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

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IO me was killed in a brawl pn Westcott. Quite a fuss that was, sir, the kids were bleedin' . . 'iDisgraceful! exclaimed the gentleman reading the paper with disgust. The picture beside the article he was reading was that of policemen attempting to subdue a mob of bleeding and fighting creatures. Thinking that he had finally aroused the man's attention, the driver went on. That it was, sir. lt's disgraceful that those people's kids should be allowed to bully other people's kids. lt ain't right, y' know. 'Alf the time, people like that dont know what their kids is doin' when they're out beatin' some poor devil up. M' boy was tryin' to defend himself, 'e was, an' then they started - . Turn right, here, interrupted the pas- senger without interest. The driver did not even finish his sen- tence since he knew that it was futile to interest anyone in his sorrows. He felt the familiar lump rise slowly and chokingly into his throat and his tired eyes began to sting. What's the use? he said to himself: who cares? Three forty-nine, sir? Here y'are, sir. 'AHow much? Eight and six, sir. G' bye, sir, 'n thank ya kindly. He stared longingly after the well- dressed figure that was taking long. quick strides - A new suit, with a fresh carnation was so appealing. It was an ordinary day. A lady com' plained about her arthritis, another chatted incessantly about her daughter's accomplish, ments, and an old man even talked about his butterfly collection. He could talk to none of them. His whole day consisted of driving and agreeing with Mrs. Chatham that her neighbour was completely in the wrong. At the end of the day, the old cab turned toward home almost without the guidance of its driver. The sun, like a busybody un- willing to keep her nose out of others' af- fairs, reluctantly sank behind the clouds which again blocked his hazy view. The sky above had become overcast with smoke and grime, giving evidence of the toil of those who struggle for their survival in a busy world. Having parked his source of revenue in the street, he approached the flat that he could truly call his own,- that is if he did not object to a dozen or more identical struc- tures surrounding his. As the rusty key turned in the rusty lock, an excited bark welcomed him home. A thin mongrel leapt at him in ecstasy, his scrawny tail wagging incessantly- A slow pleased smile on the man's face replaced the previous expression of concern and exhaustion. Guess y' miss Georgie, eh fella! slap- ping the bony sides. Go on out 'n l'll fix y' some scraps. The dog obediently obliged, and the man drew back the curtains, browned at the edges with age and dampness, to catch a few of the receding beams and lighten the shabby room before he had to light the gas. He stared out on to the dirty street, com- pletely enveloped in a reverie of happy me- mories. His momentary happiness was dis'- turbed by an almost apologetic scratch at the door. He allowed the dog to enter and headed toward the cupboard to get the rest of his breakfast soup. The dog's bright. spirited eyes followed the man's tired shuffle and watched him light the fire and heat his soup. While waiting for the soup to warm, he cat invitingly in one of the few chairs in the room and the dog bounded into his lap. He often sat and listened to the man. but could only tell by his tone of voice what his feelings were. The man scratched his cars and gently stroked his head. HY' know, 'enry, I often wonder what's the point of goin' on in this world when you're so unimportant that nobody gives a damn about your losses or needs. With that he shuffled away to rescue the precious contents of the heavy steel pot, lest it escape and be destroyed if not treated and watched with care PAME-LLA KAYSER-FOTIH VI The Price Une there were grain fields, gold in the sun. Once, through rain, barefoot children did run. Once the gentle winds kissed the good ri-ch earth. Gnce the eyes of men held laughter and mirth. Then came the war, destructive and bad. Then came soldiers and took all we had. Then our men left to fight and to die. Then we women, tearfully, stood by. Now this land lies deserted and bare. Now it is barren because of no care. Now l'm a widow with children three, But, now our country is finally free. JUDITH DOWLER-Form V

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5lGN.6 7' 5 ,hgggg U 9 is -pu-47' :bd Q-A 011' xlxlsf , fy L LITEKHKY Af The soft morning sun peeked through the fluffy, blushing clouds, which blocked his view of the life below, perhaps of the old blue cab, that rattled and wheezed as it jogged along its familiar route. The hard, grey stone of the old English buildings was inellowed by the gently pink light and was soon to be steeped in the blithe beams of the sun, which would, in a few hours, wink brightly through the leaves. To the cab driver, it was an ordinary day for an ordinary man- His tired eyes scanned the sidewalks for any early cus- tomers. His face had become drawn and dejected over the last, lonely ten years and his eyes reflected the loneliness of his pre- sent life. The people that looked into his face, had the feeling that he had been de- prived of everything that he had ever loved. His recent grief permeated his whole face and was apparent to all those who came in contact with him. He had lost a son - his only child, and now he found that he had nothing in the world to cling to except the happy memories of tousled blonde hair and laughing lips. But these memories were not strong enough to sustain the kind of life that he was forced to take part in. The boy had met a violent death. Quarrelling with his friends, he had received a heavy blow which had sent him forcefully to the rough pavement. His' father could not discuss his grievances with anyone -- the world was too busy. S :s Q. -i :r cu F Q Q Q. -I Q sr cu 'I' :- 1, E Q -4' The driver was aroused from his deep cogitation by a well-dressed gentleman fran- tically waving his arms and shouting to 31'- tract his attention. He brought the old cab to a jerking halt, glancing quickly over his shoulder to be sure that the back scat had been dusted. The gentleman was half in the cab before he could even open thc door. G'mornin', sir, he said apologetically. but the gentleman had failed to notice his lack of movement. Three forty-nine Maplegrove East. the man replied gruffly and buried his nose in his paper. Pretty sunrise, don't y'think, sir? com- mented the driver lamely, attempting to start a conversation. l Uh-huh, grunted the man in the back. who probably did not even hear him. being deeply involved in the financial section. Anxious to pour out his grief to anyone. the driver began to relate tales about his boy and his death. M'boy used to get up on a mornin' like this 'n go fishin, 'e did. Used to love fishin y' know. You like fishin' much? No answer. 'AM'boy 'n me would both get up 'n go fishin' now 'n then, y'know. Used to love it, we did. Them was the days. Still no answer. boy died t' other day, he said quietly. Not receiving the sympathy that he had expected, he went on.

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11 Mun - The Inventor of Division Sixty minutes, of sixty seconds, divide an hour. Sixty, and three hundred degrees, divide a circle- Ten, and two constellations, divide a zodiac. A heritage from Babylonian sages And all resist the destroying hand But what of man, inventor of division? Black and white, divide a race. Creed and philosophy, divide a nation. Agression and animosity, divide the world. A heritage from Modern sages. Who yet do say: United we stand, divided we fall. SUSAN FOLEY-FOI'm VI A Chance To Talk A grating of gravel and slamming of car doors announced the arrival of some visitors in the farmyard. Probably city folks wantin' eggs and some of them chickens I dressed before breakfast. just when l was goin to help Ma with shellin' the peas. lt's bad for her rheu- matism to work so hard, but she just wont quit. Tressie Metzger dried her hands on her apron and looked out of the window. She brightened visibly and called to her old mother who was keeping closer to the warm air rising from the furnace. lt's Mrs. Gingerick and her grand- daughters from Minnesota, come fer a Christmas visit. Tressie straightened her prayer cap and strode to the door, shouting to the dogs to be quiet. Come right on in and take off your wraps. Drat them 'Coon dogs, they get all excited and scittery if anybody but Cecil comes near 'em- Yes, Cecil's out just now: he'll be sorry he missed you. I-le's gone fox- huntin' with some of the boys fer the bounty. Didnt you see the three of 'em, already hangin' by their feet from the first tree as you come in the driveway? He gets six dol- lars, what with the bounty and the price fer pelts. Why dont you children go on over to the barn and see the kittens. We've got two new litters. That old tabby cat with only three legs which limps purty bad, which Cecil runned over with the mover last fall, had a litter, but most of her kitties died. just about the same time, Cecil was cuttin wood fer the furnace and he found four baby 'coons in one of the trees he was chop- pin' down. He had chopped through two of them before he knowed they was there, but saved the other two. and brought them home. We gave 'em to the old tabby cat to nurse and put in a couple of the dead kittens to reassure her. Well, purty soon she began takin' no notice of her babies who werent movin' and took care of them baby 'coons just as proud as could be. She mother-ed 'em like her own until they got too rough with her. Une of the 'coons died from somethin' 't ate and Cecil spoils the one that's left somethin' terrible. Why, he goes out to the barn and the 'coon comes runnin out from behind the bales of straw and digs in his shirt pocket fer raisins. He loves raisins, and that's where just about all of mine go. but he's such a funny crittur with his bright eyes and shy ways that we just cant let him starve. But l never let Cecil bring him into the house ever since he sneaked in one dav with the 'coon and just raised the dickens. But at least he didnt get into the eggs. l guess it was about the only thing he didnt get into. UMa was pleased to get your card for her eighty-fourth birthday. She got forty- three cards from people and so many were pictures of flowers- They know what she likes. I'll go git the card-holder and you ken look at them while I stoke the furnace. This bitter weather sure eats up the wood. Why, Cecil had to go over an git another load from Yoder's wasteland yesterday af- ternoon and we've made a good hole in it already. But I suppose up where you live. this seems purty mild. HHere are our Christmas cards too. There aint quite so many of them but some are real clever. My niece Fern sent this here red one with her name worked into the first letters of the verse. lt took us thc longest time to find out who sent it, and Ma still thinks that whoever sent it didnt sign her name, but Cecil noticed that Fern hidden away there. Aint it a pretty red? Well, if you must go, I guess you must. Here are some eggs and a few little things we canned last summer. No, dont worry about them. The eggs is the usual price. Cecil's goin' to be comin' in and wantin his dinner so l'd better hop around and put