Balmoral Hall School - Optima Anni Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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- L-- L? OVERHEARD IN A BALMORAL LOCKER It was seven-thirty in the morning. This was a most dreaded time for the occupants of Locker No. Blank. For at this hour the handle of the locker door began to juggle up and down to awaken them. The shorts turned over sleepily and the gym socks tried very hard to get out of the running shoes. The old shorts muttered to the socks to get back where they belonged and promptly went to sleep. At two minutes to nine the owner of Locker No. Blank came dashing in. The old shorts groaned as a heavy metal lunch pail was thrown on top of them. The hook felt a little unsteady as a heavy coat, a blazer, a play costume, and a green balaclava were flung on to it in a matter of sec- onds. Rubbers landed on the running shoes and rudely awakened them. Angry words followed but these the student didn't hear. She was on her way, taking the stairs three at a time. Peace was restored when the blue dancing tunic finally cooled down the ruflied laces of the running shoes. The coat began to tell of its ex- ploits at a party the night before. The green balaclava questioned the truth of some of the coat's statements and a prize fight began. After about half an hour of this, during which all those who possibly could, had climbed to the top shelf of the locker to be out of danger's way, a bell rang. Much noise followed outside the locker. The door suddenly opened. The lunch pail squeaked as it was quickly grabbed, and opened, its contents were speedily demolished. Then it was thrust back and the gym equipment was yanked out, and put on. In went the tunic, and the door once more was slammed shut. Between this time and noon hour, the tunic told all that had happened in the class-room during the morn- ing. That's all you can talk about, yelled the lunch box. Now you've hurt my feelings. I can tell when I'm not appreciated, sobbed the tunic, and the door opened and the student, just as if she had heard all, came and rescued the tunic. Locker No. Blank was just like Grand Central Station. Everyone always seemed to be coming and going. Now in came the gym equipment and out went the lunch box. The gym equipment was nearly in tears, for the student had let herself take one breath and the fastener on the shorts had burst. The lunch box came back empty and hungry. And what happened that afternoon? Well, a small, insignificant bottle of ink at the back of the shelf was jealous of the attention the coat was getting so it removed its cap . . . ah, but the details are too sad to relate. ELAINE PROTHEROE, Grade VIII. DICTIONARY-ITIS I am one of many fortunate people who enjoy consulting the dictionary. I love to start from the A's and progress from there. Although I may get to the word I want quite soon, it is very un- likely, for I am a person who starts out on the right track but gets distracted by other words. Last Wednesday, I was delighted to find that I needed the help of a dictionary. I was looking for the word sincere . I knew the meaning of the word but I wanted to find out from what lan- guage it was derived. Glancing through the A's I saw the word abracadabra . I took a second glance and found that it was a mystical word-a word worn on an amulet to ward off disease. Having found that I was getting nowhere, I decided to hurry on and I skipped to G which was a considerable leap, before I was attracted by the word gargoyle . I gave that up as soon as the explanation contained too many big words. Be- cause time was getting short, I thought that maybe if I made a game of some sort, it would keep my mind on the right path. I turned to the S's and invented a game of seeing how many words I could recognize. This went on until I was sud- denly stirred by finding the word I was looking for in the first place. After finding that it was derived from both French and Latin, I closed the book. SUZANNE FLOOD, Grade VIII. Gail: Miss Hawkes, what is the difference between well and good ? Miss Hawkes: I have noticed that the only time you are good is when you're not well. TERESA THAIN, Grade X North.

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UL s A BOARDER'S UTOPIA This is the story of a dream that I had before I entered a boarding school. Before you become a boarder, you must have had a dream of what it would be like to be one. Well, the dream is over for me now, so I don't suppose it will hurt if I tell you what I once dreamt. I'll start with the bedrooms. I dreamt of walking down a long carpeted hall past doors upon doors until I came to Room 13-my lucky number! This, said the house mother, is to be shared by you and another girl. I pushed open the door, and there was a lovely room! It con- tained twin beds with matching dressers, two desks, book shelves, a radio, a record player, and two big arm chairs. Off the room was a tiny, private bath. In an alcove over by the big bay windows, was a piano. I was so pleased with my room that I could scarcely wait to see what the rest of the school would be like. just then a pre- fect came in and offered to help me unpack and then we proceeded on a tour of the school. The prefect took me down the long hall up which I had previously walked so shakily, and then down a flight of stairs into another hall. I was led into the cafeteria dining-room. On the other side of the hall was a canteen. The prefect then took me outside to the boarders' chief delight, a swimming pool. After I had seen the grounds, the prefect asked me in to the canteen to have a coke. There she told me what we could do. This is what she said. The weekends are from Friday at four o'clock until Monday at nine o'clock. We can go out three nights a week on special dates until eleven o'clock. The lights may be put out anytime before twelve o'clock. We are allowed to wear slacks to the cafeteria and in or on leaving the school, if desired. Last of all, there are no bells buzzing. I asked her how we could possibly know when to get up, and when to eat. The prefect replied, A record player playing jive music does the trick. It makes us hopf' If you plan to be a boarder, please do not expect all these things. After all, it was only a dream of a Boarder's Utopia. BETTIE MAE TOWNSEND, Grade X North. AN ATTEMPT Oh dear! Oh dear! I've racked my brain, To write a poem, but all in vain. I think that I shall never be A famous name in poetry. I've used my brain to no avail, I'd better find some words or fail. The line's too short, should be extended, I think it's time this poem ended. p And so the rhymes I leave to you, And bid you all a fair adieu. LORNA CRAIG, Grade X North. A THRILLING TRIP We reached the wicket, and purchased our tickets. The dumpy little man at the gate tore them in two, and handed us our stubs. My heart was beating wildly and my knees were very wobbly, but I knew I must go through with it now. I glanced about, and seeing all my fellow passengers heading in a group towards the circular machine, I took my friend's hand and dragged her towards the place of our doom. We found our places, and firmly settled ourselves. The little man threw a quick glance our way, and smiled reassuringly. We began to move, slowly at first, and then a little more quickly. Soon we were zooming around at an uncanny speed. Our ears felt funny, and our bodies felt oddly light. I suppose we were far away then, because I began to hear strange music, which grew louder. All about me I saw strange blotches of colour. Soon, to my immeasurable relief, we began to slow down. Several small children had started to cry, and my stomach felt oddly unsettled. The coloured blotches began to take the shape of people, and the haunting music grew softer. Gradually we came to a stop, and I was never so glad to set my feet on the ground in all my life. I looked about at my fellow travellers, and saw a variety of ex- pressions on their faces. Most of them were slightly green. I walked unsteadily towards the gate, feeling a little sorry that my journey was over. Ah well, we can have another ride on the merry-go-round tomorrow. JOAN DAVIDSON, Grade IX.

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20W g g ggggg rg HONG KONG As I woke up that morning, everything seemed the same as it had been for the last few days. I scrambled down from the top bunk-there were twelve bunks plus two babies' cribs, a washbasin and a table and our luggage in a cabin, the dimen- sions of which were about twelve by twelve. I might add, that the bunks were in three layers. I got up and pulled on my clothes. The breakfast bell clanged and we went in and took our meal. After that, I went up on deck. As I walked about, enjoying the fresh air, and loving the roll of the ship, I overheard someone say that we would reach Hong Kong today. I became terribly excited and ran to tell everyone I knew, The hours passed and then, on the horizon could be seen a bluish cloud that seemed to hang above the ocean. It came nearer and nearer. Soon the shapes could be seen. There was a hilly island and then the mainland. I-long Kong was the island and it was about a mile from the mainland. Tug boats came out to meet us, and our ship shrilled a greeting. By this time everyone was on deck, waiting, watch- ing. The boat was pulled in to the pier. Ware- houses towering above it seemed almost to be falling into the water, old and weather-beaten as they were. Then began the fuss and bother of the shore passes. That over, we went to bed. I woke up the next morning with the feeling that there was something unusual in the air. The cabin was sway- ing. We were standing still. It all came back to me-we were standing still, docked at the harbour of I-long Kong, and, today we would go ashore. After a hasty breakfast, we walked or rather ran, down the gang-plank onto Chinese soil. The idea was that we would go to the mainland by ferry, and see the sights there. We could explore I-long Kong the next day, as we were staying there three days. According to our friends, we would be obliged to get camphor wood chests. Our special friend knew of someone who made them. As we walked the streets, I looked very carefully at the feet of all the Chinese girls, and to my great disappointment, none of them were bound. We passed shop windows where beautiful objects were displayed. In one window I saw an extremely pretty fan, which I had to buy. I was prepared for an argument, but to my surprise I was allowed to buy it. Chinese money is in dollars, although their dollars are of much lower value. At last we got to the chest makers After exam- ining the chests, we decided on three. Mummy, Bill and I were to have one each. Bills and mine were to be early Christmas presents. I chose one heavily carved with Chinese figures. On the side of the box, the carving showed a Chinaman pull- ing a rickshaw, while the top of the box displayed a festival scene. On the borders were deeply carved roses. Mine cost twenty dollars-a robbery there, but to us a bargain, as at home the value would probably be five times as much. Camphor wood has a beautiful scent. The next day we decided to explore Hong Kong, as yesterday we had explored Kowloon. We donned topies and sun glasses since it had been quite hot the day before. Hong Kong is quite a small island, the middle part being a hill. To get to the top you go up on elevator trains. Going up, the scenery is beautiful, but when you get to the top, it is breathtaking, for you can see for miles. We took pictures of course, for who is found in a foreign country without his camera? There we enjoyed the view while we waited for the next train down. That night, we left Hong Kong to continue our journey, and I wondered, as one does when one leaves a country, if I should ever see Hong Kong again. JOAN SHEPPARD, Grade X North. HOMEWORK Why do they give us homework? Why must we slave all night From four o'clock to ten o'clock- To make wrong answers right? Why must we ruin eyesight Burning the midnight oil? When we could do so many things Without this care and toil. Life's not a bed of roses, There's good to take with the bad. And if we don't do homework now- One day we'll wish we had. GAIL MACDONALD, Grade X North.