The improved facilities of Perth Road also resulted in an expansion in the number of extra-curricular activities. The Park Place building had been the venue for many clubs and societies and the move to the new Harris saw many of these activities attract even wider support. Perhaps the best example of this is provided by the guides. Founded in 1921 by Nancy McEwan, the Guides Company was soon a popular attraction for the girls of Park Place and this enthusiasm was carried over into the new surroundings of Perth Road. For many girls, the regular Friday night meeting was a highpoint of the school week:

Friday! Guide night! Forty-eight girls, weary and worn from the week's exertions, seek out from the depths of the wardrobe the old blue uniform and still more battered hat and hie themselves down to school. All is excitement and pleasant anticipation. What will we get tonight? After inspection, maybe a new dance or game, a nature or observation test, a first aid or knot lesson will keep us busy. It is the end of the month - will the Poppy or the Blue Tit carry off the monthly medal? All these and hundreds of other questions race, one after another, through our forty-eight heads.

Such activities helped to pass the long winter nights but many of the members of the 18th Guides Company must have longed for the coming of spring and the new opportunities that longer nights and better weather provided:

As soon as we can, out we go into the country where nature has quickened the hedges and there we lay and follow tracks, watch out for signs of bird or beast, listen to and learn the calls of the birds and become acquainted with the habits of the creatures of the wood and wayside. We soon find out which wood is good to burn on our hike fires and which kind fills our eyes with smoke and fails to provide the flame to sizzle our ham and eggs, tomatoes and sausages.

The highlight of the year, however, was provided by the annual summer camp:

What would summer be without Camp? It means a week of sleeping under canvas, basking in the sunshine, bathing in delightful rocky pools, climbing hills, going long walks, singing around the camp fire, and, apart from all these pleasures, hard work. We trip around in our usually unbecoming camp uniforms, wearing no stockings even in the rain, our hair tossing in the wind, and our laughter echoing behind us.

Such activities ensured that the Guides Company maintained a healthy membership and led to the foundation of a Brownies pack in 1936. Friday now became a day of special significance in the lives of many of the younger children:

At twelve o'clock on Friday, I hurry home as fast as I can. It is Brownie day. At home, I change into Brownie uniform, belt and tie, comb my hair neatly, and away I fly. At lessons, I think of nothing but them and the Brownies. At last the time comes to go. I wash my hands and into the hall I hurry. Then in comes Brown Owl and the Tawny Owls too. We play games, then the sixers collect our money. We pass tests, have more games, and then the time comes to go home. I just wish another Brownie day would come.

The popularity of the Brownies proved so great that, within a year, the membership was full and a waiting list had to be introduced.

The boys also had a liking for fresh air and healthy exercise and this was amply catered for by the cycling club, organised by David Carrie. Every weekend, a party of boys would leave Camperdown Park gates to explore the neighbouring countryside and, very occasionally, the Rector might even give permission for them to leave early on a school day for a special trip. On a fine summer day, an enjoyable outing was certain but, sadly, problems could arise:

Then came the rain! But it takes more than rain to stop a school cycling club, and we set off again still in the merriest of spirits. This was not to last for long, however, for soon we were drenched to the skin, and the rain could be felt dripping down our backs as we sped along over sodden roads. This must have lasted for about an hour when Mr Carrie decided to put on his coat. This was felt to be the end. Everyone seemed to decide immediately to make a dash for home. A minute later, half the party were specks in the distance. The excursion was over - except for one of us. Next day we learned that one bright pupil, who had apparently never been a scout, had mistaken east for west and, in his frantic search for Dundee, had found himself landed in the streets of the fair city of Perth.

The boys also had their summer camp which was normally held in a small field beyond the Recreation Grounds in Pitlochry. For the strenuous, hillwalking or a "fifty mile" cycle run were sure to stimulate a healthy appetite. For those interested in science, geological expeditions along the Tummel were organised by John Kerr and, on one of these outings, the boys found reason for more than a little excitement:

On one of these forays, gold (so-called) was found in very minute quantities. Claims were staked out in the approved Klondike manner, and there were visions of another El Dorado in Perthshire. But it was decided to leave the gold to grow a bit....

One day during the week was designated as visitors' day and was normally preceded by some last-minute, and fairly frantic, tidying-up as the boys tried to impress their guests with the way in which they had entered into the pioneer spirit of the great outdoors. The planned side to the camp was completed by a cricket match against a Pitlochry eleven but, as any member of the Boys Brigade can testify, much of the fun of camping comes, not from the planned activities, but from the inevitable horseplay among the inhabitants of the different tents:

Wednesday was "scrap night". Space does not permit a description in detail of the glorious combats of that evening. Suffice it to say that the cold daylight of Thursday morning showed several grisly specimens on view. Boot polish was all over the place, except on the boots of the campers, and, much to their disgust, fourth year had to wash their faces again.

While the school staff encouraged the pupils to enjoy the pleasures of the outdoor life, they did not neglect the wishes of those with more academic interests. From the earliest days of the school, the Literary Society was held on a regular basis. The original "Lit" was founded in the 1890s with the encouragement of Dr Brebner. Its primary purpose, according to its first constitution, was "the promotion of friendly and intellectual intercourse among the past and present pupils of the Harris Academy". In keeping with this objective, it was at first largely an F.P. society which met every second Friday in the Park Place building, but gradually larger numbers of pupils began to play an active part.

The regular meetings of the society provided a forum where the weighty issues of the day were debated - "Should Capital Punishment be Abolished"? or "The Steam Engine versus the Printing Press". Inevitably, these discussions tended to be dominated by the former pupils while their juniors sat listening with "awe and wonder". At times these debates could become a little heated but such a contingency had been foreseen. Bye-law number eight of the constitution stated that "any member conducting himself in a disorderly manner shall be for the first offence admonished, for the second fined, and for the third expelled". Unfortunately, the bye-laws had not anticipated the possibility of rash action on the part of all the members. Consequently, when they expressed their disapproval of the Rector's action in banning a particular function by passing a vote of censure against Dr Brebner, the society found itself unceremoniously banished from the school premises.

Thankfully, the "Lit" recovered from this setback and Park Place once more opened its doors to its members, although one imagines this was only after humble apologies had been made to the Rector. The reinstated society continued to thrive and this soon resulted in expansion. Until 1912, the society was an exclusively male domain but, at a time when women's rights were a burning issue, it was only natural that the girls should demand a similar organisation. This wish was granted in 1912 when a separate Girls Literary Society was founded. The activities of this group, according to one observer, were full of educational merit:

The Girls Club seems to have been chiefly devoted to conversational practices in French and German, and to the singing of songs, no doubt in these languages.

The writer of this description was far from fair, however, for the annual programme of the Girls Society was extremely varied with such items as a Burns Night, a Hat Night when every member gave a short speech, dramatic interludes such as scenes from Sheridan's "Rivals", a lecture on Shakespeare's Songs and Ballads with musical illustration, and, perhaps inevitably, a debate on "Votes for Women". No doubt, the author of the description was a boy, intent on proving the superiority of the Boys Society.

The move to Perth Road saw the "Lit" continue in its traditional form. Many long-standing items were retained such as the Hat Night and Musical Evening while new features such as a mock election added extra interest. As always, former pupils were more than willing to appear as guest speakers, lecturing on such topics as "A Journey to the Holy Land" and "The Ports of the Baltic", while talks were also given by the pupils themselves. One can well imagine the feelings of these youngsters as they listened to the eloquent contributions of the guest lecturers, knowing that it would soon be their turn to speak:

I well remember the day when, as a mere stripling in my third year, I first dared to appear before my fellows of the Literary Society to give a paper. With a supreme effort of will, I braced myself for the ordeal, strove to control the wild beating of my heart, and stepped forward. There was a sudden silence, a silence which I had to break; the cynosure of all eyes, I felt that soon I was to be the butt of all critics. Supposing I should lose my place; supposing I should develop a stutter; hordes of hideous possibilities passed through my mind in an instant. For the first time I really appreciated the phrase "I wished the earth could open and swallow me". But again I braced myself, and the ordeal was passed.

To present-day pupils, accustomed to the instant entertainment of television, the appeal of such meetings may seem difficult to understand. They were, nevertheless, one of the major attractions of the school week and, by the mid-1930s, the two Literary Societies could boast a membership approaching two hundred.