Village Squire, 1973-06, Page 18around town as a tomboy and in truth she was playing with
two boys at the time - Brian McGintee, Kelly McGintee's
nine-year old boy and Michael Townshend, the local bank
manager's son.
Although she played with the boys, Peggy could not be said
to be a bosom pal of either. They never forgot that she was
"a girl" and the way they said those two words seemed to
inferr that she was the carrier of some dreaded plague.
So when she called the boys they didn't seem at all interes-
ted in her find and kept on throwing stones at the bullfrogs
that habituated the creek. So, Peggy slipped the package into
her jacket pocket for further reference and picked up a handful
of stones to join the game.
It wasn't until after the boys had tricked her into playing
hide and go seek and then disappeared that Peggy thought of
the package again. She was walking home and she took it
out of her pocket to look it over. She broke the string that
held the brown paper on and unwrapped it. Uner the paper
she found it was wrapped again in plastic, then covered by a
cloth bag. After she opened the bag she found two blocks of
wood with a heavy metal plate on one side. They were
wrapped in tissue papers.
To the ordinary child, indeed the ordinary adult, these block
might have been a mystery, but not to Peggy. She was the
daughter of Mac MacKenzie who ran the only printing shop
in town. It wasn't because she had been hanging around her
father's shop that she knew that these were printing plates
though. Mac MacKenzie had inherited his shop from his
father and intended the business should stay in the family when
he passed on. To this end he had given his son Peter, an old,
hand -operated printing press which had been hanging around
the shop, getting in the way. This he had installed in the
basement of the MacKenzie home.
Mac was happy with the results. Even at 10 Peter was fas-
cinated with the machine. Not only that, but Peggy was his
habitual companion in the little basement print shop. Peter
was forever printing something. He even showed good bus-
iness sense by printing business cards fa some of the area bus-
inessmen.
However Mac MacKenzie was also a Scotsman and a good
businessman so Peter's printing scope was limited to a few old
plates and some ancient hand -set type, whatever he could
scrounge from his father's shop. Printing plates were to exp-
ensive to be thrown around.
So when Peggy came running home to the little basement
shop with her treasure, she found a ready listener. When she
proudly showed Peter the plates he trouched them with the
excited hands of a 10 year old. He didn't know what was on
the plates but it didn't really matter. Here was an opportunity
to print something other than the rejects from his father's
shop.
He spread ink on the plate, spread paper over the top,
pressed the two together with a roller and pulled the paper
away. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the paper. He
handed it to Peggy without a word. She stared at it. She had
hardly ever seen a 20 dollar bill before in her short life but
there was one, perfectly on the paper. I wasn't the right
colour and she know it wasn't real money but it DID look like
it. "Play money?" she asked. "Sure," Peter said, He didn't
really know if it was or not. It didn't look like any play
money he had ever seen. Then he remembered the talk of
funny money when the counterfeiters had been around. He
became even quieter.
The next few days Peter was tan between his young honesty
and his love of printing. On the one hand he felt that he
should show the plates to his father cr the police. On the
other he thought how challenging it would be to try to turn
out as near perfect as passible copies of real money.
The week that followed made Mac glow with pride. His
son spent hours at a time buried in his little print shop. Mac
never went down, he didn't want to push the boy. He was
delighted when Peter even began to turn up around the
printing plant after school.
The problem as far as Peter was concerned was paper. Mac,
the Scot that he was, didn't provide the best of paper for
his son's hobby, mostly old, yellowed newsprint. This, Peter
18
When all you to sell are
fads, you've
got to be
pushy.
At
Rawson
we don't
have to
push.
Rawson and Swartman specializes in
contemporary men's clothing and ac-
cessories. But instead of getting carried
away with every fly-by-night fad, we con-
centrate on good taste. Something our
helpful but unintimidating clothiers and
skillful tailors don't have to push.
You won't see any costumes or
outrageous looks. We'd never sacrifice
good styling for unusualness' sake.
However, you will see a terrific collection
of very contemporary suits, shirts, ties,
coats, jackets and sportswear for the
fashion -aware gentleman.
Like the smartly styled clothing shown
here.
Visit Rawson and Swartman soon and
see why we say, the more you have to of-
fer, the less you have to push.
Rawson & Swartman
Only our service is old-foshioeed
ON THE SQUARE. OODERICH
LTD.