am referring, of course, to
the fact that they scored ten goals
m the last two games. Hard luck,
fellas, but there's another season
coming.
Well, I guess that's all for now.
[ shall leave you go your respective ways, as Archie would say.
Ah! My favourite radio programme: "Who buried the electric
light bulb" or "Mazda's in de cole,
cole ground" has just come on; so,
wishing you all a merry Christmas
and a swell time during the holidays, it's good-bye for the present.
See you next issue.
-:0:-
10 Garbage Row,
St. John's East,
3rd December 1947.
The Editor,
The Courier,
Sir,—I am writing on behalf of
my fellow-members of the St.
John's branch of the Cat's Mutual
Protection Society. We cats are
very annoyed about the amount of
•free publicity which has been obtained for our rival society, the
Independent Dogs' Trust, by its
ingenious Secretary, Mr. H. tjsky-
fietter. We feel that it is time a
Little more attention was paid to
ourselves, for, although usually
less noisy, we pride ourselves on
being just as much a nuisance to
the community as is the average
dog. I ask you, Sir, what particularly detestable accomplishment
does the dog possess that is not
matched by ourselves? Think of
what they have claimed in the
Press recently. They boast of their
ability to extract dirt and disease
from refuse tins, and to carry
these desirable social luxuries
into the life of the community. We
cats do the same, and we do it
more successfully, for we are more
unobtrusive in our foraging, and
we are more skilful in effecting
. our entrance into the larders of the
humans afterwards. We claim a
higher standard here.
. Then they have bragged about
their ability to frighten, and in-
•jure, humans. Again I ask you,
t'ir, as a reasonable being, do you
know of anything more frightening than the special howl which I
and\my fellow-cats can produce
any night when the whim possesses us, to keep you awake? And
for the injury, let statistics speak
for us. How many cases of dog-
bite have there been in St. John's
in your memory? Practically none.
But not even the mathematical
geniuses of your Commercial class
could compute the number of
scratches deftly inflicted by my
persevering colleagues in one brief
year.
They also claim that they can
upset the refuse-tins. What of it?
It is a singularly useless pursuit,
since these tins would in any case
be upset by the young male
humans as they go to school, and
the contents are so much junk
anyway. But we excel in the overturning of jars and bottles of the
food which the humans keep in
high shelves in their larders, inaccessible to the lumbering, awkward dog. That is high achievement in every sense.
They give themselves airs because they share with humans the
dignity of having a tax imposed
upon them. But even if this tax
were paid—which it is not—is that
a dignity? Is there not more dignity in the aloof withdrawal of
us cats from anything so sordid
as such a meek acceptance of the
Dollar Domination?
I trust that you will pardon so
lengthy an intrusion on your valuable space, Sir, but it is time that
justice should triumph in this
case, and that public recognition
should be given to our claims to be
greater pests even than the dog.
Remember, the dog may glory
in this new acclamation as a social
outcast, but we have always been
real stinkers—think of the polecat or skunk! We cats can always
be relied upon to make our presence smelt.
Yours effluviently,
TABBY T. CAT,
Secretary,
Cats' Mutual
Protection Society.
Ed. Note: I am sure that a completely mollified public will
henceforth realize fully, and duly
appreciate, the fine work being
done by the cats of our town; as
sxpressed by Mr. Tabby T. Cat in
his effluvient letter.
 :0:	
THESE MODERN TIMES
The latest fashions seem to be a
topic of much discussion these
days. The newest and most publicised is the new length of women's
skirts. This seems to be no subject
for classroom debating but because
of the many arguments put up in
favour of them I should like to
state a few, plus my own opinion.
Number one: They are warmer.
This may be, but the heat gained
by two or three inches of dress
material below the knees will certainly be counter-acted by the
cold absorbed by the bare shoulders. The idea of the dress designers this year seems to be: "Cut it
off the top—put it on the bottom!"
Personally, I think the length of
the dress is the same but it is
worn a little lower on the body.
Number two: They put 'new
man appeal into your clothes. I
have yet to hear of a man in favour of the new style. Quite recently there appeared in a popular
American magazine an article inserted by the "fashion experts":
"The wise woman will wear the
long skirt to cover her figure. It
makes her more desirable to men
by giving an impression of
virtue." I wonder how much they
got from the clothes manufacturers?
Number three: They look better!
The only people I think they look
better on is someone who lacks
vitamin D.
There is only one real reason
why these, or any other new styles,
are created, and that is to enable
the present day clothes manufacturers and their descendants, yet
unborn, to live in luxury all their
lives. Each and every new style is
created with this ulterior motive
in mind.
Thus, woman is merely a puppet for the amusement of the
clothes manufacturer. Subject to
his slightest whim, shown by how
she dances with the ever-changing
styles.
L. MOORES.
 :0:	
If all the grit and determination
in the world were put in a pile.
What a big pile that would be.
If  all  the  love  and  kindness  in
the world were put in a pile,
What a  big pile that would be.
If   all  the  joy   and   contentment
were put in a pile,
What a big pile that would be.
If ail the men in the world were
put in a pile,
What a big pile that would be.
And   if   these   piles     were     put
together,
What a great world this would be.
LATIN
Latin is a language
As dead as dead can be,
It killed the ancient Romans
And now it's killing me.
All are dead who wrote it—
All are dead who spoke it—
All are dead who learned it—
Lucky dead! They earned it!
DAVID WOODS,
(Boys' Own Annual).