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

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TH H OAKWOOD ORACLE The Market Blame The market-place of Beirut was crowded. A seething tumultous mass filled it from end to end. Men, there were men of all nations, castes and religions. Hin- du traders, Persian merchants, ln- dian fakirs, men from Ispahan, Bagdad, the plains of Trans-Cau- casia and Bokhara thronged the square. There were men with brown faces, men with nearly white, aquiline features. and men with dark. swarthy coniplexions. A Hindu at a richly ornamented stall held up a necklace of spark- ling, red rubies, calling on the populace to behold and buy. A few stepped forward, followed by a wild pathan from the Himalayas. One thousand rupees, shrilled the son of Judah, eager to be first, and fixing his glistening eyes on the string of jewels. By the beard of the Prophet! exclaimed the Pathan, his evil fea- tures bearing a look of contempt, a paltry offer for such a prize, two thousand rupees will I say. The auction proceeded. the price went higher. The Jew's brow be- came wet with the sweat of an- xiety, his rival's face, however was cool and composed, in the extreme. Ten thousand rupees, sudden- ly piped the Jew, as he wiped the moisture from his forehead. What sayest thou? said the Pathan, leering in his antagonistls face, so that he drew back. Then his face became distorted with an- ger. and the thunder-god sat on his brow, O Jew, thou dost jest! Such a sum is to be found only in the minds of idle dreamers. Then, there was a glint of steel. an evil laugh and a body rolled in the dust. Thou wilt receive the offer of five hundred rupees, by Allah! said the slayer, with a sardonic sneer, holding his blade to the Hindu's throat. Obtaining an unwilling assent, he snatched up the stones. threw down his money, and hastily de- parted into the waving sea of hum- anity in the square. Another transaction had taken place in the market of Beirut, and the crowd moved on as before,- unseeing,-unknowing. Fred Bell 1 B. 3519 the jfire The wind blew loud with an eerie moan Through key-holes and chinks with a deeping tone. l sat by the fire and saw in its gleam The light that floats in the land of dream. I dreamed of gold, and castles in Spain, Of plaudits and honour and glory and fame, Ot' fields, and of streams, of mansions, and cots, Of gardens filled with forget-me-notsg Oi' hundreds and thousands of fanciful things: As I sat by the fire my thoughts had wings. bk Pl' Then I woke, and the fire was grey and cold, And gone were my visions of castles and goldg Yet a melody lingered with comforting sound, Vhough the wind still wailed in the world around. Ijflfjl' l U'l'fjl-Sl..I' l'IlJlTH Kink, n., C.

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mother, sitting there alone. Then Peterkin was puzzled. He sat for a long time, staring first at the strange starlet, and then at the window in the small white house. And then he understood. He hui'- ried over to the strange starlet. who was no longer strange, and taking her hand a little timidly, lcd her back to the corner he al- ways played in. They smiled hap- pily at Marian's mother. but she only looked at them sadly. But Peterkin was so happy that he smiled at her over and over again THE OAKWOOD ORACLE Then that sad look in her eyes went away, and a faint smile came over her face: at last Peterkin and Marian knew she was no longer lonesome or unhappy. Marjorie and Teddy never knew who the strange starlet was, but they knew that she brought Peter- kin's smile back, so they loved her too. So if you see a very happy little star tumbling about in the big. blue meadow, some evening, and a shy, little star close by, you may know it is Peterkin and Marian made her understand. until he you see. The Behr! CAn Adaptationj .Yriting all day at Botany tests, And marshaling figures in rows, Debiting purchases, crediting sales, Discounting provisions and clothes. Sitting all day at a miserable desk, With fifty more doing the same, -Xnd the road outside where the traffic goes by, Like a flickering, beckoning flame. I am sick of the school routine, Sick unto death of the rut, Tired of being a cog in the wheel, And receiving marks like a nut. I want to get out, to go drifting again, To forget about lessons and files. And search out a road that winds through the hills, And follow it miles and miles. I long for the peace of a country retreat, For the stars on a desert at night, Or the laugh of a girl in a Mexican town, Or the brilliant Sunnyside lights. I hear the road calling, I know I'll be gone, When the summer skies are heavenly blue, Latin, Algebra, French and other books, You're welcome to take them, I'm through. MARIAN FLEMING, Form 2B. Page Forty-Fire

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THE OAKWOOD ORACLE Q iiaeru of Qliherphap life A tiny town lay nestled in the hollow of the great hills like a vil- lage one reads of, but seldom sees. The snow lay in great drifts against the darkened houses. On all sides were the great reaches of snow, glistening in the glorious light of the new moon. The great trees stood with their branches touching the ground with their spotless burdens. In the town all was quiet except at the inn where the ruddy glow of the fire shone through the windows upon the snow, for the people of Nizhniz retire early. Suddenly from across the hills came the tinkle of distant sleigh-bells. The sleigh drew nearer. As it reached the inn Nichole, the proprieter came to the door, but on seeing the arms of Peter Novgorod em- blazoned on the sleigh-door he turned into the inn again and kick- ed the dogs and cats from in front of the fire. He then called his son Ivan to meet the guest at the door while he changed his smock. Ivan arrived at the door just as the most beautiful person he had ever seen stepped from the sleigh. She was dressed from head to foot in costly sables and her eyes look- ed Iike the blue of the sky at noon- day. As she walked toward the fire she took off her fur toque and the glow of the fire brought out the glorious gold of her hair. As the time-worn clock on the door of the barn struck the hour of midnight, all the inn lights were put out. Ivan sat alone before the fire when he was awakened from his reverie by the clattering of feet upon the inn-yard. The door burst open and in came a band of the revolutionary army. Vodka, vodka they cried throwing them- selves upon the setees around the room. Ivan jumped quickly at their bidding. Little thinking of their mission he conversed with them and found that they were seeking for Moritza, daughter of Peter Novgorod. She had taken refuge in flight from the stricken capitol of Russia. Down with the aristocratslu re- sounded through the room as the men became more intoxicated with vodka. Suddenly the door burst open and one of the men rushed in from the yard shouting I have seen her, I have seen her. Soon everything was in an uproar and the man explained that he had seen Maritza at one of the windows in the upper story. Even though he was a peasant and she was the des- pised aristocrat, Ivan thought only of her helplessness. He rushed up the narrow stairs to the door of her room which opened off an equally narrow land- ing. The peasants followed him fir- ing, wildly. One of the bullets lodg- ed in Ivan's side but he cared little for the pain. He entered the room and barred the door, shoving a heavy chest of drawers against it. He turned then and told Maritza that there was only one hope of es- cape and that was through the win- dow. He glanced into the court- yard and found that there were about six men acting guards there. Between them was a keg of vodka. Turning to Maritza he said, You watch the window and when they are ouite drunk tell me. Until then I will try to hold back this angry mob. Standing upon a chair he pres- sed his pistol to an opening. high up on the door. Soon confusion reigned on the narrow passage- way. Quick, cried Maritza. they are going into the stable. Picking up her cloak she threw it around her shoulders. Ivan jumped from the narrow ledge to the stable be- neath and then caught Maritza. Neither were hurt as they iurnped to the ground upon the soft snow. Page Forty-Scrrfn