Kelvin High School - Kelvin Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

Page 28 text:

SHORT STORY CONTEST hKs JUDGE’S REMARKS I IKE everything else, the short story is on the march. Stories considered J good when I first began to judge the Short Story Contests for Kelvin, would now go into the discard. People are beginning to understand psychology, to demand that the characters in a story, be not mere puppets of fate, but rational human beings capable of being changed by circumstances or of changing cir¬ cumstances. Some of the more radical editors are beginning to value content more than form. There are rare occasions when an incident has more emotional value than the more complicated form known as a short story. It is encouraging to note that the short story has elasticity and vitality enough, to adapt itself to a changing world. Submissions by the students this year are marked by the great variety of sub¬ jects chosen. Most of the students went to life for their material. Of course, there were the few who wrote on time-worn themes, but I think both teachers and students should be congratulated on the vitality of most of the subjects chosen. “Phil Returns,” I gave first place because it excels in form, content and characterization. There is no digression. From the first sentence one feels that the life on the farm is disintegrating. Change is imminent. That change, is going to be more than a change of place; it is going to be also a mental change. The writer creates an atmosphere that leads the reader to expect certain things and he does not let the reader down. “The Big Frogs,” is a very interesting psychological story, with a convincing small-town background. To it I give second prize. “The Play’s the Thing,” comes third, a convincing story of character change among students. I am glad to be able to give honorable mention to, “Size Thirty-Six,” “Brown Hands, “The Way to Glory,” and for the delightful intimate naturalness of the writing to, “My Ordeal.” Let me conclude with what I feel very strongly. There are no failures in this contest except those who did not try. Lillian Benyon Thomas. FIRST PRIZE. “Phil Returns” — Irene Benoit-, Room 22. SECOND PRIZE: “The Big Frogs” —Clarence Blundell, Room 26. THIRD PRIZE: “The Play’s the Thing” — Clare Robinson, Room 26. HONORABLE MENTION: “Size 36” — Betty Horne, Room 26. “Brown Hands” —Ruth Stunden, Room 25. “The Way to Glory” —Shirley Lister, Room 35. “My Ordeal” —Janet Rossini, Room 37. 16

Page 27 text:

hKs TO A CROW Unholy demon from the fiery land Of bubbling brimstone, writhing, damned souls, What evil deeds are by you being planned. As hopping slowly ’bout the grassy knolls, You turn to look at me with beady eyes Which rove about with blinking, glassy stare? With eyes too cold for man, for bird too wise, You chill me with your evil, icy glare. I think upon the lonely, bloody nest That hangs on yonder, whisp’ring poplar tree, Which droops at sight of gory, feath¬ ered breast Of mother of those tiny, missing three. —But should I question, who am but a man, That you’re but part of that prime¬ val plan? Clarence Blundell, Room 26. WINNIPEG, THE BEAUTIFUL The Frost-Elves and the Mist Maid¬ ens visited us the other night and gave to us a glimpse of glorious beauty, as shall remain in our memory to cheer us for many days. Describe it? Glory cannot be de¬ scribed. It is felt and known to the heart only. But look at the beauty with us—down the street, as far as the eye can reach, trees and shrubs are covered with a dazzling splendor. Hanging from every branch and twig, delicate tracery in frost-work may be seen, all so soft and white. As we look, the trees and shrubs assume a different shape, and lo! Vestal Virgins walk two by two, watched over by gracious matrons, dignified, tall, and stately. The trees on the river bank, so lately holding out bare, brown arms, are now smiling and clasping each other’s hands, softly clad in shimmering white mantles, which the gentle Mist-Maidens had given them. They had been so cold standing there, on the bank, so stark and bare, but now in their new mantles they were warm. They smiled at us as we passed and whispered, “Stay,” and nodded graciously. Reluctantly we hurried on and the beauty that our eyes had seen in the morning lived with us all the day, lightening our labour and making us eager to get out again to feast our eyes on such wonder. Marguerite Rowe, Room 12. 15

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DRAWINGS CONTRIBUTED BY STUDENTS hKs De t H l ' 7 u£KLe. y GftCBD tlvc 44 f euTe . y OsstsHoLrt• 30 FIRST PRIZE— Design. Drawn by Ruth Moncrieff Room 37. 17