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

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KIDNAPPED One day in early March when John Mcquire, the son of the wealthy socialite Paul Mcquire, and I were taking our morning constitutional, a very frightening thing happened. Several men, who wore beside their regular attire nylon stockings over their heads, jumped out from among some bushes, grabbed John and put a piece of cloth over his mouth. Quickly, realizing that the men were kidnappers, I ran to get the police. Suddenly one of the gang tackled me. My head struck the pavement and I lost consciousness. When I recovered I found myself, along with John, in a small cave. Look, an empty bottle!” John point¬ ed out. What good does that do?” I inquired. If we can break it, we can use the fragments to cut our ropes,” John explained. Good idea! Our gloves will protect our hands,” I agreed. Following John’s advice, I kicked the bottle over to him. It shattered instantly on the rock. John picked up a piece and started cutting. I edged over, careful not to sit on arty glass. I picked up a piece of glass and started hacking away at my bonds. Since John started cutting first, he finished first. He quickly undid his leg ropes and my bonds. But one thing barred our escape, a door locked from the outside. John, who was quite a reader asked, ' Where can I get a sheet of paper? ” Under the bed,” I replied. Why do you want some paper?” I inquired. I read in abookthatifyoupush a newspaper under a door, push the key out of the lock with anything handy and pull the newspaper, you can get thekey,” explained John. Since the men left the key in the lock, it was an easy matter to push the key out onto the paper with a ball¬ point pen refill, pull in the paper and open the door. We walked out of the door and through a stone pas¬ sage. A stone door loomed up ahead of us. We quick¬ ly pushed this open. We then found ourselves a few hundred yards from a gas station and the main highway. Down the highway came a black car which John recog¬ nized as the gang’s. Whenwesaw the gang coming, we quickly ran behind a hedge for protection. We slowly edged along the hedge to the gas station. When we reached the gas station, we asked for the use of a phone. The owner motioned towards a pay phone in the corner. John took adime from his pocket and phoned the police. The sargeant told us that our parents were worried about us, and that they would be relieved to know of our safety. He also said that he would send some men over to try and capture the gang. We ran back along the hedge to the cave entrance. It was open, so we reasoned that the gang were inside. Paul, spying a lock and latch, quickly slammed the door and locked it. Soon the welcome sounds of police sirens were heard in the distance. A policeman stepped out of the front car and told us to go behind some rocks. Fortunately, the gang gave up without a fight. The policeman told us that there was a five-hundred dollar reward for the gang’s capture and that we would get it. Stuart Guest. Grade 6. THE LION SEEKS HIS MEAL. The king of beasts strode out of his den and looked carefully around for any sign of life. With his head up high, he strode on through the tall grass as the sun shone brilliantly. He hadn’t had athingto eat for three days. Today he was determined to kill an animal worth eating. The lion’s heavy mane gave him a look of maj¬ esty as his powerful forelegs pawed the ground. Suddenly, the watchful lion spotted an animal chewing grass not too far away. Its black and white stripes dis¬ tinctly showed it as being a zebra. Slowly the lion stalked towards his prey. He did not want to lose a prize like this, so he would have to be careful. The distance between the hunter and his prey became smaller and smaller as the hungry beast walked with slow, stiff strides through the tall grass. There were now twenty feet between the two animals. The zebra suddenly spied the lion and started running. The chase was on! With easy strides the lionbegantogainon the fright¬ ened zebra. They dashed on through the open plain. The lion could hardlywaitforthelastvictorious pounce. The zebra was going at a remarkable speed and it took a long time before he began to slowdown. In his des¬ peration, the lion continued chasing the zebra. Finally the lion made a great dash and leapt forward. Roaring furiously, he landed on top of the frantic zebra. The lion bit into the zebra’s neck and brought him down. Panting, the victorious beast stood over his victim. Much later, the Eon, having finished his meal, set out for the journey back to his den, refreshed and renewed. The sun was slowly setting and the lionknew he would not make it before nightfall. He did not worry in the least. No one could harm the king of beasts, for he alone was the hunter of the wild. Stephan Krueger 7EW. 79

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OUR CENTENNIAL YEAR As the new year dawns, so cold and clear Our country begins her centennial year. From coast to coast as projects unfold, Canada’s proud history will be told and retold. Explorers came here, a long time ago, To build this new land was their goal. These men would be proud and happy and gay If our great modern country they could see today. In the city and schools enthusiasm is keen To show, past and present, the Canadian scene. Fathers of Confederation, in pageant, share fame With the excitement of Expo and the Pan-Am Games. Tourists will come from homes near and far, By plane, by train, by ship and by car, To join us as we celebrate and shout aloud: Canada’s a country of which we are proud. ” David Searle 7 EW A TRIBUTE TO THE SCHOONER, NORMAN GRAY” It was the schooner Norman Gray” That sailed upon the stormy sea Just as a gale was blowing up Seven miles from the light of Chesterlee. And the waves grew large and larger still. Seven miles from the lighthouse hill. As the waves hit the deck with a shattering force, Four sailors fell into the drink, And, as the boat hit the Norman Reef, Norman Gray began to sink. All this happened out at sea, Seven miles from Chesterlee. Cling on ye cowards, grasp the mast!” The waves high as hills, the rain pouring fast. I go down with my ship,” said the captain downcast. As the ship went down, not long did he last. Next day, I’m told the cowards were found. Hanged from the mast. All had been drowned. So this is the tale of the Norman Gray” Who came to such a tragic end at sea, While caught in a gale by the Norman Reef Just seven miles from Chesterlee. And of captain and crew all numbered round, Not a single live person has ever been found. Alan Bennett. Grade 6 THE RAILWAY DISASTER The giant locomotive roared down the glistening steel track. The pride of the nation, the General Grant, as this gigantic black monsterwas called, was carrying nine¬ teen car-loads of joyful passengers on a trans-continental journey. The laughing brook beside the track rolled away to the sea, perhaps knowing that in several hours those laughing people would not be so gay. Approaching a town now, the General Grant slowly ground itswaytoastop,totakeon more fuel and water. The local railway attendants filled the mighty engine to its greatest capacity with fuel, while the foreman talked to the engineer. Recent floods, he told the engineer, had weakened the supports of the bridge across the mighty Whitefish River, and so he advised him not to go on until the bridge could be strengthened. The engineer laughed defiantly, and said that his engine could go over any bridge, weak or strong, big or small. The foreman sadly shook his head as the train pulled out of the station and rapidly became a small, black speck in the distance. As the train neared the Whitefish River, the engineer chuckled, and brought the General Grantuptoher high¬ est speed. The fireman stood in a corner of the ' cock¬ pit’ and looked frantically at the oncoming bridge. He too had heard of the bridge’sweakness. The old engin¬ eer laughed and turned his attention to the controls. Now the train was on the bridge, speeding across the river. They were at the midway point, and now al¬ most across, when a deadly crack” sounded across the river valley, and a support buckled. Now another and another great wooden beam crashed intothe river’s dark brown waters, and the bridge sagged, groaned and col¬ lapsed. The train stood suspended in mid-air for a split second, trying in vain to reach the far shore, and then plunged to its death in the cool waters a hundred feet below. A scream was heard, and then ... no more, for the General Grant, its foolish engineer, and the nine¬ teen car-loads of once merry people, lay buried in the mud at the bottom of the Whitefish River, surrounded by the timbers of the bridge which had taken them to their death. And the brook beside the track laughed on its way to the sea. Bill Annett. 7 EW. 78

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MONKEYS LOOSE ! I am a zoo monkey. Two weeks ago I had a strange adventure. It happened like this. One misty afternoon I was peacefully enjoying a nap, when suddenly my friend, Clyde, said Hey, Harry, IVe found the key to the cage. Let’s open it and run away!” I agreed, and so quiedy Clyde opened our cage. We silently crept out of thezooand into the city. We found a building, with an opening at the top. Clyde climbed up to open the door and I followed. What a sight met our eyes! There were some men, sliding on ice, hitting a black ball with sticks, and therewere some men caught in a net at each end of the ice. Hey Clyde,” I said. We’d better get out of here. Somebody might see us. ” But Clyde didn ' t want to, so I decided to stay. We were beginning to enjoy ourselves when someoneyelled, Look at the monkeys!”. Two policemen ran across the ice and began climbing towards us. Clyde and I ran, dodging the policemen. By thistimethe noise had reached all over town. Clyde, what a funny place! I didn’t know people were so dumb. ” Finally we gave them the slip. We wandered around the streets until we saw a bakery and decided to raid it. Clyde went through the door first and I followed. We ran over to the cakes. I slipped on some icing and slid into the cakes. A stack of pies fell on us. Clyde and I raced for the door and ran down the street, little knowing that we were headingforthepolicemen. When the police encircled us and picked us up we didn’t struggle. We wanted to get back to our cage away from everyone. Now I have told you about my adventures, I can have a peaceful nap. Kevin Annett Grade 5. A SNOWSTORM. The night is dark, the air is cold. The wind comes up with force untold; The clouds come over, the storm begins, The air is filled with stinging pins. The storm is wild, its fury unleashed, It seems like it will never cease; The snow is whirling all about. It stings your face, lashing out. Each day the storm grows less and less And soon begins to come to rest; The clouds scud over until we find, The storm is over with the coming of Springtime. James Hutchison. Grade 6. THE BAD PART OF TOWN. In any city large enough to be put on a map there is sure to be a place called the other side of the tracks”. In our town there is such a place. Even in broad daylight this community is gloomy and depressing. The cracked sidewalks, the rusted picket fences, the squeaking gates which nobody oils because nobody cares, the dwellings, once fashionable homes for prominent men and women, now toppling over with sag¬ ging door and window frames, badly in need of paint and adorned with chimney pots which belch forth thick black soot from the ancient coal furnaces, and here or there a tree never more than twenty feet tall and, more likely than not, dead, do little tomakethe appearance of the district any better. But maybe the thing that separates this part of town from any other is its people. The children, foolish and ignorant, play in the middle of the road with littlerespectfor any oncoming traffic. The women in cheap discarded blue jeans scream for the children to get off the road, if they can spare the time. The men loungearound in dirty undershirts, more often than not with bottle in hand, not knowing where next month’s rent is coming from — and not really car¬ ing. There is an unpleasant odour of smoke and soot mixed together with something that smells like decaying matter. It is not a pleasant walk when someone strolls through this part of town during the day. It is not a pleasantwalk during the night either. The comparatively gloomy atmosphere is gone and in its place is a flood of neon. In front of every pub and tav¬ ern there’s some drunken Indian and some unfortunate constable. There is also a large crowd watching the of¬ ficer trying to subdue theyoung man. They stand there, jeering and shouting at the desperate policeman. There are usually large groups of people gathering just out¬ side the various movie-houses which boast pictures at least five years old. Some small groups of teenagers meet at the coffee houses to discuss their plans for the evening. Most of the time their plans will land them back into the juvenile courts. But it is a real shame that these people should be forced to live under these conditions. Nobody cares about nobody but themselves. They are content to live in the grime and filth, barely able to ecist on the small weekly allowance they receive. Mark Milne. 7EW. 80