Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

Page 32 text:

' 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.

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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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Conductors Prefer Men Scene — Six o ' clock rush in a street car. Conductor — Windserr — Peel! Pill — Windsorr! Push opp in de front please, planty of room in front. Pardon, madam, you have drop a parcel. Mrs. Henpeck — Good heavens, its the pie! Be careful! don ' t move, little boy or you ' ll — oops — Oh, I just known it ' s all sp oilt. That ' s the worst of these street cars they let them get so jammed that you can ' t move and then they — Conductor — Watch out for de door! Fn avant, please. Mrs. Henpeck — For good ' ness sake, conductor, use your head. Do you mean to say you ' re gomg to try and let any more people on this car? There ' s far too many now. You ought to be reported for allowing so many people on a single car. Conductor — ' Scuse me, Leddy, but would you mind to pay your fare and go inside; you have not yet give me no transfer nor no ticket. Mrs. Henpeck — Don ' t be ridiculous ! I gave you my trans- fer as soon as I got on, and now you ' re accusing an honest lady of getting on a car and not pay ing her fare. Conductor — Waal, if you don ' mind, madam, you drop your puddin ' as soon as you have get on, and you have been telling me all de rest of de time dat de Tramway company is run bad, and you have not give yourself de chance to take your transfer from sticking out your purse there. . Mrs. Henpeck — That! Why that ' s been there all day, but if you want it to add to your collection, for goodness sake take it — but I can ' t drop my parcels to hand it to you. (Twenty seconds of injured silence). Conductor — Mountain Street! — de la Montagne! Tickets, please — opp in de fron ' , s ' il vous plait. Hey! boy, your pass! What, you haven ' t got no pass, waal I can ' t give you no green tickets, you know you should a have a pass or use yallow tickets. Mrs. Henpeck — Why must he have a pass? He ' s only young. I can tell by his looks — Why he isn ' t more than fourteen. He ' s got a perfect right to green tickets. My daughter, eighteen, uses them. Conductor — I ' m verra sorry, m ' am, but I can ' t let a big boy like dat git green tickets widout to have a pass. Mrs. Henpeck — Absurd ! but I don ' t suppose I can make you — but it seems to me you con- ductors just think you can do anything at all and just run everybody in the whole car, and etc., etc., ad infinitum. Conductor — Fort street! Fort —