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

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. E- - ZZ pense. Augustus and his mother were invited to the wedding, but declined the invitation on the pretext that all that glitters is not gold. That night they succeeded in winding six large balls of wool before retiring to bed. But Tom lived happily ever after and ate square meals for the rest of his life. Moral: Never trust a woman who quotes prov- erbs. She's just trying to pull the wool over your eyes. Ann Jennings, Grade XI. Winner of the Senior Story Competition fTied wilb fame Gfrld.lif07Z6D THE WINDOW Adele stood waiting in the doorway of the office building. The street was deserted save for an old man shuffling toward her. Adele watched him as he came closer. He looked so old and tired-bent like a branch of the oak tree that had been in Adele's back yard for as long as she could remember. She wondered vaguely who he was and what he was doing out on such a cold night. Then she remembered how cold she her- self was, and shivered involuntarily. . . . My but the buses were slow . . . The man was closer now and she could see his features more closely. He wasn't as old as she had first suspected, but so very tired looking. He was stopping now in front of the hardware store a little way down the street. He was looking at something inside the window which Adele could not see-probably a lawn mower, a set of power tools, or something equally uninspiring. It was funny the number of people she had seen stop at that very window, just during the time she had been waiting there too . . . Adele stamped her feet to keep them warm. A gust of wind swirled along the street picking up a piece of newspaper that had been lying on the pavement. It would settle for a moment, then be picked up again and carried still further by a new gust. Even in her relatively sheltered spot, Adele could feel the bite ofthe wind. How much colder that poor man must be! She turned her head to look at him again, Ending that thinking about him kept her mind off the cold. He was still standing there looking in the store window. His 'hands were clasped behind his back in what Adele imagined was a very characteristic gesture . . . Would that bus never come? . . . A streetcar rumbled up from the opposite direction. It stopped almost directly opposite the hardware, but the man never turned around. Square patches of light were cast on the snow from the streetcar windows. Adele thought how warm the passengers must be inside. Soon it started up again and passed from sight. The man had never moved. Then, watching a neon sign across the street blink on and off, on and off, helped pass the time. Finally Adele sighted her bus coming along the street. She started walking briskly down the street to the bus stop. By now she was frankly curious as to what was in the window. She slowed down as she neared the hardware so that she would be able to have a good look in the window. From her position all she could see was some drapery and a large piece of white cardboard. But as she drew closer, she suddenly knew why that man had stood so long, oblivious of the weather, just to gaze in the window. It was all too clear. On the cardboard was a picture of His Majesty, King George VI. jane Gladstone, Grade XI. Winner of Senior Short Story Competition CTM!! 10216 A7271 femzingrj THE GRADE NINE BAND One memorable day the Grade Nines gathered in the classroom to discuss the new project-a band. We all tried to think of instruments we might be able to play, and Elaine Protheroe was chosen to be musical director and conductor. The string section was represented by Carol Nixon, Pat Benham, Carol MacAulay and Suzanne Flood who played guitars or ukeleles. The wind instruments were played by the following musicians: Dawna and Diana played the first and second clarinetsg Eirene the flute, Martha played a miniature type of bagpipe and Gail Brooking attempted to play the trumpet-when it workedg this was the only instrument that could be heard above the din. The tambourines, drums, cymbals, triangles and woody things which gave the band rhythm, were nobly played by other energetic volunteers. Honor tried to play the piano besides attempting to transpose the music to fit Gail's flat trumpet. So did Dawna, Diana, Carol Nixon and Elaine Protheroe. In fact the instruments all seemed to be in different keys and the first few weeks were spent in straightening this confusion. Miss Bore- ham supplied us with the music and gave up her Friday noons to lend a helping hand. The first piece attempted was God Save the Queenu and when Gail hit the right notes, a listener might be able to put them together and make out the tune. Despite the noisy Friday noons we all hope the band will progress in future years' Honor Bonnycastle, Grade IX.

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23 - A PROVERBIAL FAIRY TALE Once upon a time, in the days when countries weren't overrun by oil derricks and mining engi- neers, there lived two brothers named Tom and Augustus. They lived in a little white cottage in the middle of a big green valley at the foot of a bigger green mountain surmounted by a perfect monstrosity of a huge grey castle on the top of which flew a great flapping black flag with strange yellow stripes on it. About the castle and its mysterious black flag we will hear later, but at the moment we must turn our attention to Tom and Augustus, who are obviously going to be the heroes of our story. Now these two brothers lived with their mother in the little white cottage, tending the flocks and cutting wood by day and sitting and listening to their mother talk by night. As for their mother, she spent the day either sitting outside in the little garden knitting and wishing she were inside by the fire where it was warm, or sitting inside by the fire knitting and wishing she were outside in the little garden where is was cool. If the broth- ers were hungry, they opened a can of beans. Every evening after Tom and Augustus had fin- ished their dayls work and their beans, they would take turns helping their mother wind wool to knit socks which she never finished because she was forever dropping stitches or ripping it all out and starting over again. As they sat and wound wool, their mother would carry on a ceaseless flow of chatter-complaints, stories with morals, village gossip and any other little pleasantries which came to her mind. And when she could think of nothing more to say, she would quote proverbs by the score. Her favourites were, All that glitters is not gold and Money is the root of all evil. These she repeated day in and day out, hoping to impress them firmly in her sons' minds for possible future reference. But there was one dif- ference between the two brothers which warrants mention: Augustus enjoyed this sort of thing and Tom did not. Good, dutiful Augustus hung on his motherls every word and took it to heart, while wicked, worthless Tom would have liked nothing better than to break her poor old wool or stand over 'her with a rod and force her to cook a meal. Fie on Tom! One day when the two brothers were out tending their sheep, an old man in a black cloak with yellow stripes on it suddenly appeared from nowhere in particular and asked if he might have some of their bread and cheese lunch as he had travelled a long way and was quite famished. When he saw that Augustus hesitated somewhat, the old man said in a pitifully wavering voice that if they would give him one little bread and cheese snack, they would soon be rewarded by many more sumptuous repasts, not to mention X f FAQ. fxf' V - I stacks of gold coins. Augustus imediately said, Ah, but a bird in the handls worth two in the bush. Besides, money is the root of all evil, and he trotted off into a corner of the pasture and began to eat his lunch. However, the foolish Tom took pity on the old man and gave him all his lunch, even the large piece of chocolate cake that had been meant for his dessert. When the old man had finished eating and brushed away the crumbs from his cloak, he stood up, saying, And now for the reward. And lo and behold, throwing back his black cloak with the yellow stripes, he stepped forth and revealed himself as a tall and noble prince in a gold brocade tunic, and embroidered on the front was a black ensign with yellow stripes, just like the one flying above the great grey castle! Tom would have fallen to his knees such was his surprise and humiliation, but the tall prince said, Never mind, old chap, I know just how you feel. And now really I must tell you. I was once the master of that castle up there, but a wizard came and put me under a spell which could not be broken until someone did me one favour. Not much chance of that looking the way I did, eh? But now all -this will have killed that annoying old wizard, so we can go up and free my sister, the beautiful princess who has been imprisoned up there all this time. You can marry her if you like. But come on, let's hurry up or we'll be late for the feast! And with that the prince seized Tom's hand and pulling the dazed fellow after him joyously, ran all the way up the mountain and in the front door of the castle, leaving Aug- ustus imperturbably munching a hunk of his mother's strongest rat-trap brand in the corner of the pasture. The next day Tom was married to the beautiful princess amid great gaiety, razzle-dazzle, and ex-

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30 PEOPLE WE COULD DO WITHOUT The rpeerh of the bO7ZOIIl'c7Z7l? Sir Henry jewel- mozzger, f1o'o'rei1recl fo the citizens of Speyef, ozz ihe omzisiozz of fha! 7l0ltZl7lEyJ lar! viii! fo tha! fozwz. I think that I need have no fear about the disagreement or agreement of the general public with my decision. Radio commercials must go. And to rid the world of these unmitigated annoyances, we must first rid it of those who are responsible for them. Now please don't misunder- stand me. I don't wish to rid the world of all advertising. I am not so unjust as all that. I am quite aware that to have any sort of business you must advertise. I would never have reached my present estimable position in the shoe-lace manu- facturing business, if I had not advertised. So . . . by all means clutter up our newspapers and maga- zines with advertisements, taking up space that could be used to so much greater advantage, destroy, or at least hide, the scenery of one of the most beautiful countries in the world with bill- boards, if you must, but for the love of heaven, leave radio and television alone. I will never forget one tragic day. I was sitting listening to the dramatic speech of my good friend and colleague, Sir Omar Williamson, on the radio, when he was rudely cut off the air, in order that the eagerly waiting listening audience might be informed, to their eternal joy, that Bee-Bee-Dol Tablets, which cured all ills, mental or physical, could be bought at your nearest druggift for only 79 cents Ceach, that isj. Then there was a pause, I suppose in which to run -nstairs and dig into the large stock of Bee-Bee- Dol Tablets which you quite naturally had on hand. After everyone had had time to settle down to a long ecstatic suck, they switched Sir Omar back on. I was just in time to hear his farewell-to life, as it turned out. He committed suicide the next day. CSuch an ignoble end for such a noble man.j I maintain from that day to this that the cause of his untimely death was the shock of having his own flawless eloquence spurned for the sake of Bee-Bee-Dol Tablets. I learned later that his was the most soul-stirring talk on the sin of parking on other peoplels parking meter time that has been heard before or since. And I could recount to you many more instan- ces of positively criminal stupidity on the part of the radio executive. But, then, I suppose I must admit that it's not their fault. They are paid to do it and so they must. Ah, the avaricious ten- dencies of the world today! It makes me ashamed to be part of such a mercenary humanity! But . . . I have thought of a plan. It stands to reason that if no one writes commercials, then no one can them, What could be simpler than making the writing of commercials an outlawed profession? My good friends, I am hereg I ask but little, I want not fame nor fortuneg I want only your good wishes, and perhaps a slightly more substantial evidence of the same, to speed me on my way in this Crusade for the Benefit of Humankind which I am about to make my life's work. Think of it! The freedom to listen straight through a program with no interruptions. Never again to reach the crucial point in a tense drama, only to be told that - Nothing keeps Duffy's. Never again to be in the middle of a stirring interlude of music only to have Mary tell Sue the telephone number of the Patriotic Salvage Corps. Truly a dream to drive a man to great deeds! How to finance the programs, if I succeed? That is just one of the small details which I must work out before my plan is completed, but I work with a light heart, for I know I have the good wishes of all you wonderful people with me, Au revoir, and many thanks for your hearty reception of my dream. EPILOGUE: Amid ezzfhzuifzfzir fzpplfzufe and a ishower of form, Sir Henry bowed himself from the Hoge. Affer collecting the money he wan heard .of no more. The people of Speyer Jtill wonder why lhe11z peyhy roffzmercialifmf' Jtill plfzgffe fhelr poor, hefzzddled liver. Pat Benham, Grade IX. DEATH A Babe, a King Are victims of its grasp. What is this thing That comes in silence, Wearing a mantle of Eternity: A mantle that terminates All warmth, all life? This is death. Joey Adamson. read them, and therefore, no one has to listen to Senior Photography Winner, Hono1'Bonnycastle, IX. ,, -