HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Centennial, 1956-06-28, Page 6ANLN4: 14 iirsT
Art Commoveo,
"Dear Anne Hirst; What goes
►n with parents, anyhow? I
love mine dearly, they've al -
Ways given me everything 1
want, until now. I'm 17, and
they have tossed out the only
boy 1 love because of the hours
we've been keeping, and lots of
Other complaints they've thought
up. They have decided another
:man' will make me a better hus-
band, and they told my sweet-
heart I'm going to marry him,
(I didn't have a chance to ex-
plain). That was tour weeks
sago, and now when my beau
passes me on the street he
doesn't even stop. I am disgust-
ed!
"The man they've chosen is
a friend of my brother's, but
older; I've always liked him,
but not as a prospective hus-
band . . . I am afraid to dis-
obey my parents for fear they
will hate me and disown me if
I refuse. Can you rescue me
from this future they have set
their hearts on?
JENNIFER."
* Most of us are romantic
* when we are 17, in love with
" one boy or another and plan-
• ning a thrilling future when
' we marry. You are seeing
* yourself, I expect, as a love-
* ly young heroine imprisoned
* by cruel parents, only to be
* freed if you will marry a
Easy to P &fe l
if/ fame, Meg%
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Our gift to you -- two won-
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* man you do not love. I am
* not unsympathetic, but I urge
* you to calm down. Parents
* aren't like that today. Yours
* aren't jailers who insist you
* marry someone you do not
* love, Or else. They love you
*° dearly, and only want to in-
k sure your married happiness.
* Your father and mother will
* not hate you when you re-
* fuse.
• Why didn't you say "no"
* when the man proposed, and
* write your boy friend the
* truth? They had their reasons
* to 'forbid you to date him;
* for one thing, they could not
* rely on him to bring you
* home at a proper hour
* (which was partly your fault),
* and I am sure they complain-
* ed more than once about this
* and other objections they had.
* If your beau had taken them
* seriously and mended his
* ways, this need never have
* happened. They were within
* their rights; any sensible par-
* ents would have done the
* same.
* You have built this situa-
* tion into a dramatic crisis.
* How many romantic novels
* have you • been reading Late-
* ly? How many silly movies
* based on forgotten Victorian
* discipline?
* A11 you have to do is to
• say you don't want to marry
* your brother's friend. It is
* as simple as that.
LOVE I5 LATE
"Dear Anne Hirst: Just be-
fore Christmas, a man I'd known
nearly a year asked me to mar-
ry him. I had several qualms,
however, and asked him to
wait. He grew tired of that,
and left town ... Then I knew
I Ioved him .
"I have tried vainly to be
friendly since, and let him see
that I feel differently now; but
he is bitter, and besides, he's
going with another girl. I'm
sure she is not right for him,
and I'm afraid he will marry
her.
"Must I lose him again? Or
is there anything I can do? I
am 25 and I take marriage
seriously, and now I know
where I want it.
WISHING."
*° I am afraid this man does
'r' not love you as he once de-
* Glared, or he would jump at
;, the chance you offer. If I am
* mistaken in this, then he is
* being spiteful -- and who
* would marry 'a man that
* could hurt you so? To my
* mind, what has happened is
"•' for the best.
* You cannot do more than
* you have done, so face the
*° truth and, plan your future
differently: I am sorry,
Our girls have greater social
freedoms than any others in
the world. If you do not abuse
yours, your parents will trust
your judgment. If you are at
odds with them, tell Anne Hirst
about it; she understands you,
and them, and has helped thou-
sands of youngsters toward a
harmonious family life. Ads
dress her at Box 1, 123 Eight-
eenth St., New Toronto, Ont.
QUEER EYES
The eyes of a whale are set
far back and look in opposite
directions. They cannot be
moved to look straight ahead
or behind. If Mr. Heepbigfish
wants to see what's on the hori-
zon, he must stand up in the
water and slowly turn around,
DO- T"YQURSELF NUN -•- Sister Aloysius of Edinburgh, Scotland,
skillfully wields a plane as she experiments on a piece of wood
a woodworking class to London, and England, She -:
England, other Sisters
) 1eifl to do their Lawn work in furnishing their convent.
CHOLLY CHARLENE AND HER CHIMP — Opera and concert
soprano Charlene Chapman finds it a ticklish situation as her
pet monkey, Porfirio, clambers about her neck. The singer's
small zoo of pets at her home includes a kinkajou, macaw,
cheetah, boxer dog and an ocelot.
We Mich-iliked
To f;e a isle
On a golden day in August, we
dug our toes despondently into the
land bench at Seven Islands, Que-
bec, and contemplated the harbour -
the long, rakish ore boats waiting
their turn at the already -occupied
ore docks...a few small fishing
boats riding at anchor... the little
pleasure cruisers of the ceme-lately
townspeople in this boom town. We
were completely depressed.
Our ear we had left in Bale Com-
eau, the end of the highway along
the north shore of thte St. Lawrence
River, some 110 miles west. We bad
taken the regular ferry to 'Seven
Islands and were now starting wist-
fully toward the Straits of Belle
Isle -- wondering how iu the blue-
eyed world we could possibly get
there:
We felt a little like the famous
mountaineer who, when asked why
he wanted to climb a certain mount-
ain, replied in utter surprise, "Well,
it's there, isn't it?"
We felt the same war. We want-
ecl to travel the Cote Nord, that
530 -mile fringe of Quebec's Labra-
dor that borders the Gulf' of St.
Lawrence. It was there, wasn't it?
True, 0 lone freighter from Quebec
made the trip at irregular intervals,
anchoring for out in rocky harbours
and cutting calls as short as pos-
sible. That, definitely, was not for
us!
`'Try the goelettes, if you want' to
see the coast," they had suggested
in Quebec City. But, alas, tate goel-
ettes were under strict regulatious
that said "no passengers on small
coastal freighters." Besides that,
Seven Islands was the turn -about
place for most of them. We still
yearucd — hopelessly — for the
Straits of Belle Isle.
So we Wiggled our toes and stared
wistfully out past Big Boule, the
biggest of the seven islands and a
one-time Indian look -out. We sigh-
ed, deeply. 1'1'e'dd never, never make
it unless we -hitch- hiked —
"II itch-hiked !„ said John
111ouglifnliy.
"Hitch -hiked!" said I enthusias-
tically.
And so the did.
We dict — thanks to the hospit-
able people of the coast who let us
ride with them, stay with theta —
and were delighted that a couple
of countrymen thought it worth
while actually to came down this
remote coast because they really, •
trnly, wanted to see it.
Our first boat was the Maris-
Stella, our first benefactor the bine-
eyed, cnthusiastie doctor who was
taking a T. B. clinic down the Cote
Nord.
"Certainly — ,conte along I" lir.
Binet: generously told us. "We're
going as far as blingan and Havre
St. Pierre this time ---and from there
you can probably make arrange-
ments better than in Seven is-
lands.
lVe steamed out Of Seven Is-
lands as sunset stained the sky.
A long ore boat was just coming in-
to the harbour to collect its cargo.
and our last glimpse of the etre
• port was of the little pilot boat,
lit up like a Christmas tree, dm"-
ging aeross that perfect harbour t.o
escort it in.
We slept to a gentle rocking, anti
the murmur of water along a ship's
side. We woke next morning to an
ominously familiar sound.
.Beeeeeee -- ohhhhhithhllhhhhh 1"
muttered a fog horn outside the
porthole.
"Oh it's always foggy oft Mine,
gan," the captain assured us cheer-
ily as we climbed on deck into a.
white cotton fog, but it will clear."
He went off whistling,
"Lovely day, isn't it?" inquired
the X - ray teciinican, and be too
was wreathed in smiles -- and was
Woefully fishing over the side of
the becalmed Maris Stella!
But the captain was tight, and tlitt
tog cleared after breakfast. We
steamed out of a mist-tinct-stttmhltte,
MERRY MENAGERIE
^
"I feel ti e Christmas spirit all
year 'round:"
mixture and up to the big dock of
Mingan — an incongrously big dock
to front an Indian village!
Here had been a wartime base,
and the dock, as well as an excell-
ent air strip back in the bush, were
the useful peacetime left- overs.
It wasn't the dock, however, but the
village rest interested us — and a
glimpse of the Montagnais Indians
who had been living along this
coast since the time of Cartier.
As we strolled along the tents and
grey homes, the little church, the
tethered dogs and the half -finished
canoes, we didn't go unobserved.
Montagnais ladies, in ankle -length
plaid skirts and traditional top-
heavy Montagnais hats, eyed us —
from a distance. When we eauti-
onsly moved around to take a
picture, they just as cautiously
moved too, so that a tent, a box or
a canoe completely foiled us.
Whenever we approached an In-
dian canoe maker, he either stopped
work, assumed a Buddha -like at-
titude of contemplation, or fled al-
together. Only one small pup
. seemed unconcerned.
"It's you," John finally decided.
"They don't know }what you are --
man, woman or what in those
slacks!" He chuckled, and another
Montagnais took flight into a tent.
"They've probably never seen any-
one in slacks before."
' "Ilusnph !" I retorted. But, silent-
ly, I wished at least I hadn't
chosen to wear plaid slacks that
day!
The ship's crew were more help-
ful. "Keep wandering around," they
advised as. "They'll get used to
you."
We wandered around. Up and
down, back and forth, with com-
plete -aimlessness, as if we saw a
Montagnais village every day of our
lives and were bored by such mon-
otony, By the time we returned to
the Maris Stella, we reported con-
siderable success.
, "How'd you make out?"
"Just fine," we said pridefully.
"They ignore us!"
We Iiked the Montagnais of the
Cote Nord. They are a shy, quiet,
rather good- looking people, and
Canada's most primitive Indians.
In Seven Islands, they have bowed
to progress, moved into houses and
even taken to riding the ore trains
to their hunting grounds. But in
laxingan — and farther east at .Rom -
eine and St. Angnstin — they are
less touched by the white people.
They pitch their tents and make
their canoes tend go, as their an-
cestors did, to the ancestral hunt.
Ing grounds le the Labrador inter-
ior. -
We Watched an old man putting
the floor boards into his canoe with
brown, gnarled fingers, and Mar-
velled. Each piece of a Montagnais
canoe Is -hand- made, and so Beatty
fitted' that nails are used only for
tacking, the canvas to the gun.
wales. And, although the canvas
today is froth "The Bay", the 'skill
is a very, very anolent One,
dust once along that coast did We
treat a Montagnais man who seethed
to have adopted the barter system c f
Indians •who live farther west In
Canada and 'keep an eye on the
totiHet t rade,
That tall, lean Indian invited uw
into his tent, filled with the fresh•
siuelling spruce shavings. From On,
der a.paeking ease, he drew his .of
ferings of the tourist - hinting In-
dians, it was typical. A pair of well -
made, tightly -beaded Indian nim•
casins.
Bat there the resemblance ended,
For these moccasins -- cross my
heart! — were lined with mink!
The mink, lined Indian moccasiva
were behind us. So were many miles
of the Quebec Cote Nord that day,
as we stood on a high, windy hill-
top above the English - speaking
village of Harrington,
Below, in a Lilliputian harbour,
we could just see our last "home",
the Grenfell Ship, Northern Mes-
senger, tugging at its anchor. The
good doctor on board had been one
of our good Samaritans on this
hitch - hiking route along the coast.
So had an X-ray clinic on the Maris
Stella. So bad an affable and 11 -
together charming Frenchman, eruI•
sing the coast that summer on It
government land survey.
Now. below us to the left, the
little 35 -foot mail boat waited to
take us on the final tap of bur
journey to the Straits of Belle Isle.
Our arrangements were made with
"Uncle Norm" Jones, who promised
to take us with him—along with
the mail and a crate fall of husky
pups bound for Bale St. Paul.
But the weather for two days had
refusal us the co-operation that
the coastal people had given as so
willingly. The south-east wind has
been whooping and hollering across
the sulky Gulf of St. Lawrence.
spitting with rain and ill temper.
Looking down on those sea- wash-
ed rocks below us, we knew this
was no coast to cruise in a storm !
Catching our breath against the
wind, we remembered the Aim -
sine' description of the origin of
this land, related that morning by
our North Shore hostess in Harring-
ton. — By Adelaide Leiteti in The
Canadian Girl.
"Good morning, doctor," said
the young man. "I just dropped
in to tell you how much 1 bene-
fitted from, your treatments,"
"But you're not a patient of
mine," the doctor said.
"No. It was my uncle. I'm his
heir."
evor..nalolingt D. CLuzlit.e,
At long last the countryside
is looking very green and very
beautiful. And there is blossom
everywhere—cherry and apple
trees, flowering almond and ja-
ponica, all in full bloom. This .in
spite of several anxious nights
when frost threatened to black-
en flowers, fruit blossoms and'
vegetables. From present indi-
cations lilacs and lilies of the
valley should soon be out in
bloom, shedding their fragrance
into the air. About a month late,
of course, but better late than
never, don't you think? And now
that we can get around in the
garden without rubber boots
isn't it fun finding out what
plants have survived the winter?
I was delighted to find pansies
in bloom and ever so many
seedlings of the Siberian wall-
flower one of my readers gave
me last year. Also now shoots of
iris and a few perennials.. All
my geraniums are now outside
—but still in their pots—it has
been far too wet to set them out
in the garden. But, oh dear, I
was really afraid I was going
to lose them all. It was that very
hot day that 1 carried all the
plants out to the garden. And
what happened? You remember,
don't you—the temperature sud-
denly dropped and we had frost
for two nights, I took a chance
and did not cover the geraniums.
Next morning I was almost
afraid to look at thein. Pinailry
I plucked up cc urage—and they
were all right, Atter caring for
the plants all winter wouldn't
it have been awful to lose them
in June?
Another thing we did on that
first hot day last week was take
the furnace pipes down and clean
them. At least Partner did, I
also thought summer had come
and put my coat in storage. Two
days later , , well, 1 didn't get
my coat home bu;. we were only
too glad to have the furnace
going again. Partner says we
shall soon have to make plans
each year for getting in our
"summer" coal supply. Was
there ever such a chilly first
week in June? However, it is
nice weather for housecleaning.
Among other things I managed
to get all our windows cleaned
last week—at least on the inside:
Until then we were looking at
the world "through a glass dark-
ly." The outside I couldn't clean
as most of the windows stili
have the storms on. Guess we
hadn't better take them off yet.
Just as well not to get too rash
all at once. Maybe I was even a
little premature in getting an
oil change in the car the other
' day, Incidentally while that
little job was being done the
garage lent me a car to come
home with. When I got into it I
wondered if it would fall apart
before I got home. Then I no-
ticed it carried a "safety check"
sticker and that the motor
seemed to be running well, so I
felt reassured—which confirms
an opinion expressed by some-
one a few days ago that safety
stickers may build up a false
sense of security. Anyway at the
red traffic light the car stalled
and I couldn't start it. I fussed
around with the ignition, turn-
ing it on and off, but nothing
happened. A truck driver came
to my assistance, pressed the
button, and away she went. I
had forgotten that some cars
have push-button starters! Even
my little Morris was automatic.
I'll be more observant next time
I drive a strange car—which
isn't likely to be often because
under ordinary circumstances I
refuse to drive any car other •
than my own.
Well, I imagine the first few
days of June, 1956, will be re-
membered for other things be-
sides the cool weather There
was at least one hot spot—the
House of Commons at Ottawa,
If, and when, the gas gets mo-
ving one can imagine it might
be almost hot enough to warp
the pipes. It is to be hoped
there are not too many heart at-
tacks before the affair is settled.
Such terrific projects as there
are taking place from time to
time. I wonder how many peo-
ple saw "The St. Lawrence Sea-
way Story" on television? It
gave a. very clear picture of
what is happening, but yet, the
overall picture is so immense
and with such far-reaching re-
sults, that it staggers the ima-
gination. What a marvellous age
we are living in! Don't you tate
to miss one single detail of all
the developments that are its
progress, many of which are be-
yond aur understanding? Ws
know some folk like to be a big
fish in a little puddle but 1
think it is far more exciting to
be, a little fish in a great, big
puddle. There are exceptions, 01
course. For instance, here comet
an extra big fish . . . our nevi
grandson is just arriving for hit
first visit to Ginger Farm. Ha
doesn't know it, but at the mo -
Mont he is a very, very big fish,
And the rest of us splash around
very happily in the little puddle
which we have created around
him. Well, there you are, that
contradicts my previous state,
ment, of course—but then, lift
is full of ,paradoxes, isn't it/
Including» the weather. For in••
•stance—"What is so rareas a
day in June?"',,I wouldn't know
for it's raining again.
PORTRAIT OF GENTLENESS --- it. Ann Phillips extends c ketit,nt<
hand as she makes friends with a fawn under watcntul eyes
of its mother, Atlanta news phologra.nher GL4y Hayes mad.
this, gentle springtime portrait.•