Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

Page 20 text:

suppress the nervousness mounting in her. At last sJie couhl see the cotta};;e, and as she drew near her father ' s angry voice rang out ahove the roar of the falls. Then he appeared, and at the sight of his face Anne ' s determination left her. She could not approach him now, not now or ever she thought, and yet she must do something. And as she stood concealed from the river bank watching her father climh into the hoat his back to her, she saw a bent little man creep up behind him, cast off the painter, and dart back into the woods. The oars were on the bank, and the warning scream which rose to Anne ' s lips was a mere whisper. The little boat swerved madly and swung towards the falls, her father ' s arms waved wildly as he fought to keep his balance. Anne stared, unable to shut her eyes as the boat dipped and swayed, and plunged over the rushing torrent, out of sight. Barbara Ward, Form Matric I. FROST ON THE WINDOW-PANE Stenciled on the window-pane Patterns white and fair Silently they formed last night In the midnight air. Lacy and so beautiful They seem to all our eyes As we note the figures rare And the shapes of every size. No human hand could fashion Or could mould those shapes so fair God formed them silently last night Out of the midnight air. Allana Reid, Form IIIb. A SQUARE DANCE THE village of La Minerve, Quebec, was wide awake to-night, there was going to be a veille at Willie ' s. Willie Simon, a charming middle-aged halfbreed, had a house in a strategic point in the village, opposite the post office and next to the general store. To-night people came flocking into his tiny house. He himself had built this crude square building with its sloping roof; inside, downstairs, were two combined rooniK, ihe kitchen and sitting room, and a large bedroom and dining room. Al llic moment, all llie guests were clustered in the kitchen and one could smell the fresl) hron( laid on a side board; near the bread stood a large barrel of water. For a goo«l lialf hour while llie guests were arriving, stories were told, mostly tongue twisters and yarns. Finally, when about fifty peo|)le wore all 8quashe l into the little room — [18]

Page 19 text:

taken place that afternoon, rushed over her. Every movement, every word was clear in her mind. She saw the anger on her father ' s face and the stranjje expression that had come into his eyes, almost the expression of a madman, when she had let herself go and said what had been brewing within her ever since last winter, when she had come back from the visit at her aunt ' s, where for the first time in her life she had been really happy; and where she had met Bob Robertson. She had told her father that she was going to marry Bob; that she had spent thirteen years in the same house, never meeting any young people, never going to parties, never doing anything that young people did, keeping house for her father, and for enjoyment paddling up and down the river by herself. She started to tremble violently as she thought of her final words, Why do you treat me like this? I ' m your own daughter! if you ' re trying to break me as you did m--! The terrible silence that had followed her father ' s angry Anne! , in which she realised what she had said, had terrified her, and she had stvimbled from the room, hardly noticing the bent, little figure of the old man standing just outside the door, who watched her with a dog-like expression of silent devotion and sympathy. Whose eyes, when they turned to the room in which her father was, blazed with hatred. As she watched his slow progress up the path, Anne found herself wondering about him, and at a time like ' this, she thought. She knew that he had been with the Watson paper-mills for thirty years, thirty years and he was still earning barely enough to make a living; and yet people said that he worshipped J. P. Watson and would do anything for him. Anne herself had seen the way he followed her father around and seemed devoted to him, and she could remember that ever since she was a child, he had watched her as carefully as if she had been his daughter. Like the time when he had pulled her out of the river when her canoe had upset. A funny little man, who never voiced his opinions but always listened to everything, his quick black eyes, which he could veil at a moment ' s notice, never missing anything. She wondered how he could like her father after the day she had seen him strike the little man and knock him down; and after all the times that her father stormed and swore at him for some- thing that was not his fault. Only the housekeeper, Mrs. Philips had said, He don ' t love J. P. like he makes out. The next day dawned bright and hot, and Anne rising from the bed where she had thrown herself the night before without bothering to undress, stared at herself in the mirror with a determined expression, as she tidied her hair. She had decided whether her father gave his consent or not she would marry Bob, though her heart pounded rapidly at the thought of going through another such scene. When she went downstairs Mrs. Philips informed her that her father had gone down the river O so angry , and that somebody was in for it. After gulping down a cup of steaming coffee, Anne left the house in the direction of the mills. Walking quickly, and repeating over and over again what she was going to say, she soon reached the town. Her father, she was told, had gone farther down the river to Higgins ' the last house before the waterfalls. Anne followed, vainly trying to [17]

Page 21 text:

it was a mystery to find how they all packed in — they began to go into the next room where all was cleared for the occasion, and the large bed, in which were two wide eyed little Indian boys, was pushed aside. Willie and one of his brothers then brought out their fiddles. Now the square dance had started, the men chose their partners and the fiddlers began their playing. Old and young joined in the dance, they turned and they spvin, round and round to the com- mands of the master of ceremonies, Elzear Simon, another of Willie ' s brothers. On they went, faster and faster as the fiddlers played. This is called swingay , in fact the whole entertainment is called either swingay or veille , swingay , somehow, seems to describe it better, and convey what type of entertainment to expect. In the middle of the swingay there was quite a delightful solo dance, performed by Elzear, the caller. It was an odd mixture of tap dancing and acrobatics; in the middle of tapping he would suddenly sommersault, jump up in the air and land in a ball, or bang his knees, elbows, then head, on the floor. Meanwhile the people gathered round him in awe and admiration, they all knew the steps well and knew when to expect his surprising antics. After he had been well applauded the dancing went on. Sharp at twelve the dancing stopped and fresh buttered bread and cold water was handed to all. Then slowly and reluctantly the people began to leave. The French Canadians are very polite; they thanked Willie and his wife cordially and did not outstay their time. At last they had all left. The air in the two rooms was blue with smoke and smelt of the strong shag tobacco so popular among these people. The two little fellows in the bed were sound asleep, and the fiddles lay worn and shaken after their long usage. Thus ended a happy evening in the life of a French Canadian. The customs, the lives and the simple entertainment of these people are things to be treasured and kept, through the years to come. Faith Lyman, Form Upper Vi. THE TEACHER ASKED THE GIRL {with apologies to A. A. Milne) The teacher asked The girl, and The girl asked Her neighbour: Could we have the answer for Is Alexander dead? The girl asked The neighbour. The neighbour Answered, Certainly, I ' ll look at The book Now. And ducked down the head. The neighbour She smiled. And turned and told Another girl: Can ' t find the answer for Is Alexander dead? The other girl [19]