St Michaels University School - Black Red and Blue Yearbook (Victoria, British Columbia Canada)

Page 15 text:

THE LEAFS The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it But in another country. as he said, Bore a bright golden flower: QMilton's Comusj Filius patrie loquitur: Father, if you could lift that cup, I don't see why I shouldnt: I'll try to keep the record up, Though there are some that couldn't Anderson 'sometimes bowls in reach Of Gillies at the wicket: Though Wallis flviacl is hard to teach The rudiments of cricket. Cockeram bats like Aberhart: But I have hopes of Carle: With eclat Morgan's wont to start If rather too much parley. Stephenson I and II and Cave And Collett, Talbot, Bailey Perhaps some day a run will save While Chopper cheers them gaily. That is the lot except for me And I am wholly wrapt in The skipper's job: and so you see I make a priceless captain. -ili-,llfli RADIO We were asked by C-lVI, the local Station, to send five boys to represent the School on a Quiz Programme against St. Louis' Col' lege. The following boys were selected: McNicol, Cupples, Bailey, Kitson, and Wade I. I Those who remained at the School were allowed half an hour off Prep to listen to the contest. The questions were very mixed: some hard and some easy, and on all sorts of subjects. The School obtained an early lead and it looked as though we would win, but Fate stepped in on the last question but one, and St. Louis drew level. We missed the last question and thereby lost by one point. However, the losers received a dollar each for their pains and went back to School hoping to be invited to compete again at some other time. H. IW. 13

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THE DAY AFTER It had been a night of terror with explosions rocking the ground and brilliant flashes lighting up the sky: even the very air smelt of sulphur and destruction. Hell had reigned supreme. Now, everything was still, terribly so-we almost missed the concussions that had been rumbling for the greater part of the night. The stillness was quite uncanny. Stiff and cold we crawled up from our shelter, a mere hole in the ground with boards and dirt on top, and looked out. Daylight was breaking. A heavy bank of fog, or was it smoke, hung like a great pall over our beloved city. Here and there angry folds of dull' red were weaving and curling, an odd streak of vivid flame stabbed the masses of billowing cloud, while now and then a heavy thud or splitting crack would make us feel that the demons were loathe to leave us. Appalled at the mightiness of it all, we stood and gazed dumb' founded. The smoke curled up to heaven: it stretched for miles: columns of it, black, yellow and even green. It blotted out the distant hills, the old familiar landmarks, and defiantly tried to delay the dawning of another day. Curious and anxious to see the worst, we found ourselves being irresistably drawn towards the scene of destruction. Slowly at first and then hurriedly we crossed a field, reached the road and in silence half walked, half ran towards it all. The smoke grew thicker: little groups of men, women and children, choking, limping, halffdazed it seemed, passed us: some were scantily clad with a hastily snatched scarf over their heads, while others, less fortunate, wore bloodstained handkerchiefs wrapped round arm or head. Ambulances, a police car, several army trucks laden with hagf gard parents and crying children, private cars with smashed windows or roofs torn off, crawled past, swelling the stream of homeless humanity. Here and there were to be seen signs of last night's visif tation: broken branches, a telephone pole leaning drunkenly to one side, its wires a jumbled mess, a roofless house, the remains of a piano straddling the sidewalk, and ever the swelling stream of injured. Billowing waves of acrid, foul smoke came rolling towards us: it was painful to see, difficult to breathe and useless to try and pick our way over debris, with this ever growing crowd. And then above the hum and clatter could be heard the wailing call of a firefengine. It was coming our way-fast! It was almost upon us! Frenzied cries! Shrieks for help! Another second and?a shrill bell sounded in my ear. -I awoke!QHow I blessed that Chink Bell!! -A Contribution from the Shell Room. 12

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X THE RER CUP This year the Cup was awarded to Geoffrey Donald Corry. Despite the fact that there were at least three boys in the School of Ker Cup calihre, the Masters were unanimous in their selection. Corry came to the School in September 1938. He matriculated last june, and this year sat for his Senior Matriculation. During his time at School Corry has participated in every activity, has always heen a keen contestant although perhaps not always a winner. This year he was Captain of the Rughy XV, a Prefeet, School Boxing Champion. winner of the Cross Country Run, a member of 14