"You may go out by the Perth road, the Ash road, or the Kinbuck road, but you may NOT go out by the Dunblane road." Only as "duty mon" was I ever in Dunblane except as one of a party. "Duty mons" were responsible for collecting the mail at the Post Office, on Sundays when there was no delivery and, in the evening, taking it up to the Commandant's house at Landrick. The first part was fine - you could have an ice cream in town, rare luxury, or, in the winter (for then no sensible person ate ices in winter), a plate of hot peas and vinegar, but in the evening it was a different matter. Walking up by that wood on the top of the slope behind the married quarters on a winter evening, with the wind making eerie sounds in the trees, was no fun, even if you could persuade someone to "chum" you up.
I went into the Study Class in 1911, with three others, Crichton, Pollock (I think) and "Jim" Pirie. I was younger than the others who all passed out a couple of years before me. Jim Pirie I last saw in Lahore less than a year before his battalion (he was RSM and in the unit they called him "Jock") went to Hong Kong and a Jap POW camp. He was scandalised to learn that I did not possess an "Old Victorian" tie, and on the instant tore the one he was wearing from his neck and thrust it on me. It was, however. New Year's Eve, the impulse had evaporated the next morning, and he called to get it back. However, I still wear it occasionally.
Crichton was a great lad, popular with all the boys. He and one of the pioneers made a cross-talk pair for our concerts. He worked hard to pass at the exam for "Student-studying-for-Army-School-master" (which was the only way I could explain to orderly sergeants what my "civil occupation" was), and I believe he made it on second attempt, but went as instructor to the new armies, then out to France, and was killed, I believe at Loos, and, I believe, before he was 21. Mr Bairstow used to say, "I wish you were all like Crichton. He may not know as much as you do, but he puts all his goods in the window." - because Crichton knew how to conceal his ignorance of part of what was asked for in an examination question, and bring out every fraction of what he did know on the point.
I remember how, when we were assembling for evening study (two hours, and Mr B. gave us plenty to keep us busy), he would come in at the head of a "Conga" chain - though this was before the "Conga" was danced - playing Here Comes The Chocolate Soldier on the mouth organ. But once the clock had struck he'd see they was no skylarking.
One must stop somewhere, so why not here? Other echoes come surging up, protesting - "Who ate the policeman's pie?"; "Thanking you for your kind cake."; "No, he Extinguished himself"; "Joshua to Elizabeth, Sir." But no, enough is enough.
E. V. C. Hayes (46).

 SKYDIVING AND PARACHUTING OF YESTERDAY AND TODAY

About 150 years ago a man whose name I'm afraid I don't know, thought up the idea of a parachute, but if you had seen his idea I don't think you would have agreed to it trying to float down to earth without killing yourself, because the weight of the parachute was much heavier than the weight of the person who was foolish enough to be the guinea pig, for the structure was made of wood.
Then years passed and some Japanese man thought up an idea for making the parachute structure out of thin metal, but this was not a very suitable idea either.
Then men began to get the idea of having the canopy rounded, not triangular. This worked wonderfully but there had to be a few changes - the canopy enlarged - different types of harness were used and different cloth or silk or nylon was tried. Best results were the nylon canopy for it had small holes in the nylon so that the air could pass through the chute and also nylon was much cheaper than silk. Different names - the most modern one nowadays is the Commando Chute (American) which you can handle, guide and hover with. The speed of the descent is 10-12 m.p.h. There's different positions which you guide yourself across the sky.

Alistair F. Christie, 1A/B.

BLUBBER  RUBBER!

I own a rubber,
which is made of blubber, and rubber's blubber is thick I
If you eat the blubber, of the blubbery rubber,
you might feel awfully sick !
BEWARE ! the blubbery rubber, might be in your rubbery blubber!

Michael W. S. Quinn, P7A.

LOCUST

The locust enters,
opening the door naturally
as if he lived here
in my cave.
Touching everything
pollution, contamination,
touching,
under his sickening fingers
beauty turns to puss.
The locust spoils.

Stephen Bruce, V