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Page 13 text:
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We thought you might enjoy these as a welcome. They grow wild here in the woods. We call them the roses of New France. As she looked at the ring of smiling faces, Helene was touched. t'Thank you all, she said. They are truly lovely, and I be- lieve I shall save them in my Bible to remind me of this, my arrival in my new land. And as she opened her Bible, a small dry bouquet of blue forget-me-nots fell out onto the dust of the road and were left behind, unnoticed. KATHRYN NEILSON - Form' VI llnlmo wn Force Only you can unlock my safe And let the sparkling jewls Flow from their peaceful haven And with each glittering gem A little of my heart and life ebb away. Only you control the waves of the sea Calm and silent reflecting the sky, Dashing, crashing against the cliffs, Trembling fearfully, hovering near, Allowing a little of my strength to fade Only you possess the key to my gateway Your feet treading upon' by vintage Trampling and searing my pasture green And plucking every floiveret in sight. Only you control my heart. ELAINE WADHAM - Form V MY TAIENTS AND HOWI USE THEM The other day we had to write an essay on talents, not just on anybody's talent, but on our own. I was forced to concentrate deeply - mainly on the end of my pencil. After staring stupidly at a sheet of blank paper for half an hour I decided that this was getting me nowhere and so I made a list of talents. Completing this, I crossed off all those I did not possess. Thus I had a prob- lem to solve - where would I find another sheet of paper? I was quite plain that the other sheet could not be used simply because it was covered with red marks. Using my head I decided that my bountiful, if some- what hidden talents, did not include essay writing. Looking at the paper I discovered many things about me - mainly that swimming. skiing, skating, playing the piano, drawing or dancing were most certainly not among my talents. In defence, I asked an empty room if anyone had all these talents, and knowing the answer, replied, Once more unto the breach, dear friends, to my leaky pen ,torn 'blotting paper and dictionary. Having settled those things which did not concern me I thought upon things that I had done with a certain amount of ability. Listing them, I discovered that during the past summer I had done many such things as mowing the lawn. Mowing the lawn is not easy, it takes skill. The first thing that one needs to know is how to operate the machine. Usually this is very complicated, but ours is different. It is an old 'fpush and it goes type which proved easy on my brain, if not on my arms. Once the machine is going, the rest is easy. .lust watch for all kinds of matter - vegetable, mineral, or animal, since when ap- proaching the matter the mower seems to get a spurt of energy and runs directly for what- ever it is. This can prove embarrassing, especi- ally when one knocks down a minister who has come to visit. It is equally important to be careful not to get a shoelace caught in the blades, unless of course, you have a great desire to be a martyr to automation. I decided that my talent was not mowing lawns, and as my mother was massaging my aching arms, I thought that perhaps my superior talents were better suited to a higher plane of cul- ture. After this I drew an easier breath. Every girl can cook. My first dessert followed one of my mother's meals, but everyone seemed to have difficulty in downing even a small helping of my cake. From this and other culinary experiences I came to the conclusion that my talents were not suited for homemakingg unless of course, an agreeable millionaire comes along and car- ries me away to his castle in Spain, where, dressed only in originals, I shall emerge, oc- casionally, to lecture on how a person with no talents can marry a rich man and live happily everafter. TEDDI NANCE - Form VI I 5. .Y -I I r r I l 91 LJ 95-Q IFS a. lion - of coursqfx' D. KILGOUR. M. BRUCE H11 rr lr
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Page 12 text:
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and misery of the other families. In her home there had been poverty, yes, but it had not erased their love for one another. Fighting back her tears, she had run for solace, and there, as she wandered along her beloved paths, she had forced herself to accept the future which had been thrust upon her. Remembering the needs of her small sisters and brothers, she had come to think of her venture not as a burden to be borne with resentment, but as a sacrifice to the love which her home and family held for her. Indeed, her parents' talk of oppor- tunity and challenge had ill hidden their pangs of conscience and sense of loss, for they felt genuine sorrow at sending their daughter to face the unknown alone. Had times been better - a larger harvest, a less demanding monseigneur, perhaps .... But such was not the case, and as preparations for her departure continued, the thought that she was sacrificing herself, for her family had partially compensated for her grief in leaving them. But Andre! Nothing could ever compen- sate for the sense of loss she felt at parting from him. Sighing, she reached beneath her sleeping blanket, and pulled out a small Bible, her only tangible memory of home. Pressed carefully between the pages at which she opened it, was a small bouquet of with- ered blue blossoms, forget-me-nots, a fare- well gift from her Andre. As she gazed rev- erently at them, a wave of resentment welled up in her, not against her family, nor against the hardship of her journey, but rather against her new home and the unknown man who would one day become her husband. It was they who had taken her away from France, preventing her inevitable betrothal to Andre and her subsequent happiness. No, grief for her family could be softened by sac- rifice, but nothing could compensate for her separation from Andre. The delighted shouts of those on deck awakened her from her reverie, and her awareness of the rubbish and foul air around her returned. Carefully replacing her precious Bible, she stood up and picked her way through the belongings strewn on the floor to the ladder. She must see New France soon- er or later she told herself, in spite of her effort to sound resigned, she was surprised by the curiosity she felt as she made her way up the ladder. Once on deck, she found a place by the rail and looked out across the sea. Yes, there against the horizon was a black rise which must be the land. Is that what everyone is excited about then? she asked her neighbour, trying to Tcn sound scornful. Yet she could not explain the strange exhilaration which she felt aris- ing in her - surely it was the effect of the unaccustomed fresh air. As the distant shore loomed closer, she became openly interested in spite of herself. For the first time since leaving France, she forgot her homesickness and seasickness, and found herself wondering about the future in- stead of dwelling on the past. What would this New France really be like? In the distance she discerned with de- light the forests which lined the shore. The thought of trees in the New World was new to her, and she found it strangely comforting. Her thoughts turned to her uncle and his family. Would they be very much changed? Ten years had passed since she had last seen them but she could clearly recall her cousins, Jeanine and Pierot, who had been her childhood playmates. It would be plea- sant to have someone her own age to help her at first. She looked self-consciously at her dress, torn and travel-stained from the voyage, and remembered how proud of it she had been in St. Malo. A gift from Mon- sieur Talon to all the girls sailing to New France, it had been her first new dress, but now . . . Whatever would her cousins think of her! She caught herself in surprise, wondering that her thoughts could turn to pleasing someone other than Andre. Yet, as the ship drew into the harbour at Gaspe, she could not help but think about the family and future which awaited her on the shore. The crowds lining the dock cheered as the boat entered the bay, for the arrival of a ship from France was always an event. The passengers alighted first, eyes wide with expectancy, taking in as much of their new world as they could. In spite of a last effort at indifference and scorn, Helene found her- self as excited as her companions, and thrilled at the sights and sounds of her new home. Making her way somewhat timidly through the crowd, she heard someone call her name, and turning, found herself confronted by Uncle Gaspard and Aunt Therese, a little older but otherwise the same, and welcoming her as their own daughter. Behind them were Jeanine and Pierot - how handsome he had grown! - and several smaller cousins whom she had never met. Due introductions were made, and then she was swept to their wagon amid a barrage of questions and laughter. She was installed in the wagon and they were on their way to the homestead before Pierot, prompted by a younger sister, remem- bered the gift they had brought. With some embarrassment, he handed her a sprig of delicate pink blossoms.
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Page 14 text:
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HOW T0 l05E FRIENDS The old saying, 'LA friend in need is a friend indeed, and Friendship is golden, are just fine for many people, but I often wonder what one is to quote if one doesn't want friends. I have yet to see a saying, poem or article on the art of losing friends - an art that is practised more and more each day. Feeling that such a common art should be given due recognition, I inked my feather, so to speak, and decided to write an article on the subject myself. The first major step to be taken is to be able to cling. Don't let your friend out of your sight. Wherever she goes, you go. Act like a vine and do not let go. Haunt her so that the last thing she sees when she goes to bed is you and the first person she sees when she wakes up in the morning is you. Just for added effect, copy her in dress, make-up, hair styles and activities. Stay with her all day, completely monopolizing her time and never take a get lost hint. Most of all, when she makes plans with someone else, get jealous. Be possessive and make a scene. Ac- cuse her of ignoring you. And don't take sec- ond place to anybody or anything. To take another step in the right direction, you must master the technique of smothering your friend with affection, gifts and praise. Lavish her with expensive presents and be sure she knows the cost. Maul her in -public and sulk if she won't play the best friends act and maul you too. Compliment her all the time, even if she is most undeserving of it. Boast about her to everybody. She will ap- preciate the public attention. You may find that some may need more attention than others and you must regulate your flow of tender loving care to fit the personality. If you cannot gossip. you may be a failure. How can you lose a friend if you don't tell all her intimate secrets to someone else? This brings me to what you should tell fher. Open your heart to her and let her know all your problems, secret worries and complaints. Cry on her shoulder often so that she will feel worried. And above all, be funny. Tell things to her all the time that you find particularly amusing and. if she does not laught, remem- ber -- we all cannot have a sense a humor. The last but important step towards losing a friend is to learn the proper method of em- barrassing her in public. Talking and laughing often does the trick ibut it sometimes takes a little more. You can try flirting, talking back to salesclerks, or singing while on the escalator and, if all else fails, shoplifting and getting caught does the trick every time. If all the above steps are taken and you still cannot lose that friend. forget it. You are just too nice. LAURA JOHNSTON - Form IV Tn r'l1'1 The Goclless Na tion Once we stood victorious ,proud, Praised by many an eye and crowdg We were sure, and strong, and wise, We were hated and despised. Honoured by all who served and loved. Cherished as that sacred dove. Strong nations fell into our way, Toppled from their mighty swayg Lords and princes all bowed down Paying homage to our crown, Dutifully the victims yield While we the victor rose. Now we struggle to survive, Now the hornets not the hive, Once unconquered, now we fall Yielding to another Saul, All our honour, love and praise Loom behind us in a haze. Moclcery besets us now, Unwilling we must slowly bow, Now we realize our act, Now we ponder the true fact, That in our time of strength and power God in us had died. JENNIFER COX - Form IV .THE PRICE of FREEDOM ana' MANHOOD I sat and watched Old Joe gently wheez- ing and staring intently into the fireg his sharp eyes piercing the eerie shapes formed by the jaunty crimson flames. He appeared to be enchanted by the crackling sparks and spiralling smoke reflected in his eyes, and yet I knew he was reliving the past. He would inevitably lapse into a favourite tale. The moon had risen, sending her silvery beams darting amongst forbidden recesses re- vealing night's mystery. Glittering stars care- fully sprinkled, illuminated the heavens and so we two sat silhouetted -against the sky. The fire by this time was reduced to glow- ing embers and I rose to add more wood. Glancing about, I noticed the lush meadow in which we had camped and the forbidding forests closing -us in. Close lby, our horses grazed and this seemed to jerk Joe's thoughts back to the present. His bronze face was weather-beaten and his dark eyes glowed with excitement. At first he spoke slowly and softly, but as the story progressed he be-came more involved and his emotions showed through the working of his face. He told of his early boyhood and life of which I knew something and of a magni- ficent mare which had been bred among their ponies and had soon after become a
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