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

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THE OAKWOOD ORACLE come back into the day. The light dearie. Thank you. That was all in the room was good. She looked there was to say. The chess game at lleetie happily. continued. Neither lost. It was a I-l understand Beetie, my draw. jiluscuhitrb Crash! Thirty doors flew open. .-X vague, indefinite, growing, thun- dering noise sniote the ears of the trembling council. The school had risen. Led by the Fifth, a howling mob of students poured through the halls, demolishing everything in its path. Their frightened custodians fled to the shelter of the inner sanctum, and heard with white faces the approaching tumult. Suddenly a rush of feet in the room above brought down the plas- ter, and the piano banged out a crashing challenge, while a hun- dred voices rent the air in ear splitting shrieks of joy. To the archives. Burn the prison records, shouted the lead- er, Follow me, comrades. To the archives, repeats the crowd, and the streaming mob overturns lockers with a crash. Beneath, the senior and junior consuls with the assembled senate, are hastily deliberating. On all sides are cries of despair. One sen- ator's teeth are chattering, so cool he is in the face of danger. A crowd of humanity pours down each stairs. Burn the records, shouts the mob. Disperse the senate, shouts the leader, but the senators, all but one, have already gone, via the win- dows. The archives are in the hands of the mob. The last rays of sunlight are supplemented by the blazing symbols of despotism. The fire and sun sink low. The late senator creeps cautiously away. Oh, freedom's dreams at last have come, We talk, we smoke, and chew our gum, Oh formula of figures not, Oh be forgot, oh be forgot. Comrade Fenelonski. Shekels Little silver pennies, shining in the sun, 'l'ell a tale of long ago, Little bits of silver show, lllints ol' former days, of glory gone. Little silver pennies, shining in the glow, Of a thousand lamps, The eerie flares of camps, Long burnt, shimmer in their silver row. Little silver pennies lying peaceful now, Wand'ring at an end, Never more will they befriend, The lost tribes of long ago. Page Tll,'l'llf1l'Ffllll' II.S.K. V.ll.

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THE OAKWOOD ORACLE illibe Sentinel Upon a head land reaching out into a lake stood a mighty tree. Many yards behind it stretched the forest, dark and forbidding. But aloof and alone, his giant arms out- stretched, the Sentinel kept guard. When the Storm King ad- vanced, first to challenge him was the Sentinel. Back to the forest he signalled warning, Be ready, be steady, and the children of the forest made quick preparation, for never was the warning false. When ever a storm was nigh the birds gathered in the mighty branches of the Sentinel, and he loved them as his own, and guard- ed them in his close shade, giving them hospitable shelter. To him they brought their birdlings in their pride, and he watched them lovingly. When they could fly afar, he was the landmark by which they steered their course 4, and his head was home. The wild forest creatures played beneath his shade, and many a dis- pute the wise old patriarch settled, and sent them away at peace with each other. In a clearing in the forest be- hind the Sentinel stood a log cabin, built by a sturdy settler. Here he and his young wife raised their little brood. Always they loved to play beneath the spreading shade of the Sentinel, and the lads would climb its branches for play and rest. The eldest son, stal- wart and serious with the grow- ing responsibility of young man- hood upon him, more than the v- others, loved the Sentinel. To the hoary tree he whispered his ambitions and his hopes, and to it he told his love when that day came. The echoes of the great world came but faintly to this sheltered spot, but one day, all too plainly rang the trumpets, and wild war stalked across the land. The eldest son buckled his knap- sack on his back, waved his good- bye and answered his country's call. Beneath the Sentinel he paused, raised his cap from his fair young brow, and cried aloud: On guard, old friend! And then away he went. Left alone, the Sentinel griev- ed. Moaning in all his branches he stood, a little bowed now, weary with battling the storms of many years, and with his best-loved away fto the warsl. When the battles raged, a brave, young man was given sentry duty for a night. Came the enemy: swiftly the challenge, Who goes there '? was answered by a treach- erous thrust. But ere he fell, swiftly he gave the signal: lie ready, be steady. Later he was carried home, and laid to rest beneath the shade of the old Sentinel That night the Storm King raged again, and after he had feebly sig- nalled a warning to the forest, the Sentinel shook in all his branches, and sighing, crashed to earth, his duty done. Adelaide E. R. Sternberg, IHA. Yx '-1 'I 'I Idita- .-e' gfi ' - 4' 'ffl 'il3?7 if 'Grill-ll A S K E PTI C Page Twmzty-Fine