Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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A Chinese Junk Listless she lay in the broad lagoon, Moor ' d with idle sail; Quiet she waited the rising moon And evening gale. Long had she worked in the heat of day Plying her trade; Sluggishly pushing her weary way Through waters jade. Her hold was loaded with choicest spice And golden fruit; Her decks with baskets of whitest rice And licorice root. A low light wind from th; darkensd wast A change of tide; To toil again — she must leave her rest — Lest sea ' waves chide. On a crystal sea ' neath cloudless sky, She wends her way, A quaint reminder of days gone by. From old Cathay. Marjorie Miller, Form Upper VL Christmas Shopping MOST people fear Christmas shopping as an inevitable institution, and because they fear it, they feel that this unpleasant ordeal must use up as little space in their lives and be of as little trouble to them as possible. There are two ways of overcoming this difficulty. The first is summed up in the shopkeeper ' s advertising slogan, Shop early and avoid the rush. ' ' The second is manifested in a feeling prev ' alent among many people, that, Christmas isn ' t Christmas, without a bustle. The calm person, who objects to having the regular routine of life disturbed by anything drastic, chooses the former method. He sees Christmas on the horizon, and early in October makes out a list. This document being complete he goes systematically through it, buying a gift for each person named thereon, with the greatest amount of care and calmness. The gifts are delivered, the day arrives, and slips by happily, but with little variation from other days. Our early shopper then declares to himself that he is the coolest person in the world, and really enjoys the thought that not even Christmas shopping can disturb his equanimity. On the other hand, there are people who do not enjoy the sense of triumph over circum ' stances in this way. These people adopt the second attitude towards Christmas shopping — Christmas isn ' t Christmas without a bustle. They also see Christmas on the horizon, two months beforehand, and they watch weeks grow fewer and the shop windows grow more festive, with the grim determination that Christmas shopping shall not hurry them into action till they feel like it. Signs are then put up in all the stores, Eleven more shopping days to Christmas. The eleven days diminish to six, then five. At last a panic seizes them, they dash out — and keep on dashing till The Day arrives. With Christmas safely over for another year our procrastinators sit back and say to themselves, Well, at least it only took me four days this time. Such IS Christmas shopping! Anne Byers, Form Upper V. {29}

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Autumn in the Laurentians Morning Scarlet and yellow the trees stand out Against the autumn sky, Fluffy and careless the frolicking clouds Glide gaily by. And the blue ' green lakes like jewels lie, And the soft ' rippled lakes like jewels lie. Evening The merry breezes grown wild and strong Whitecap the sullen waves, And whistle in woods where long ago Lawless Indian braves, Hunted the fox and dwelt in the caves, Hunted the lynx and dwelt in the caves. Janet Cameron, Form IVa. The Old Man Speaks And so you want to fly now? So you do! All they can do is talk of flying now; Soon no one will be walking here on earth ! Up in the clouds ! That ' s no kind of a life ' . But you ' ll see more before you die, my son. For me — I am content now that I know That all man ' s deeds are but worthless trash; It is the man that counts and nothing else. Look at the boy that turned the trick last year! He left this side a boy, but the long day And weary night soon made a man of him. He ' s pure gold none the less. I know no dross That could endure the fires which he endured. And then they followed! Batches of them, fools! He had the glory! All they got was risk And some small meed of praise when they returned. And so you want to try, lad? Twenty, soon! How old you are! I hope you ' ll soon grow young! Ay, go and try, boy, ' tis a sport for youth ! But first, before you do it, think awhile. In everything there must be pioneers; In this there have been many, and their bones Disturb the lost Atlantis in its sleep. Nungesser, Coli, Hinchliffe, see they ' re gone; And the Old Glory sinking, sinking down, Through dim cold darkness, through the Atlantic waves. But it must be, there must be pioneers! They have attained to wealth undreamed by us, Those men who risked all for a moment ' s joy. Well, go then; try it; luck be with you, boy! And fly — while I — while I sit here, Battered and tired, worn by destroying time! Oh my lost youth ! Come back ! Come back to me ! And let me fly again as youth can fly . The sun is warm, the garden still and sweet. And while the brown bees hum, I am content. Annie Rowley, Form Upper VI.

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' Once Upon a Time ONCE upon a time — A feeling of expectancy creeps over the listener as he hears these words. Magic words! Like the discovery of a secret door! What hes beyond the door? Where does it lead? Through long passages, with ghosts and goblins, out to the fields, or down to the sea. Who knows? But why is the door there? Because someone imagined it; and that is Fairy Land! Fairy Land is always true, and always there, for anyone who will go to it. Once upon a time, almost expresses Eternity. The boisterous laughter of bathtime is over. The children are tucked in their beds. Two little brown curly heads rested on chubby hands. They lie on their tummies and gaze into the glowing fire with sleepy eyes. Mummy! Tell us a story — The children have always known where the door is. It will never be a surprise to them. They knew, only they are too little to open it by themselves. Mother draws up the big rocking chair, just made for telling stories and make believe, and all those things; m fact the nursery chair. Still the eyes gaze dreamily into the fire. Then mother begins, Once upon a time — . The two little heads turn to look at her, and the eyes grow big and round. The key has been turned, and the door is going to open! What will it be (o night; a new one, or one of those that they already know and love? Once upon a time — . What lies on the other side? Only the children know! Anne Byers, Form Upper V.