FEW NATIONS ARE better qualified than this one to look dispassionately on the institution of monarchy. We have grown up under monarchs but have never, since the real beginnings of our growth, been ruled by them. Unlike the two great nations from which our main roots stem, we have never groveled at a king’s feet nor cut off a king’s head.
I AM GLAD Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh have chesen October for their visit to Canada, for it is a month of infinite beauty, Unlike England, where the seasons melt imperceptibly into each other and even then are not easily distinguishable, there are drama and excitement in the Canadian cycle.
ONE THING probably distinguishes the present royal tour from any of its predecessors since 1860: Nobody on either side of the Atlantic planned it the way it’s turning out. This visit has snowballed by public demand from a modest fortnight’s holiday to a forty - eight - day journey covering eighteen thousand miles.
Here, and in the stories and pictures on the following eight pages, are the young couple all Canada is waiting to meet, in their own home, at work and having fun, they emerge as happy friendly people facing with dignity and courage one of the toughest jobs in the world
THESE turbulent twentieth-century days have taken some of the glittering romance out of royalty. Though Elizabeth’s England still retains the pageantry and tradition, the pomp and circumstance, the future casts forward its more realistic shadow.
PRINCE Charles Arthur Philip George, the tousle-haired husky son and heir of Princess Elizabeth and Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, had some grave news to give his sailor father when he met him at the airport here not so long ago. Stumping boldly across the tarmac and clutching the parental hand he said, “Daddy, I’m going to be a soldier!”
Yousuf Karsh took these historic color photos for Maclean’s at a private sitting not long before the royal couple left for their tour of Canada. Shown the results, Princess Elizabeth chose the picture at the left as her favorite
WHEN I flew to London this summer to take these pictures of Princess Elizabeth, Prince Philip and their children for the publishers of Maclean’s I carried in my two hundred and seventy pounds of excess baggage four toys. The bulk of the baggage consisted of lights and other photographic equipment for the private sitting I had been granted at Clarence House.
Victoria came to the Throne as a slim fair girl of eighteen, battled palace politics, brought England safely through the industrial revolution, built the greatest empire ever known9 and founded a new beloved dynasty
<p>I COULD SERVE a Queen with even greater zeal and fidelity than I could a King,” said Captain Frederick Marryat, author of Masterman Ready. “If we refer to our history,” he added, “we shall find that England never was so great and so glorious as under the sceptre of her Queens.” When Canadians see Princess Elizabeth this month and wonder what to expect of her futurereign their thoughts are likely to swing back to the rule of Queen Victoria.</p>
Letty took to the road with her seventeen years and her empty heart. Then, in a whistle that sang like wind in the trees, she found a boy called Mac
WARE TORREY BUDLONG
EVERY TIME a car came along the road behind her she turned fast to be sure it wasn’t someone coming after her, to take her back. When she saw a bend in the road ahead she always hoped something might be better around the comer, different anyway, but it was always the same hard white road, the same dusty trees, the same tired houses.
James Stanley McLean is rich, powerful and proud of it. He is also a paradox. The millions he makes from his giant meat-packing plants he spends on flower gardens, good music, subsidizing a left-wing paper and maintaining the world’s biggest collection of Canadian paintings
THE LATE Walter Trier, a sensitive artist who created many droll advertisements for groceries by Canada Packers Limited, once spoke with a shudder about “the anguished bugling” of some six thousand cattle, hogs and lambs which every day are readied for slaughter in the coast-to-coast company’s headquarters plant on St. Clair Avenue West, Toronto.
Many educators would like to see homework go the way of the old birch rod, but they know that parents want their children to work nights. And yet, there’s not a scrap of evidence that homework helps a child get a better education
UNTIL a few years ago school children were about the only ones to protest against homework. Parents liked it because they felt it was character-building, helped their children get an education and keep off the streets at night. Teachers went along with it, because it was an accepted part of the academic structure.
Although the beautiful little capital of P. E. I. might pull a wry face over the emigration of its sons and daughters, it manages to have lots of fun with its harness racing, sea beaches, informal politics and its breezy mayor who sometimes delivers the groceries
WHEN Field-Marshal Viscount Alexander, the Governor-General, last visited Charlottetown, the Premier of Prince Edward Island, Hon. J. Walter Jones, was late for an official reception. Jones finally turned up a bit out of breath and announced that he had been delayed by a blessed event:
SINCE I GOT MARRIED seventeen years ago I’ve discovered a lot of things about my wife that have had me talking softly to myself. But one thing that has brought us perilously close to divorce is her attitude to shopping. Somewhere down beneath her hair-fix is an outlook on the whole world of buying, selling and trading that’s as queer to the average male as the inside of a sewing basket.
A FRIEND of mine got married recently and set up housekeeping. After a day or two his bride remarked she was hungry for fish and asked him to stop on his way from work and bring home some halibut. Now “some” is an indefinite adjective, and when used to modify halibut at a fish counter it becomes even more indefinite.
The taxi driver lives on luck and hope: the next fare may be to Florida or 27b Finkel Street
THERE’S a sign on the Coke machine in a taxi office I know that bears the words: “All Drinks Five Cents But Some are Blanks.” All of us—including Douglas Abbott—know that pop is seven cents, but no cabbie ever has coppers in change. So he takes a chance.
In lonely hilltop houses near the sky, On level prairie farms stretched glistening Beyond the utmost vision of the eye, Thousands you’ll never see. are listening To marching hands and music in the street— They cannot come, and yet they long to he Part of the noisy shouting throng, to greet You with their welcome, joyously;
IF THE story of how we prepared this special issue could be compressed into capsule form, about the size and shape of an aspirin tablet, it would start with a girl called Lois walking into our office with news of the royal tour. She was the last person around here to walk slower than a lope from that time until the issue went to press.
ALICE IN WONDERLAND: Walt Disney and his army of gag-writers, cartoonists and technicians, employing the almost too familiar voices of invisible celebrities on the sound-track, have turned Lewis Carroll's sly fable into a handsome but disappointing movie. There are some delightful moments, but not nearly enough of them.
It is with a feeling of sincere appreciation that I write to congratulate you on publishing that most touching article, Is a Sense of Duty Breaking the King? (Aug. 15). Your article has helped me to realize what a terrible burden it must be for him, with all his obligations, especially during these difficult periods ...
PUBLIC ceremonies for Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip recall to an Ottawa correspondent the celebration last Commonwealth Day (May 24), commemorating the birthday of Queen Victoria, in Ottawa’s Lower Town. Canadiens, with their love for a fête hung bunting on the store fronts while children romped with fireworks.