Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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until the golfer stops for a breath, then, seizing his opportunity, he plunges into the tale of how he himself, on his new five tube set, has heard music from England. This bores the golfer as much as his conversation has bored the radio lover, and finally they part, and go in search of a more sym- pathetic listener. The radio fiend is a trial to the hostess m another way. In a room where the guests have begun to dance, this pest spies a radio. Immediately, down he sits and begins turning dials, ex ' plaining meanwhile, to all who will listen, that his own radio is connected more correctly and that conse quently his radio receives from a greater distance. Radios may be endured in the winter, but they should be put away with the winter furs, and not taken to the country. Few things could be more incompatible with the peace and stillness of a summer night than the noises of static, sounding like the shrieks of the enraged demons of the air. The atmosphere in the summer is not as clear as that of winter and consequently the music is not so good. In spite of my lack of interest, I must, nevertheless, admit that the radio is very useful, and has brought variety into the lives of many. People in the country, away from all opportunities of hearing concerts, have derived much pleasure from the radio. Invalids also have been able to take much more interest in the outside world since they have had radios installed in their homes. Radios have been the instruments to bring help many times to ships in trouble, and in my opinion a ship is the most suitable place for a radio. Margaret Murray, Form Upper VI. Southern Seas THE tropical moon is shining on the water and the soft warm breezes are whispering of mystic music in a land of song, of beauty undescribed by poet or bard. I feel a strange spell creeping over me, a sweet forgetfulness of all my cares. Am I dreaming? Surely no real ship sails a sea as calm as this. No, this is reality more glorious than any dream. I have been on this ship sailing the blue Pacific for seven days, and tomorrow at dawn I shall land in Honolulu, the largest city on those eight little islands which have been called the Paradise of the Pacific. I spent that night many years ago, and now I am going to tell you of many things I saw and learned in the Hawaiian Islands. During some hour of that night we passed the island of Molokai, where the famous Leper Settlement is situated. The next morning we rounded Diamond Head the mountain which overshadows Honolulu, and sailed into Pearl Harbour. Here we threw nickels to the little Hawaiian boys who dived deep into the water bringing them up in their mouths. From the dock we took a taxi to the Young Hotel. Honolulu is situated on the Island of Oahu, the third largest island in the group. It is a very large modern city, with concrete roads, many hotels, a Carnegie library, one of the most famous aquariums in the world, beautiful buildings, clubs, golf courses and splendid schools. The schools were started years ago by the missionaries who went out from the New England States. It seems somewhat peculiar that the early Californians preferred sending their children to Hawaii to be educated rather than back east. But Honolulu is not the only beautiful spot in the Islands. The first day we went in swimming at Waikiki Beach, where we saw the Hawaiians ridmg on their surfboards. The water was so warm that I did not experience a shock on plunging in, as I always do in our cold northern lakes. Waikiki IS a perfect beach. The waves roll slowly in over the yellow sand carrying the surf riders steadily towards the shore. The water is so shallow that one is able to walk out nearly a quarter of a mile. There is no danger of an undertow or of sharks as the beach is surrounded by a coral reef. The next day we motored around the island and saw the Pali, a gap in the Koolan Mountain Range. An iron railing has been constructed here to keep people from being blown over by the wind, which sometimes whirls so fiercely at this point that it overturns cars. After spending two days on Oahu we took the night boat to Hawaii. Hawaii is the largest island, being only slightly smaller than the State of Connecticut, and is situated at the southeastern end of the group. It is the newest island, its formation not yet being completed. There are I 20]}

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the radio! and run off to play with the new electric train that Dad had brought home. For it is with very little interest, if any, that the modern child regards these marvels of inventions with which the twentieth century is endowed — chiefly, because, he has never been without them and takes them naturally as a matter of course. The radio, however, is still in its infancy and thus attracts more attention than other equally important inventions. Well — as I said before, I sat back with satisfaction to listen to one of Wagner ' s masterpieces, and as the strains of the well-known opera drew to a close, I murmured for about the hundredth time, Why, this is as good as being in the theatre! In fact, in some ways it is better, because in the place of sitting in a stiff hard-backed chair all evening, I can enjoy the music in a comfortable arm-chair before the fire, with a novel and a box of chocolates by my side, and a perfect right to shut off the music without appearing rude, if it happens to become boring. At this moment the orchestra finished with a grand flourish and silence reigned. I was almost beginning to applaud from force of habit, when a deep bass voice announced with the peculiar intonation affected by radio announcers, that I was Hstening to the orchestra from the mam dining- room of the Chateau Laurier, Ottawa, Canada. The next number on our programme, the voice continued, will be Rossini ' s famous overture to the opera ' William Tell ' . Hurrah! I shouted, my favorite overture! and in a minute I was hearing once more the joyous trample of horses ' feet and the sweet silvery tones of the shepherd ' s pipe on the hills. When this was finished, the station announced that they were signing off for an hour and requested their hearers to stand by till the next performance. I switched the dials around, however, and in a second the lively strains of the latest jazz came floating through the air from New York. After half-an-hour of this I tuned in on local and just caught the announcer giving the score of the night ' s hockey game. As the side I was in favor of had won, this was pleasant news indeed, and saved me telephoning the Forum for half-an- hour, vainly trying to find out the result. Moving the dials slightly, I found myself listening to a lecture on dressmaking, which, al- though instructive, failed to arouse my interest for the moment, and I moved on to the next station. This proved to be a concert given by a negro quartette whose rich, mellow voices singing the old spiritual songs, trembled with the note of sadness which characterizes all negro singing. After listening to this with delight for some time I tuned in again on local, and heard with rapture a violin solo played by a celebrated French artist. At the close of this selection the correct time was given by the courtesy of Mappin and Webb, and I found with dismay that it was long past my bedtime. shutting off the radio with reluctance I yawned myself to bed, feeling that I had had a most enjoyable evening with just myself and the radio. Dorothy Ward, Form Upper VI. Radio Reflections — Continued Another Point of View THE radio, ever since its introduction into the home several years ago, has roused many feelings, good, bad, and indifferent. Few people, however, have remained entirely indifferent either through incHnation or environmen t. I myself have not remained indifferent, but my feelings towards the radio are not entirely those of interest and enthusiasm. Interest in the radio cools swiftly, when all one ' s neighbours insist upon explaining how they got music from Miami or Chicago, and inquire jealously, whether anyone else has heard music from station WKAZ or YXDM. When working, nothing could be more annoying than to hear very bad voices, interrupted by static. For the last few years, the golf fiend, who once held full sway on the club verandah, has had to fight for his place against the radio fiend. Nothing could be more unpleasant to the principal characters, or more amusing to distant onlookers, than a golf fiend and a radio fiend, who, having just been introduced by the hostess, are obliged to make conversation. The golf fiend explains exactly how he made a difficult hole in one, and he relates in detail all the clever strokes he has ever made. During this recital the radio fiend looks bored and unhappy, or if he is very polite he sometimes smiles weakly and shows faint interest. Usually, however, he only waits f 19I

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two mountains on it, Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. Kilauea, the only active volcano, is on the side of Mauna Loa. About every seven years the top of this mountain breaks out and streams of red ' hot lava flow down on one side into the sea. On its last eruption it emitted so much of this boiling rock that an extension of over a quarter of a mile was added to the island. We sailed into Hilo Bay at dawn. The sun was shining on the snow ' Capped Mauna Kea in such a way that the mountain looked like a red ' hot stove. On docking, we were met by friends who drove us to their glorious tropical home built just on the crest of a hill overlooking the bay. I spent the morning wandering through the garden learning the names of all the strange fruits and magnificent flowers. The two fruits that I found the most delicious were the mango and waterlemon. The next day we motored thirty miles through the luxurious tropical woods up the mountain to the Volcano House, a fine hotel, where we had dinner. In the afternoon we went over to the crater. After we left the motor we walked about half a mile over the rough black lava before we came to the Lake of Fire. We had a picnic supper of sandwiches and coffee heated over a sul- phur crack in the lava. Then we sat on the edge of the crater and watched it change from day light to dark. I cannot describe the strange emotions which sw ept over me as I sat watching this boiling red liquid swishing around below me and bursting up into fountains nearly forty feet high — but I decided to try to be a very good little girl after that. But my visit to Hawaii came to an end as do all thrilling adventures, and one evening I found myself down at the dock ready to sail for San Francisco. The old Hawaiian women were there selling leis and I had so many of those wreaths of flowers around my neck that I could scarcely breathe. All aboard, came the shout, and I was hurried up the gang plank with the other passengers. The boat pulled out just as the sun set on the western horizon. The Hawaiians were playing their ukuelalas and singmg Aloha Oe, but I was fast being carried from them and their voices were dying away in the distance with — One fond embrace before we now depart; until we meet again. Elizabeth Field Laughton, Form Upper V. A Lone Wolf Out on the prairies a lone wolf howled Mournfully at the sky. And far away among distant hills Echoed that sorrowful cry. Lower and lower in the sky Was sinking the pale white moon, The bright stars vanished, for the light Of dawn was coming soon. The grey wolf rose and moved away, A flitting dusky shape. Silently he loped along. Back to his waiting mate. Clouds were drifting o ' er the sky, And the night wind whistled on, Far away an owlet cried, But the lone grey wolf was gone. Joan Archibald, Form IIIa. fill