Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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A BOOK It may be just a little book, To take that book, and open it, A little book, but then To find those worlds anew. There suddenly appears in me When seamen sailed the seven seas, A long forgotten yen And fairies swam in dew. My poem is not finished yet. My faithful reader, friend, A bad book ends where it begins, A good book has no end. RoNNE Heming, Form IIIa, Fairley House. WINTER SCENE THE SUN had been shining brightly over White Bear Lake. Now the day had faded to twilight, and the sun was sinking slowly behind a snow-covered mountain peak. The old fisherman stood silently on the ice, staring at the pale sunset, streaked with grey. Evening was approaching, and he realized that it would soon be too dark to fish. He sighed deeply, and shifted his stare to his fishing lines, trailing through the hole he had cut in the ice of the lake. Although he had fished since noon, his efforts were unrewarded. He stood motionless, and gazed at the bleak country around him. The mountains were covered with a thick blanket of snow, and the black, charred trunks of trees stood out sharply against the whiteness, a grim reminder of the forest fire which had swept through the mountains the previous year. Every- thing was silent and desolate. Animals no longer scampered through the forest, the birds no longer sang. Only the fish remained, unaffected by the fire. Today the old man had been unlucky. Tonight there would be nothing to eat. He sighed again as he thought of his wife, so thin and weak. A shadow seemed to pass across his face. Suddenly one of the slack lines tightened. His thin, drawn face became radiant with joy. He was now completely satisfied with the efforts he had made. He had received a great enough reward. Soon a sound of sleigh bells was heard, and a sleigh drawn by two strong horses came into sight. The fisherman ' s laughing grand-children ran down to help him. He climbed in thoughtfully, still silent. The children piled in happily, laughing and chattering excitedly, and drove the sleigh on. The sleigh was soon a small speck in the distance, and no trace of happiness and laughter remained around White Bear Lake. Diana Ardagh, Arts VI, Ross House. [22]

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CORYEDERON Given : An elegy by Milton — ' Lycidas ' To prove: Anyone can write like Milton. Proof: Written for a friend who failed an Algebra test. 0 weep, ye nymphites of the road and hiW And bow your heads, ye flours of the mill. For Jeanitheep was laid full low today And rains are falling over Mandalay Like to the tears that greatest Helyon shed When Symalon, the keeper of the dead. Claimed Menidee, the loveliest of her daughters, And from his chariot, o ' er the churning waters Spread the dry bones of lovis, her son. That the will of Adahortus might be done So all shall be brought low. What boots it, say . To struggle in a race day after day? A man will win but one — must lose the rest. Why run, because all honour is but dust After the race is past. Life is but short And joy still shorter. Hark! the loud report Of Hickok ' s gun recalls now to my mind, Unfortimately, Jeanitheep. Like Lind 1 wandered far in memory 0 weep Ye members of the race, for Jeanitheep, Who used to gambol gaily in the gym And in the locker room made such a din, Is down and out. But this is of the past. Hope is the future — as the goddess Crasst May help her, let us bring her incense rare, Such as Diutius offered Lea fair When his strong son became at last a man And from our hopeful Boarders madly ran ' . Thus sang the bebop artist, then the coin Dropped down, and all was silent once again . Q.E.D. Anne Begor, Form Vb, Gumming House. NOTES 1 reference to rival schools 5 popular Greek(?) hero 2 reference lo Montreal 6 apology for digression 3 old Greek legend 7 old Greek legend 4 digression 8 epilogue [21]

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A MAN God made him a man; Let him be a man. He is born, and fed, and clothed. And schooled. So let him be respected. And known to all as a man, and not as — A fool God gave him eyes that he might see, Let him see and also remember. God gave him limbs that he might move. Let him use these to defend His country, his nation, his world, his home. That he may save his people. God gave him a mind with which to learn, With this let him be wise. God gave him a heart so he could serve, Let him serve his Maker well. God gave him a soul to be a man. Let him achieve this honour! If he loves what is right, And what he believes, And follows his creeds as he should; Then as he dies, let no one weep. For he is worthy of being called — A Man. Laureen Hicks, Form Vb, Fairley House. TRANSPORTATION IN MONTREAL THERE ARE three types of buses in Montreal, the crowded bus, the empty bus, and the disappearing bus. All three types are equally dangerous, and require a different attitude on the part of the traveller. The crowded bus is perhaps the most common. It appears in droves around five o ' clock. Deceptively, it slows down as it approaches the stop where you are hopefully waiting — along with two hundred other people — then speeds up and passes by. If it does stop, all those lined up in front of you manage to squeeze on, but just as you are about to follow them, the driver cries, Next bus, mind the door! and the door practically scrapes the skin off your nose as it closes. By the way, this ' next bus ' is purely a figment of the driver ' s imagination. Finally, however, you manage to get onto a bus, but cannot sit down. The bus driver applies his brakes vigorously at every corner, and at least a dozen people lurch against you and step on your feet each time he does this. As a crowning touch, you will probably be carried beyond your destination as you fight to get to the door. To travel on this type of bus, you must be cool and collected. You must maintain an air of detachment from the mob as they fall around you, and learn to say offhande dly, So sorry, when you step on a leg, arm, or other impedimenta. It is always a good practice to carry an umbrella with a sharp, pointed end. The second type is the empty bus. This is more dangerous than the first type, because it lulls you into a false sense of security. It appears promptly and is a model of good behaviour until you step onto it. It is usually occupied by two small boys, a young mother with a baby, and an old lady. The trouble [23]