True Story

The Early Bird Gets the Worm

In a northern suburb an aspiring Chief Justice awoke, yawned, and jumped into a cold bath. But even as his Nelson Eddy voice rose above the melodious murmur of falling water the icy chime of seven-thirty struck a note of pante into the frosty morning air. So seizing a Gillette blade in one hand and a porridge pot in the other, he burst from the house in an attempt on the thousand metre record.

But alas! this morning the stage is late and at Government Buildings it wants but two minutes to the hour. Never foiled, our hero hails a passing cab and in one minute climbs above the cold cruel commerical city onward and upward into the stratosphere.

An interchange of currency, a sprint up the drive and our here lands safe within the portals of his Alma Mater. Save for the swish of three brooms all is silent as a tomb. Like one who treads alone some banquet hall deserted, he tiptoes to the notice board and reads, "The second term will begin on Monday, June 2nd."