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

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A HOLIDAY AT WISCONSIN DELLS In my summer holidays my mother and father took me down to the Wisconsin Dells where we spent one of the nicest week-ends we have ever had. The hotel we stayed in was on the river and I could look out of my window and see the boats going up and down. We sailed on many boats. We took the ride in the Upper Dells in the morn- ing and in the Lower Dells in the afternoon. When we came back from the Lower Dells, my mother and I wanted to go on the speed boats, and so my father took us. In the evening there was an Indian ceremony at Stand Rock. We had our dinner and then we went down to get on the boat called the Winne- bago, which is a very large boat. The boat left about seven-thirty and it took about thirty minutes to go to Stand Rock. When we arrived, an Indian chief was standing up on a high rock giving an Indian welcome call, and Chief Evergreen Tree stood at the front of the boat and gave the call back to him. The ceremony started about eight-thirty. There were many benches on the rocky hills for the many people arriving by boat and by car. There were Indians from all over the country. There were tents high up on the rock with bright lights burn- ing. In the doorway of one of them sat an Indian girl in white. She looked lovely. The master of ceremonies was a white man. He stood on a rocky platform, Chief Evergreen Tree was very good and could mimic almost anything. On the way back, we sang songs, and while singing one of the songs, he was mimicking an Indian love call. Chief Evergreen Tree was writ- ing his autograph under his picture which they were selling on the boat. Wisconsin Dells is a very small city and on Sunday it was like Saturday night here. We had a nice time at the Dells. JOAN ANDERSON, Grade VIII. TACKS The first day of school opened, and there was Tacks. He was sitting in his usual seat in front of the teacher. Tacks was in Grade IX. He was by no means a dull lad, although he bore a striking resemblance to Mortimer Snerd. ggg g g ,gg 25 A clumsier more awkward boy Miss Brown had never seen. Tacks was six feet two inches tall. His clothes hung on him like clothes on a scarecrow. His hair, eluding his best efforts and hair grease, stood like a scrub brush with stiff bristles of uneven length. Tacks was a good-natured boy, brimming over with mischief. All the kids liked him. They called him Tacks, though his real name was Els- worth Tacksby. One day, Miss Brown, the teacher, was cor- recting some papers when a murmur crossed from one side of the room to the other. She looked up to see Tacks shove something into his desk. An investigation brought out a white rat, Tacks' most lox ed pet. He was told to keep it at home. A few weeks later, Miss Brown was reading The Ancient Mariner to the class. - Oh, sleep, it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole . . Zyn uh zyb , came from in front of Miss Brown. She looked up from the book and over her glasses. All the class were attentive, listening with fascination to the poem. All, that is, except Tacks. He had his head on his hand and was placidly sleeping and snoring. Miss Brown hadn't realized she had such mystic powers. The last day of school, Tacks loped into the classroom. He was more awkward than ever that morning, and it appeared he was trying to hide something. He took his seat. All day Miss Brown felt uneasy. She kept looking for white rats, mousetraps in her drawer, tacks on her chair, and other examples of prac- tical jokes. The day passed uneventfully. At four o'clock the room emptied very quickly. All had gone but Tacks. He pulled a parcel out of his desk, put it on Miss Brown's desk and with four big steps was out of the room. Under the neat covering of the parcel, Miss Brown found a copy of Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest . ANNIE LOU ORMISTON, Grade XI. END-OF-TERM HIGHLIGHTS Three guests attended Morning Prayers at Balmoral Hall on Thursday, May 31st, Mrs. D. E. S. Wishart, Chief Commissioner of Guides for Canada, Miss A. M. V. Rosseter and Mrs. H. Lount, all very important persons in the guide world. Mrs. Wishart gave a short talk to the School.

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24 THE BUN AND MILK ROOM The Bun and Milk Room? What a queer name! What is it? Where is it? just follow any grey-tuniced student and she'll lead the way. Fol- low her down the well-trodden stairway, through the locker rooms and the tunnel to the . . . Bun and Milk Room. Ah . . . there it is! Four walls lined with books that hold many secrets. Four walls that know everything that goes on within them. There is the tired old piano that stands bravely waiting for its next treatment of The Thing . The tables, the chairs, the books, the fireplace . . .everything reflects the comfy atmos- phere of this friendly room. The Bun and Milk Room has encouraged jitterbugs, pianists, Latin scholars, readers, Margot Fonteyns and stomach aches. Stomach aches? Yes, but wait, there's the recess bell. Let's watch. Doors are opening, teachers are giving instructions and now . . . the girls, hundreds of girls, big girls, little girls, short girls and tall girls all dash for their recess snack in the Bun and Milk Room. They tear down the stairs, through the locker rooms and push into line. One by one they move up to the table and take their lunch. Then Puddy sits down at the upright and pounds out the latest hit tunes while everyone gathers round for a sing-song. A few Charleston fans bounce about on the tiles in time to the music while acrobats practise new balances. This continues until the hand bell sends everyone hurrying up to the gymnasium. Noon hour rolls around and again, the con- venient Bun and Milk Room looks like the Grand Central Station filled with students, music makers, dancers and just resters. Later Latin classes are conducted within the famed room and then it is four and home time. I-Iowever, the room is not yet deserted. The book worms and the hobbyists linger to do their work in the quiet of the Bun and Milk Room . The boarders, also, spend many hours here. Yes, from early morning, when Alec checks the radiators till late at night when Mary dusts the last book, the Bun and Milk Room is a favourite spot. DAWNA DUNCAN, Grade VIII. Miss Sharman: Name a substance which will not freezef! Lois: I-lot water. CAPSIZING A CANOE There is a right way and a wrong way to tip a canoe. Did you ever wonder about this? There are several methods you can use in order to tip a canoe successfully. First of all, if you wish to plunge in near the dock, all you have to do is to get in and step far over to the side, and there you are swimming or struggling in the cool water. If you prefer another way, you can capsize your canoe by standing up in it, and rocking it. This is a sure way! But be careful not to let the canoe descend on your head when you fall in. jump out when you think the canoe is going to capsize! Still if you prefer more variety in this delicate affair, just paddle out to the lake nearest the rail- way station about train time, and make sure you are in the centre of the lake, all the boats will have to pass you there. Then when you see two or three or more speed boats coming, paddle calmly amongst them and then just quit paddling and prepare yourself for a dip. A few minutes after the boats have passed, the waves will start to rise, and then you will find yourself and your canoe caught in the midst of them! Of course, this is the most satisfactory way of tipping the canoe, because you haven't a chance to back out once the waves have come, and you have to struggle to get the canoe and yourself back to shore. If you are out in the lake, and there is merely one launch coming along and if at the same time, you feel like swimming, just take the waves sideways. This is a sure way and is similar to the method pre- viously described. It is not quite as effective how- ever. Of course, if you can, always go down a river where the current is strong or down some rapids or falls. This is in case you really don't want to get back to land again, for I doubt if you would, if you took such dangerous steps just to get a ducking by tipping a canoe! Take whichever way you like, I assure you they are all very effective and satisfying if you care for this sort of sport. I warn you beforehand, how- ever, to remove your watch and any jewellery, and to wear a bathing suit or shorts. Also I suggest that you learn to swim before you enter canoe- capsizing competitions. CARLA GUSTAFSON, Grade X North.

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26 wx STORY OF A WORM I am a worm. I am not a very special worm, not being extraordinarily long, or fat, or even grubby. I am just a worm. I have not had a very unusual or eventful life as worms' lives go. I have been almost stepped on once or twice and have had one very narrow escape from the beak of a large, fat robin. But these are not unusual occurrences for members of my race and clan. You may be wondering how it came to be that an uneducated worm should be writing his life story. Well, I will tell you. One night as I sat in my little home under a pebble, I heard a mighty crash! For a moment I thought the world had fallen in but, as soon as I realized that I was not in worm Heaven, I decided that the world must still be standing and I decided that I would go out and see what had really hap- pened. Hesitatingly I crawled out of my hidey-hole onto what seemed at first to be a large, white world. Then I saw some huge black things which looked like letters, and a picture or two. Of course, I know how to read having lived in a school-room for several months, and I keep in practice by reading the Wormly Weekly , a newspaper for worms. So I tried to make words out of the large letters. I climbed up on a flower stalk and began to read. The white thing I had thought to be a world was an old magazine someone had dropped, and the page was opened at the autobiography of a man, hailed everywhere as a great author. As I read, I had an idea. At first it was a very little idea but soon it had grown so big that it pushed every other thought from my mind. Why couldn't I write the story of my life? The very thought of seeing my name Wilfred Winterbottom Worm in print made me tingle with excitement. So, I took up my pen and began to write. And this story which CI hopej you have read, is the result of my first effort in writing. JUDY SPENCE, Grade IX. BALMORAL HALL We have a school that's new this year And many changes are quite near. A hundred years And buildings tall Will then denote Balmoral Hall. Oh, it will be a wonder school With ultra modern swimming pool, The biggest gym, And best equipped- No piece of apparatus skipped. A games' room full of things to do And everything kept bright and new- Three ping pong sets- While all the floor Is charted out for games galore. Outside the grounds laid out so neat Will occupy some thousand feet. The tennis courts In summer are The most important spots by far. Team games are played by nearly all- Lacrosse, and cricket, hockey, ball- In winter time We ski and skate For these two sports we highly rate. Now for the girls who want to work And from their duty dare not shirk, Whose conscience calls- They have to pass- We might find room for one small class DIANE FRASER Grade XI. O