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

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8 1 fi fra r U E C' lxx, ASJ T A A.. ,..,f-'JI' wg g The Last Straw Silhouetted sharply against the dying sun, the man stood alone on the rise of ground, gazing at the parched land and withered crops. Then he turned and, with an air of hopelessness, walked back down the way he had come. The earth was so dry that every step made clouds of brown dust rise. He passed an old wagon, blended brown and black from rust and age, and nearly buried beneath the drifting soil. Further on lay the bleached bones ofa cow, picked clean by vultures, and polished to a high sheen by the wind and sun. Inside the gate a few scrawny hens stalked around the yard, scratching in vain for food-seeds or bits of grain left from the morning rations. A lean cow, her ribs showing through her hide, stood at the drinking trough which was caked in white from the strong, alkaline water. She mooed pitif fully, thrusting her once soft nose, now cracked from the dryness, in search of water. Then she nibbled hungrily at the dried weeds surrounding the base of the trough. The man gave a weary sigh as he mounted the creaking steps of the veranda and walked into the house. A layer of dust covered everything, even though an attempt at cleaning had been made that morning. He passed through into the kitchen where his wife was preparing supper. A large tin wash tub sat at one side of an old stove, about half full of water. Njake? Your supper's ready. You'd better wash. Wash? In what? he replied sarcastically. Can't use good water just to wash my hands . . . rather go dirty. Please, Jake! I know water is precious, but you don't have to use much . . . and mebbe . . . mebbe it'll rain . . . I saw nice black clouds just before sunset . . . mebbe they'll come this way. L'You know them clouds won't come this way! We haven't had rain for weeks an' it won't rain now . . . not when everythings ruined . . . crops burnt out, cattle afdyin' from thirst . . . Oh, God! Why did it have to happen when everything was going so well! Best crop we've had in years . . . could probably have made enough for all the things we wanted. QCIQQ. The woman, haggard and thin, looked at her husband silently. She thought of the beginning of the year . . . all the hopes for a really good crop . . . all that had been planned, the new radio . . . new curtains for the livingfroom, maybe even a new dress! Then, the wind. . .the tireless, unceasing wind, carrying everything, all hopes and plans, before it. Why had it happened? Why? Old memories darted through her mind . . . their arrival five years before . . . all the misfortune, the barn burning down, the fever leaving them without their three children, every year something happening to the crop . . . and still they were struggling against death with only a few dollars left. . . Would it ever end? Her thoughts were sharply interrupted by her husband. I'm going out to feed the animals. Where's their water? Ain't any left, she replied wearily. What? he exclaimed. But they gotta have water! . . . Well, if there's none left of theirs, we'll have to give them some of ours! We can last out for a day or two on what we've got, then I'll try and buy some more from the government man. A day . . . or two? she asked doubtfully. Yes. I did try today, but the supply was all gone. He'll be getting more the day after tof morrow . . . We'll just have to be more careful, that's all. He turned around fiercely and took up an old bucket from the back of the porch, filled it half full of water, then tramped out of doors. His wife sighed quietly and started clearing the table. Day dawned once more, and just as the sun started its relentless trip across the sky, the man came out of the lone weatherfbeaten farmfhouse. He headed for the rickety shelter at one side to feed the animals. As he passed by, he let the chickens out of the makeshift hen house. In the shelter he found their only cowidead. In the pen, one sow lay awkwardly on her side, grunting in pain, while the other cowered in the opposite corner. He examined the sick animal, fed the other, then returned to the house for breakfast. Before mounting the veranda, he went down, took a handful of dirt, crumbled it between his

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-f 'mm B H Balmoral Hall, june, 1958. My dear Girls, It is time now to Pack up your pencils in your old School bag And smile-smile4smile- but I have just a word to say as you set out for three months of comparative freedom. Recreation is a very necessary part of good living and if properly understood can, in three months, be an invaluable part of your life each summer during your school days. At the very beginning of your holiday you should have plans for this refcreating so that you will have something to show hy September. Most of you are still growing and the body needs a change from sitting in a desk to running in great open spaces. May you have many opportunities for such freedom. To keep pace with such activity the body will need to be well fed, and I can visualize the tremendous appetites that will gather around your family tables, and around campfires and at shore picnics. Refcreation of the mind is important too. At Iirst the mind will need a rest and then a change. Be sure that just as your body needs food so will your mind. Without mental stimulation you will End the days long, and some of you will soon be saying, What shall I do now? and towards the end of the Summer you will even be secretly glad that School will soon be calling you back. Food for the mind-here are some menus. Plan to learn something new-in swimming, diving, sailing, exploring, art, music, gardening, cooking or housekeeping. You can add to this list depending on your plans for this summer, but just remember that the mind will need food for its refcreation. It would be a good idea to include your Summer reading in this plan so that you enjoy at least one book each month and not leave four books for September. When I see you in the Fall I shall be interested to hear just what you taught yourself this Summer and how able you are to satisfy your own mind or how much you depend on entertainment that others create for you. A happy Summer to you all, and be sure, you who are graduating, that I shall look for several rows of Old Girls to wish us well as we set out for our New Year on September 10th. Affectionately yours,

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9 fingers, then looked up at the clear sky. He threw the remainder of the dirt distastefully to the ground, banged his heavy dustfcovered boots against the side of the steps, and went into the house muttering softly. His wife sat in the kitchen, her head in her hands, crying. As soon as she heard her husband, she hastily wiped her tears away on her dress. We're finished, she said. We can't stay here! The tub sprang a leak during the night and all the water's gone . . . not a drop left, not even for breakfast! Oh, God! That's the last straw . . . the last straw . . The sun sank slowly behind the deserted farm' house. Its rays cast ominous, eery shadows across the dusty plain, and the wind blew gently around the corner, bearing the drifting soil before it. SHBLAGH KELSBY, Grade XII Senior Literary Competition Prize Story One Diamond Earring Oh! There's the door hell, Andy! Willyou go down and see who it is? I'll be down in one minute. Andy and Flora Robertson were having a dinner party, and, as usual, Flora was not ready. Andy meekly went downstairs and greeted Murray Paxton. After twentyffive years of living with Flora, Andy did everything meekly when he was at home. Murray was a selffcentered individual who thought life had been cruel to him. He had divorced his wife the year before and had been regretting it ever since from the financial point of view. He was a writer and had sold a hundred copies of one of his eight books. Hello, Murray! So sorry I'm late, the usual last minute details, you know. Quite all right, Flora, we expect that now, don't we? Murray returned with a feeble laugh. just then the door bell announced Gladys Seyton, middlefaged, unmarried, and successful in the business world, She always made certain that everyone knew she was happy and had all she wanted from life. The last to arrive were the Drummonds. Charles was sensible and funfloving, but one had to be very careful with Glena. She was easily offended and if you stood on one foot instead of two, it irritated her. She readily jumped to conclusions, and this often caused her a great deal of trouble and embarrassment. Would you like a drink, Glena? Andy asked, and seemed surprised that it had actually come from him. Please, Andy, I'll have a Scotch and soda. How are you, Gladys? Haven't seen you for ages. Got to keep right to the grindstone, you know. How have you been keeping? Oh, just fair, nerves, you know. They're beginning to act up again. That's too bad, dear. It'lI clear up soon, though. It always has, anyway. Flora quickly turned the conversation to the children, and Murray settled down to expound his views on the election. When dinner was an' nounced, Glena ran upstairs to 'freshen up. She got her comb and lipstick from her handbag and went to the mirror. With a gasp of horror, she realized that one diamond earring was missing. They were family heirlooms and, she claimed, almost priceless. If her nerves had ever suffered, they suffered now. What was she to do? Her first thought was Charles. Why was he not here when she wanted him? She took a nerve pill, and then she hit on a wonderful plan. She would observe everyone at the dinner table, and, without arousing suspicion, find out which one had stolen her earring. She began her observations as soon as she sat down, starting with Murray. He was in the library with me. He could have seen it drop. What have I done to him to deserve this? Wait! . . . Would he remember? Twenty years isalong time to hold a grudge . . . still, knowing Murray . . . I know just what he's thinking now. 'I've fixed her. Serves her rightf What a perfectly dreadful thing to do! He's so nervous, look how he plays with his glass and spoon. Gladys next caught her attention. Gladys doesn't believe these gems are real. I'll bet that she stole one to check and see if it is genuine. It would be just like her. I can tell from the way she watches me that she has something on her mind. Poor Glena hardly heard the conversation going on around her, and she ate practically nothing. Perhaps it was Andy, she thought. He gambles a lotg I wonder if he lost last night? How can I tell if it was Andy? He wouldn't have enough sense to take the earring, but he had the best chance. Oh! Andy, why do you always have to look so stupid and blank? You make me so angry, do something that will give you away, please. Then it dawned on her. Of course' Flora. Why didn't I think of her before? She's jealous of me. Those looks she always gives meg calls me