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

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lO fi g ' ' A ff ll .: 6 L I TE R RY fa ,Q-ilk FR MSA-I -I, . -1- Mary Ross Hallowe'en Apples The door opened, and a gaily- dressed horde poured out into the street. Cowboys, princes, gypsies, tramps, witches and ghosts, all carrying large paper bags or pillow casesga party of chil- dren bound on the traditional Halloween canvass for apples. They filed along the street, chattering noisily. They came to a stop beneath the first street-light, where their leader, a black-haired, blue-jeaned cow- boy suggested to them: Lets divide up and each group do one side of the street. tMurmurs of approvalj O.K. then, half of you go with Janie, and half with me. We've got until nine-thirty. VUhere'll we meet? asked Janie, a gaily- dressed gypsy. Oh-uh- at the apartment block on the Drive. Get there about quarter after nine, so we'll have time to get home. O.K. The gang straggled off, dividing roughly in half. The group headed by the cowboy started down the left-hand side of the street. Stopping at each house, they grouped around the door and ltollered lustily: I-lallowe'en Appuules! They clutched in their hands pieces of chalk or soap, to make good their threats of Trick or Treat! Their chalk and soap remained for the most part unused. Besides apples, they were given suckers, fudge by a little old lady, oranges by a young couple with a squalling baby, and one man, apolo- gizing for having nothing else to give them, poured pennies into their bags, saving his property from chalky or soapy defacement. They were not al- ways so fortunate, for at some houses their calls went unanswered. Hey, Paul, yelled a black-faced, red-haired, young negro to the leader, Let's go over a few streets to Crescent Boulevard. We oughta get something there - the people are so rich. Yeah! Lets go! Well, O.K. We've got just enough time, if we hurry. With a shout, they raced off, their panting breaths making little steamy clouds in front of them. Heres a huge place! Wow! We ought to really get something here. Brring. Brring. Mrs. Burns put her book down, sighed, and start- ed apprehensively to the door with Bobo, the cocker spaniel, padding silently along behind. She could hear the shouts of Halloween Apples as she put her hand to the door. The cowboy, Paul, stood on the door-step, grin- ning up at her expectantly. His confederates moved a little closer. Trick or treat, lady. I - I'm so sorry, she stammered softly. The outraged shouts of the children made her pause, before closing the door. Aw, gee whiz! Aw, lady, be a sport!

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9 ifaf OUR PREFECTS LEFT-Nora Anne Richards, Glen Murray, Joan Malaher, Ann Jennings lseatedb. RIGHT-Louise Albertsen, Ann Carroll, Joan Davidson lseatedl. The Thanksgiving Service Our annual service of Thanksgiving was held on Friday morning, October 10th, in the Assembly Hall. In addition to staff and girls, several mothers of prefects were present, as these girls were to receive their cords of office during the service. As each girl entered, she presented a toy or gift to be sent as Christmas presents to European children through the Canada Save the Children Fund. After the service had begun with the singing of Prayer of Thanksgivingf' Miss Murrell-Wright addressed us on the subject of thankfulness, say- ing how very much we at Balmoral Hall have to be thankful for, and adding that we can best show our appreciation of this by giving to others, our toys for the underprivileged children that morning were a good example of this appreciation. After a Thanksgiving prayer in which the School joined in the responses, there was a brief ceremony in which the prefects received their cords of office. Witli a closing prayer and the singing of A Thanksgiving Hymn, this service ended. Ann Jennings, Grade XII. Presentation of Cords Until October 10 our prefects, who had earlier been named, wore no symbol of oliice. In pre- vious years the Head Girl, Games Captain, House Heads and Prefects of Balmoral Hall received during the first school term, their gold and green prefects' cords. And so this year, as a part of our Thanksgiving Service, cords were given to Nora Anne Richards, Glen Murray, joan Malaher, Joan Davidson, Ann Jennings, Louise Albertsen and Ann Carroll. Miss Murrell - Wright spoke to us about our responsibilities and asked each girl to think of our prefects who had been especially chosen to carry much of that responsibility. After the prefects had received their cords the special hymn, O jesus I have promised, was sung. Dawna Duncan, Grade X.

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ll Can't you give us anything, lady? No. I'm sorry. O.K. The leader turned. Let's go. Mrs. Burns shut the door after them softly. She leaned against the door, as everything began to swim before her eyes. ........ . Suddenly Freddy was standing in the room again, skinny little dark-haired Freddy, looking up at her through his long, dark lashes-pleading. Mom, why can't I? Spike and the other guys are going out for apples. Can't I go? Please? Quickly she thought of ways and means to dis- suade him. Wouldn't you rather have a party, instead? she asked, her mind racing to see how she could carry through the plan on such short notice. Spike and the other boys could come here. You could have hot dogs and pop, play games, and then go to the movies. Wouldn't you rather do that, Freddy? For a moment the boy appeared to be swayed. Then, with a stubborn set to his jaw, so like his fathers, he declared: That wouldn't be half as much fun as going out for apples. Spike said we could have super fun. Besides, - a happy thought occurred to him I could have a party like that for my birthday. She tried to argue with him, but finally gave in. When she saw his joy as he got into his cowboy regalia, she felt a little ashamed for trying to dampen his enthusiasm. Remember, Freddy, be careful. Watch the lights when you cross the Drive, and be back by eight. O.K., Mom. She remembered the twinkle in his eyes, as he and Spike and the other guys had come to the door a half -hour later. Trick or treat, Mom, he had grinned. She remembered how nervous she had grown as the time went by. Eight o'clock, eight-thirty, nine -then she began to phone the neighbours. No, we haven't seen Freddy. Our own boy hasn't come in yet, as a matter of fact. The door-bell rang. When she answered it, a beefy, red-faced policeman confronted her. Mrs, Burns? There's been an accident. I'm awfully sorry, but your little boy has been killed. An accident-your little boy-so little-it could not be-he's only six-so little-Hallowe'en-a year ago-oh Freddy! Freddy! ...... She began to sob, quietly. The spaniel whim- pered softly, in sympathy. Hey, Paul, let's really give her the treatment! Nn-no. He remembered the sad, hurt look in her eyes. We've got to get home now. Senior Literary Competition Eifffne Landon, Prize Slory Grads? X- Awake! You lie here as if in a dream, Oblivious, while others scheme. You see not the decay, nor smell The stink of rotg and while you dwell In grandeur, in magnificence- The thieves you pay to rule your land Perform dark deeds of violence. While saying, It is the Kings command! Conniving tongues link your royal name To countless tales of horrible shame And if your subjects dare to groan, They blame it all upon the throne. Once still, the sea is calm no more - But ripples of discontent are stirred And fanned to waves you yet ignore- And still their moaning is unheard. Q Gaze at your work and dismay! Through your neglect, they must decay. Awake! Atone for your great sin, Erase the crime that dwells within Our land! Cast out the evil men That plot destruction-death! And then From this welter shall arise An empire stretching to the skies. Not buried in greed and hate and lust, Or tied by false, unequal laws, Her people shall dwell with love, and trust, And work toward a common cause. Awake, before it is too late- Cast out the schemes and jealous hate! Hope then shall be a brighter gleam- Utopia - a truer dream. Nora Anne Richards Grade XI Senior Lifeiziry Compelifioii Prize Poem Room - Mates What else comes in all sizes, All shapes and all disguises? Dispositions sweet and sour, Laughing, crying, every hour. Nothing else could be so sweet, Nothing else so much could eat. Bad moods, good moods every day Depending on both work and play. Sylvia Pierce Grade X