St Johns Ravenscourt School - Eagle Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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JIM ZIMBITT - A TRAMP Jim Zimbitt had long hair — very annoying hair, which fell right down to his chest. When he brushed it, the first movements his head made it fall over his face. His hair was brown and bushy. He aslo wore a top hat which was so big that when he put it on his head, it slipped right down to his nose, where it stopped. He had an enormous amount of freckless; in fact it looked as though he was wear ing a mask. Jim had very dreamy eyes, for if you came near him, he just might mistake you for a bear. He was very clumsy in everything, could hardly walk, and everything he picked up he dropped. Jim could only go about a yard in two minutes. Jim was dressed in rags and tatters. He had enor¬ mous boots which came off on their own free will which made him quite annoyed. He carried a stick to which was tied a handerchief. His age is twenty but he looks about sixty because he is hunch-backed. Jim Zimbitt escaped his old home, where he was badly treated, at the age of nine. He doesn’t even know what a dime looks like, for he has not seen one for eleven years, and if you ask him, he will describe a nickle. He cannot even count and is very stubborn. He will not allow anyone to tell him that he is wrong, for he always says, I’m the right one. Youall are wrong.” PETER HAWORTH - GRADE 5 THE TALKING BRIEFCASE My old briefcase was getting too small for all my books in grade 4, so when I woke up on Christmas morning, I was pleased to see a shiny new brown leather briefcase left for me under the Christmas tree. When school started after the Christmas holidays, I packed my new briefcase with all my books, and just as I was struggling to fasten the lock I thought I heard a noise like Ouch.” I took no notice, but then I was carrying my case to the bus, I heard a little voice say, Oh dear, oh dear.” Who ever was it? I stopped and looked down at my briefcase, because that was where the voice seemed to be coming from. Then I heard it again; Oh dear, these books are too heavy.” I scratched m y head and stared at the case. (I wondered) Can a briefcase really talk?” It sure can, if you put too many books inside it!” came the reply. Oh, I’m sorry.” I said, What can I do to help you?” Take some of these books out, of course.” said the case. You are bursting my lock, and making my sides ache. ” I took two of my big books out of the case and carried them under my arm. Phew!” said the case, That feels much better.” So sorry case,” I said again, but I really didn’t know you could feel or talk. ” I sure can,” answered the case, but the trouble with you boys is that you are never quiet enough to hear. ” Now I treat my briefcase as a friend. His name is Bertie. I only fill him with the books that I really need, so he will not be angry again. JOHN EDWARDS - GRADE 4 THE MAGIC PEN One day a boy called Jim was walking along the road. He was thinking about the end of school, which was only a week away. Suddenly, he saw a pen which was lying on the road. He ran to pick it up as fast as he could because a car was coming. Jim ran to the pen and picked it up, then he ran back to the curb. Now the pen was safe. At school he examined the pen. To his surprise he saw little black stars on it. Something was different about that pen. Then after thinking for a while he remembered; it was a magic pen. So Jim made lots of wishes. Then he made a wish that the pen did not grant. He wished he was king. Jim said: ' Why didn’t you grant my wish?” The pen answered back, I have not granted your wish because it is not right to wish what you are think¬ ing. If you make that wish again, I will leave you for good, and go some other place.” But Jim paid no attention to the pen’s warning and went on making selfish wishes. Finally the pen got fed up with Jim’s wishes and stopped granting them. This made Jim very angry and he said, If you don’t start granting my wishes by tomorrow, I will break you in two and throw you in the rubbish.” When the next day came, the pen had made up its mind and said, I have decided not to grant your wishes because it would ruin my reputation.” So Jim broke the pen and threw it in the rubbish. But he kept a little piece of the pen to help him re¬ member the pen. As for the pen, since it was magic it put itself back together, all the pieces except the piece that Jim kept. So if you should see or find a pen with stars on it and a little piece of it happens to be missing, you shall know which pen it is. PAUL FINKEL - GRADE 4

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A DAY IN THE TROPICS The rising sun cast long grey shadows on the jungle. Gradually the sun rose over the horizon, the shadows diminished and the jungle prepared for the day. The night made its last effort to keep the day out, but the light burst through. The sun now cast its radiant rays on the broad leafed plants, bathing them with energy and life. The silence of the morning had now ceased. The day had begun. The wildlife stirred and rustled about the trees; something jumped and in a flash again disappeared. The chattering of the monkeys filled the jungle with noise. Suddenly I saw a glimpse of colour, and real¬ ized, when it had disappeared, that it had been a bird. Mother nature demonstrated her overwhelming power for beauty and grace. It was obvious who was ruling here. Within the hour the storm ceased, and the afternoon sun shone brightly on the jungle. Slowly the sun sank into the west. Again the darkness challenged the light and this time emerged the victor. Once more it was night. MICHAEL HAMMOND - GRADE 7 EW THE DISCOVERY OF SPANISH GOLD The story lived, In the village square, That a cargo of gold, Had sunk somewhere. From early youth, A boy had thought, That he might find The very spot. With logs and rope He built a raft, And started his search For the sunken craft. Among the islands With steady hands He sailed his raft To a beach of sand. There in the shadows Still bright and gleaming He saw the old treasure And thought he was dreaming. But the gold was real, So he loaded his raft And while he sailed for home He laughed and laughed. ROYDEN RICHARDSON - GRADE REMOVED OUR TOWN Our town is a forgotten hamlet Grand Junction. The name is completely misleading as it is neither grand or a junction, except for two dried up creeks. These creeks flow only in spring and at this time it seems to enjoy leaping out of its bed to soak the livestock and dis¬ gruntled farmer, and to drown the newly planted crops. Just to sum up, Grand Junction is a town in the middle of nowhere. The people of this town are notorious for their inability to work. It must be hereditary for every child seems to inherit the lazy habits of his parents. There is Alfred, the barber, an insipid individual, tasteless and dull. There’s Mike the keeper of the general store who, when not working, hasn’t the faintest idea of how to behave. There’s Ray, the sheriff, who is concise as he can possibly be, and this sets an aura of humour about him. I remember that one time Ray arrested a man, who was later revealed as the mayor of the big city ten miles away, for parking overtime on a parking meter. The ghastly look on his face as he fainted was the most comical spectacle I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. There is Miss Jones, an elderly spinster, who is as noisy as a blue jay in mating season. Then there is Mrs. Gilford; as genteel as anyone could possibly be. The people are usually observed staggering down the street with the most comical gait, quite like a horse with a broken leg, and they hang out by the barber’s shop in a fashion that leaves much to be desired. The men are seen in faded blue jeans and plain cotton shirts, often unshaven and dirty, smelling of tobacco, fresh earth, vegetables and tractor oil. The women are seen also in blue jeans and extremely masculine blouses although they are frequently scented with cheap per¬ fumes applied lavishly to cover up the less dignified scents after a hard day in the fields or in the kitchen. The children are their parent’s pride and joy and follow their parents wherever they go. The town is not prosperous, mainly through the fact that most of the people lose what little drive they have towards the age of twenty-one. However the natives of the town seem content to carry on in their own lazy way, barely able to live off the dry soil that surrounds the town. MARK MILNE - GRADE REMOVE

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V 1 W j I r , i ! n BACK ROW, Left to Right: Dickson, Shore, Morris, Mr. Beare, Webster. MIDDLE ROW: McGee, McMorris, Johnson, Gosko, Milne, Hammond, Wallace, Beaton. FRONT ROW: Heffelfinger, Dickson, Boult, Stein, Barnes.