By LOU DOLE
THE Calgary stores’ curling club, like everything under the direction of the athletic body of the big store, is an unbounded success. No game that one could mention is without its followers in our store and not only are they followers of the rock and broom game, the boys who have taken it up are good at it, at least they will say so and are willing to back up their assertions at any time.
Jack Smith is moving around the store with a lot of extra pep. He is skipping the only undefeated rink at present. Jack took the first game from our G.M. and the second round was also a win for him after a hard battle with Bill Cunningham. The following skips have broken even so far: J. M. Gibson, Bill Cunningham, Joe Marsh and Hutchinson.
A BOTTLE,
Two Calgary Girls–A Policeman–and the Boarding House Missus
By G. Brennand
SOME mixup–not the bottle and the girls, but the girls and the boardin’ house missus.
Miss “Joe” Hickey, who hails from Owen Sound, and Miss Irma Oliver, from the Gateway City, Winnipeg, came together in Mrs. Boyd’s invoice office. They decided to room together forever. If there is such a thing as two girls marrying–they married–and so one Wednesday afternoon they set out to seek lodging quarters. The first place they called, the woman looked them over and said, “Awa’ wi’ you! I’ll have no young and beautiful girls amucking up my parlor with their boy friends.” At the next place they were in luck. So the story goes, the boarding missus referred to above, welcomed them, welcomed them with the odor of Scotch and cloves.
They were to have the “two-room” suite in the attic, including use of the front “piazza.” Joe thought it was a cook stove and Irma giggled in delight; she thought it was a Christmas cake. So they moved in. As all “movings in” are dressed up by the imagination they were going to have such fun in this “dear” of a place–they talked of parties with coca-cola and everything!
Then they retired–poor Joe woke Irma up and said, “Did she (the woman of the Scotch and cloves) say this was a feather mattress?” Sleepily Irma said, “Yes.” Joe pushed Irma out on the floor. “You sleep there then, it’s my turn to sleep on the feathers.” In the morning, they broke the ice in the pitcher to get water. Irma said, “Not for me; ice baths may be well for Mrs. Blair, who has time to take ’em, but not for me, I’ve got that old card to punch!” With a dab here and a dab there of a little powder, they were away to work.
Coming home at night, bubbling over with anticipation and parcels oozing out of every pocket, they arrived in the “suite” with the piazza n’everything.