Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada)

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THE OAKWOOD ORACLE Beatrire anti Quntie Auntie had something on her mind. It was obvious to Beatrice. It was eight o'clock in the morning and Beatrice was standing in the hall. She lifted books from the telephone-tableg dropped them into her school-bag. The door was open. The early wind crept between the pages of her books. She watched Auntie stooping over the small cream-bottle. The morning people were passing in the street. An auto-brake quarrelled with the quiet. Auntie was very old. She put the newspaper into her apron. It was her daily surprise to find it lying, each morning on the step, slenderly, like a present. Always she could not wait to read it. She would open it at the door excited. Something was wrong to-day. How is the Dragon '? Auntie turned, putting a thoughtful hand to her knee. t'Middling, Beetie. He slept quietly. The Dragon was Auntie's rheumatism. He was temperamental. They watched him with jealous care, for it was necessary, constantly, to placate him. Auntie turned the toast with a finger tip. Would you like to have lunch at school, to-day? Beetie did not ask why. It was the cus- tom between them never to spoil what the other said or did by ques- tioning. It was enough to be glad without reservations. That is a lovely idea. There is always lots of fun at noon. You must stay oftener, then. good-bye Y Auntie spread out the newspaper on the breakfast table. She could not read. Her glasses were steam- ed from the tea. She raised her cup, put it down. She could not drink. Last night she had heard two of Beetie's friends, talking. One had said: Oh, what is the use, with Beetie's old Aunt always around '? the other: 1 sure pity Bettie, with no one but that old Auntie in the way. She does not have much fun. Auntie had no one but Beetie. She was not like a mother, busy with her other children, busy with her husband, worried by number- less claims. No. She was old. The days gave her time to think out the things she loved, and to do them. She sewed amazing gar- ments. She cooked royal food. She shopped, bought something excit- ing as well as n.ecessary. A deli- cate glass cat for the mantel, a frail handkerchief for Beetie, a book of Elizabethan madrigals. She did not ramble in her talk, queru- lously as old women do. She talk- ed of things they both loved. She did not drag Beetie's thoughts from her. She put herself graciously at the elbow of her sympathy. They were very happy. Things were in- teresting. They laughed much. When it rained, that was new, if it was sunny, they were delighted. When it snowed they were surpris- special habit. ed. Auntie had a She liked to change about the fur- niture in the house at least once a series of fine week. Through a days she would put the table near the freshness. the window to lure have the pictures in different places, like surprises. After some such change, she would be breath- less until Beetie came home sud- denly, in the midst of things usual progressing. Oh Auntie, look, the candle- sticks have moved over to the win- dow. We can see them now, from the hall. Auntie would pant. smile, fumble with her small hands. Now her heart was full. They had been two people who loved each other, who did glorious things. Now, time stepped between. Her seventy years entered the house, darkening Beetie's light sixteen Page Twenty-One

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THE UAKWOOD ORACLE to reach it. It is useless, I must drift along at the slow pace set by my neighbours. In this state I round the corner and hear. above the chatter of the lower orders, the majestic height of that familiar voice: Do you want a detention 'F Then get into line. Suddenly I feel weak and feeble. That sudden shock is becoming too much for me. Again I look vague- ly around for my form as those piercing eyes light on me. I wait in trembling expectancy and my faith is rewa1'ded. Get into line, there! My dignity must be sacrificed. Quickly I step into the midst of a first form line and pass, quaking, before the death-dealing scowl. I have tried this remedy once or twice in place of the rapid-vanish- ing. I do not consider it quite as satisfactory, but something must be done. The line is never where any national line might be expected to be, and one is never sure just where it is irrationally. No amount of search will reveal its whereabouts, no degree of imagina- tion excuse it's absence. In fact, it is almost pure suicide to venture to the third floor at all. The second, and even the first floor is much more humane. They, at least, realise that those who have reached the dignity of fourth form cannot always be concentrating their tremendous brain-power on such a trivial matter as a demater- ialized line. We have been taught that a straight line is the shortest dis- tance between two points. Never- theless, if we venture to walk in such manner-in a straight line- we are usually conscious of vehem- ent protests from all sides. It seems that we are expected to travel in a straight line, but not in a straight line. Strange! Alas, it is too much for my poor weary brain. Besides, there's the bell, and I must get out in the hall and try and find that line. IVI.C.IV Q Moonlight Sonata The hour ol' midnight rang out high and clear, The strokes clanged through the silence one by one: The student raised his weary head and sighed, And opened up his dry, parched lips to groan. IIC brushed the tangled hair from off his brow Where beads of moisture rolled like cascades down, 1 IIis face was lined with care, his eyes were dim, He bore the traces of a constant frown. IIis book was open in his trembling hands, Its words were whirling wildly 'neath his eyesg Ilis weary brain was dull and took not in The knowledge that it was his wont to prize. Ilis ehatt'ring teeth, like castanets, met, to part, llis eye was wild, a flush his cheek 0'G1'SD1'0ZtdQ Ilis work was done, but so was he, alas, And bent and old he tottered off to bed. lhlfjl Tru lily M. C., IV.

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PHE OAKWOOD ORACLE stepped far from her. She was lonely. The cold tap dripped thinly. There was a glaze of butter and jam on the unwashed breakfast plates. She was tired. She was in the way. Beetie would be much happier without her. She saw all the little things she had done which had made her and Beetie happy. They were like the blossoming of flowers. Now, they seemed selfish, seeined subtle sna1'es to bind Beetie to her. They were rank. Hot shame filled her. Already she had tried to atone. She had laid the something which was on her mind on the table, when she had asked Beetie to have lunch at school. It was unobstrusive. Beetie had not noticed it. Five o'clock! Beetie: Which hand do you want? Auntie flutter- ed: The right one. Pop! Out comes a bag of Chelsea buns. I bought them for supper with the money I did not spend at lunch. Auntie looked at them blindly. Beetie was so good to her, selfish old woman. Beetie sat by the window, her school-books sprawled about her. The green lamp threw a circle around her. Auntie moved without the circle's influence, wiping dish- es, sadly, muttering came from the window, the whisper of pape1's, the complaint of a pen. Beetie leaned against the lamps, watched Auntie. Someone had jarred. to-day, at school. Ileetie had been hurt by their meaningless and cruel talk. Girl's talk. She moved her hand quietly up and down the table's smooth surface. She watched Auntie's movements. What would she do without her '? People were difficult. You must withdraw yourself-be on your guard with them. liut Auntie could come to your lieart's house. She knew the door. She knew the rooms. Her step was gentle. The kettle cloud- ed the room with its light plumes. live-ning had grown tall and looked in the pale windows. Pfffjf' Twenty-Two game of chess? My home- work is all done, Beetie, from the den. Auntie came in, her apron on. Beetie was concerned. Aunt- ie, you have worn your apron into the den.. It was the custom never to to that, never to mix aprons with dens. Is it the Dragon who worries you? Is he on edge to- night? No, dear, furtively. Auntie sat down quickly. Her head spun. How they loved chess! Kings, Queens, Knights, Castles of two Empires in swift conflict. Moving through this, the pawns. The Castle was an ogre's castle from the fairy-book. The White Knight was the Alice in Wonderland White Knight. The pawns had names. One was Clarence. The board was laid. It was the map. Empires unfolded. Beetie curled in her chair, eager. Draw, Auntie, Black or White. She drew Black. Youth against Age. The love you have against the love you may get. It is White's privilege to move first-youth. Beetie: tKing's pawn to king's fourthb Clarence, the page, fared along the highway on an errand for his Queen. Auntie: tQueen's Knight to Queen's Bishop's thirdi And Clar- ence falls in with a Black Knight. Intrigued Heetie ponders the des- tinies of her people. Three pawns, a bishop slain. Auntie's eyes are on lleetie. They seem to be learning her face by heart. Her thoughts converse- I must decide I must do something. I am old. I have been happy. What does it matter to me if the soul of this house I love, leaves it? lleetie: Ha, quoth the Bishop: I will attack yon gloomy castle. Auntie's bird-like hand makes one swift move. I cannot satisfy he1'. I am not her peer. Only the young can meet her mind. They, too, have the same thoughts, the same desires as she. Only they can give her what she needs. I am too far