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

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I8 Room Inspection 'Twas the night of inspection And all in the Bunk Room Were busy and bustling To clean up their junk room. Their dressers are tidy, Their cupboards are spotless In hope that their mistress Would not think them thoughtless. The twins were all ready, Doreen had just finished While Nancy as usual Found time quite diminished. Then up the long stairs Climbs their brave Headmistress, She's headed this way For a shock and much distress. When what to her wondering Eyes should appear As she opens the door And around it does peer? She finds her dear boarders- Oh she's so much surprised- Why, they're all in their beds- Not at all as surmised. Why Diana, why Dawna, Why Nancy and Doreen, The room is so tidy, The cupboard so clean. They've all been good children, She bids them Sleep tight, Now girls, no more talking, Lights out, and Good-night! Doreen Nichol, Grade X. Places I Should Like to Visit Not long ago I was asked what I would do if I were suddenly left a fortune by a rich and doting aunt. I immediately replied, without even having to think, Why, I should go to England, of course! I didn't have to think about my reply because all that had been done before, in fact, I have been thinking constantly about it for nearly as long as I can remember. Perhaps my great longing and affection for the British Isles began when I went to live there at the age of one and one half. One and one half is an impressionable age, and although few people besides my parents will seriously believe me, I remember a surprising amount about that period in my life. I can remember the boat, the grey sea all around us, and the terrifying noise made by the bugler in white uniform calling us to lunch. QI think that was his motive.j I remember lying on my back in a cot and gazing at the ceiling, supposedly being sea-sick, although I am told by my mother that I weathered the storm consider- ably better than my father. I also remember run- ning about on the decks and I have a faint recol- lection of some rather rowdy singers to whom, I am told, I made several uncomplimentary remarks. All this I long to do again. In London I remember our flat, the paved court- yard outside, and walks in Regents Park. We lived across the road from one end of it in a place called Rossmore Court, and every morning Mummy and I went to play on the swings and in the sand- pile, to feed the birds by the pond, or to go for a boat ride, fit seems to me the rowboats were yellow and red stripedj. Occasionally my father took me canoeing in order to show off his Canadian woodsman's skill in paddling, to the onlooking English, but they never seemed to learn. One of my clearest memories is that of the statue of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. I remember the pond beside it too, chiefly because I had a friend named Robin who fell in and emerged with pollywogs and weeds all over his trousers. I remember all sorts of other things as well- Hampstead Heath, the green grocer - but I am digressing. This attachment of mine to England and things English has been kept up all through my long life by various forces: English friends, horses and riding Qproperly, not in Western tackj, English films, Beatrix Potter, Rudyard Kipling, trifie, Shakespeare, the Royal Family, influence of ances- tors, etcetera, etcetera, until now I can hardly bear to be here, and not there. I have decided that the simplest and quickest way of making the crossing would be by tramp steamer or cattle boat, and I hear that wages are pretty fair. Having arrived, I would first make a con- centrated tour of Scotland and Ireland, making sure of missing no village or hamlet. Having satis- fied myself on that score, I would return to Lon- don, explore it thoroughly, and then set up head- quarters there from which I would branch out in all directions, one at a time, and investigate the sur- rounding countryside. On the way I would choose for myself a smallish farm in a district where there was hunting, and retire there at the conclusion of my travels with a couple of thoroughbred, or per- haps Anglo-Arab hunters. Perhaps I should not say conclusion, because my travels would con- tinue till I was familiar with every stone, wood, inn, birthplace and street in England, in the Brit- :sn Isles, and even after that. And then I would begin on Paris. Oh, for a rich fand dotingj aunt! Ann Jennings, Grade XII.

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I9 What's In A Book? I have often thought, Ever since I was three, What's in a book? - Would it interest me? People have asked me, Why don't you look Behind the covers- Explore a book? And then one day When I was bored I found a box, Where books were stored. As I opened that box I never dreamt What I'd find in those books, Or what they meant. Now, often, you'll find me In corners or nooks Contented - exploring The land of books. janet Davis, ' Grade IX. Izzlermedifzle Lileimjf Competifiozz Prize Poem Whither ? It was the tenth of june. Tomorrow we were leaving on our summer vacation and the house was in a horrible turmoil of trunks, clothes and clean- ing women. Yes, it was hard to believe. We were really leaving at last. But where were we going? Nobody but Dad knew-not even Mother. For the past two months we had been racking our brains trying to think of some different place to go. Our thoughts didn't coincide, though, and we all wanted to go somewhere different. joey wanted to go to the mountains, Dad to South America, Mom to the lake resort to which we went last year, and I just wanted to travel anywhere. I like travelling because I am so proud of our little home town and when- ever anybody asks where I live I like to answer right out and watch their puzzled faces. But to get back to the story, nobody could decide, and so Dad went down to the travel bureau and had a long talk with the man. When he came home joey and I jumped with glee at the smirk on his face. We knew he had decided. Where are we going, Daddy, where? joey shouted the moment Dad came in the door. Well, I've been thinking it over, son, and I think l'1l keep it a surprise. You just wait and see. Now the time was almost here. Mom had packed enough clothes for a three-month vacation. Warm clothes, cool clothes - and we were all prepared. Mom and I went downtown on a shopping spree. I was going to buy a coat and a bathing suit. I found just what I wanted, we bought a few other things and then we separated. When I got out to the car I saw Mom had bought a lot more things but when I questioned her I was again kept in suspense. Well, curiosity killed the cat, and I surely didn't want to die yet, and so I held my peace and did not ask any more questions. That night we were all sitting in the den after dinner talking about what was ahead of us. Dad informed us we were going by car and I was satis- fied. My mind was full of guesses as to where we might be going but of course I couldn't be sure. Tomorrow would tell. I went to bed at nine o'c1ock. We were to get up at seven and I wanted to be bright and wide awake to face the unknown. My dreams, I'm sure, were very fine, but unfortunately I was so tired I fell right asleep and can't remember whether I dreamt or not. The morning dawned bright and beautiful. I woke with a start at the alarm. joey and I were so excited that we had to force our breakfast down. Mom seemed perfectly calm. Dad was a little ex- cited, though. The car was packed, the water heater turned off and the house locked. We are ready to leave. I don't know what is ahead, but whatever it is, I am ready and I know I shall enjoy it. Susan Moore, Grade IX. Intermediate Lilemfy Compefifimz Prize Story. Dieting At Balmoral Every few days in every term Some boarder decides to lose weight, It catches her like a measle germ And meagre's the food on her plate. No bread or potatoes, salt or fat, The housemothers watch with despair, She wants her stomach so nice and Hat, And a waist with a Hollywood air. But then comes the vision of fluffy, whipped cream Or chocolates or candy or pie, She says, Well, just one, with eyes all agleam, And we say, It was a good try! Brenda Dougall. Grade VIII.