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

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THE HORSELESS CARRIAGE The sun beat down on the dusty gravel road which led through town. The crowd which 'had gathered was hot and unco-mfort- able although a fresh, perfumed breeze cool- ed the air. The swish of long skirts along the wooden sidewalks was scarcely audible above the laughter of children. It was early twen- tieth century, and horse-drawn carriages were tethered at every availalble post. After all, this was the first time in years that there had been a competition, ia race, in the quaint, sleepy Tethertown. Everyone was excited. 'I'll wager two dollars on the horse and carriage, offered an elderly shopkeeper. 'tl shall double that amount for the car, replied his fat, domineering wife, giving her husband a sharp poke in the ribs with her elbow. In front of the post office at the end of town stood a chestnut mare, harnessed to a light buggy. A plump, elderly man, in a t-op hat and dark suit, stroked the horse's n e c k fondly and chuckled. Give in, son, the gentleman laughed. You don't have a chance! Mr. Lyndale's son stood nearby, polishing the already brilliant chrome bumper on his car. It was la small car with large, thin wheels and high, uncomfortable seats. She's my pride and joy, Harold Lyndale answered, patting the windshield. Her for- mer owner assured me that she would never fail me. Why, he was almost in tears when I took her away. Again Mr. Lyndale chuckled. Will the contestants please get ready, an announcer bellowed from his seat neanby. A fair young lady picked up her skirts and trotted lightly to her husband. She wore a beautiful pastel pink dress land a large, wide- brimmed hat decked with frills and flowers. Are you sure this monster isn't danger- ous, Harold? she asked, drawing in her flowing skirt. Harold kissed his wife gently on the cheek. On your mark! called the announcer. Harold ran his fingers through his dark, wavy hair and adjusted his large, comical goggles. Get set! LSGOYY7 He turned and gave his car a firm, swift crank. A blast of stale air exploded from the back of the car. His father's horse, startled, 1 0'l!l'fCCIl reared and -bolted. The carriage sped into the distance with only Mr. Lyndale's coat-tails visible, flapping in the cloud of dust. Harold cranked anxiously. What a time for his car to fail him! He could feel the mocking eyes of the crowd 'watching him. He glanced around. He saw bright, shiny faces peering at him from long lines along the street, and grinning at him from above. I'l1 catch up! he shouted shaking his fist at the cloud of dust rolling in front of him. He cranked again. His grease-smeared fingers slipped over the handle, and left a large black smear across the gleaming bum- per. Would he ever forget the day he had bought his car home? He had driven up the road in triumph. Dogs had barked, and chil- dren had run along-side. His wife had dashed out to meet him, ther face beaming. Then came the shattering blow! Having sighted the tin can as he called it, his father had burst into gales of laughter, and had had to be helped -into the house. Then, to make matters worse, he had challenged his son to a race with his horse and carriage. If the car won, there fwas a hands-ome money prize. If it lost, as he now felt it was sure to, the car was to be sold. Harold cranked again,.. as. .ifxhe fwere knocking down his opponent. A loud blast, and the car began to chug, and shook vio- lently. He hopped over the door, and smoothed his fuzzy moustache -with this black, grimy hands. Then he pushed the gear stick forward. What a jolt he got! He lurched down the road. On either side, the crowd snickered softly, and ladies hid their smiling faces be- hind their lacy lparasols. The simple, white- washed fences passed in endless lines beside him. Even the small, two-storey 'houses seemed to lean forward in wonder. He pas- sed all the tiny shops which cluttered Main Street, and came to open country with the dazzling yellow mustard fields. He must have travelled about two miles before he saw the finish line. There stood his father gloating, grinning triumphantly, and giving his winning mare a carrot. lt was such a nice car, Harold sighed, feeling very abashed as he putted slowly across the line. Bouquets of flowers fluttered about him. From playful children's hands shot brightly coloured streamers. All around him birds sang and insects hummed. Harold felt gay, although the streamers were not for him, but his father.

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lucky symbol of -his tribe. When a lad, Joe had guarded her with his life. He would set her free in the hot summer evenings when they were camped lin the foothills and catch her in the dawn. She was an albino with large pink eyes, alert ears and a small head proudly placed on powerful shoulders. In the moonlight her lustrous coat shone. Her gleaming muscles rippled beneath her coat as she galloped across the foothills, her creamy tail and mane flowing out benind her. She was wild with freedom. Each year as winter set in he had had to leave 'her and depart for his winter lodgings in the mountains. When spring arived he would be racing down to the foothills to seek the mare. One beautiful spring when he was sixteen he felt nervous. The journey down was breathtaking. On each side of the path the underbrusih was thick. Large trees, with their leafy limbs lifted high, overlapped one another, forming arches. A frightened deer occasionally bounded across their trail. The children picked dainty flowers and wove them into scened garlands. The delicate vio- lets and buttercups were abundant and their fragrance perfumed the mountain air. It was hard work traversing the mountains with their belongings but there was always the anticipation of a soft bed of pine needles or lush grass beneath t-he stars. I looked into Joe's face and blinked away a tear as I saw this face - sad and yet full of eagerness and longing. He continued after a slight pause. He spoke of the mimicking loon and the hooting owl, the gurgling stream and the splash of rainbow trout. On the last stretch, the wood petered out into a rugged trail of jagged rocks and sharp turns. Sheer cliffs fell to the left and the menacing mountain rose to the right. Aval- anches occurred occasionally and when a care- less foot knocked a loose pebble it would be whirled over the edge in a swirl of dust to clatter to its doom. For one second one would remain rigid with fear and then pro- ceed cautiously. It was a rough beauty and soon the hardy tribe would wind its way down the treacherous slopes into the foot- hills to their summer camp. After helping his family to settle in and completing his tasks, he was roaming the valley looking for his mare. She was always there in the ravine awaiting his return. This year, she stood defiantly beneath the old knoted tree, her head lifted proudly. She whinnied softly as Joe patted her rump and she nuzzled at his shirt from which he pro- duced a tasty tidbit. She chewed it hungrily while Joe stood back to gaze at her. She was in the prime of her life. Her muscles twitched and she pawed the earth. Then she was off like the wind. Joe returned often, sometimes to ride her as she no longer ran with the Indian ponies but had joined a wild pack of renegades. Mid-summer, Joe arived with two lumps of sugar for Misty. The ravine was empty and there was no answering whinny to his whistle. He had ridden his own pinto but he was a sluggish pony. Just as he emerged from the ravine he caught sight of Misty racing across the valley towards the mountain trail and in hot pursuit were five riders shoot- ing and terrifying her. On impulse he urged his pinto into a gallop after Misty. He knew vaguely that he must save her but he would never catch her or her pursuers. Misty had begun to climb the treacherous mountain trail closely followed by the riders intent upon their prey. Joe swept past on his fat pony. In 'his eyes I could read the hatred and disgust he held for the five -chasers. I shrank from his stare and became engrossed once more. Misty's hooves scarcely touched the sur- faceg she was a winged Pegasus. Round each bend she swerved haphazardly, but panic and fear had overcome her and freedom was all she desired. Joe rounded a bend and stopped in time to see Misty swerve and leap into the sky's bosom, arched gracefully, mane and tail flowing out majestically and then she swooped earthward over the c1iff's to free- dom beyond. Joe sat shocked and then turned his pony home down the darkening trail. Five white men passed a sulky Indian lad on the trail. They stared at one another for a minute and they understood. The leader mumbled some- thing under his breath and they passed on. Joe rode home that evening, a boy no longer, but a man who must face the world. He stopped, and his eyes full of hatred looked into mine, and then I understood. It was my grandfather, now a man withered and bent with suffering, who had committed the dreadful deed of which he never spoke. And just as Joe saw my comprehension, I saw his smile of forgiveness. ELAINE WADHAM - Form V It took the world a decade, At least ten years to mould Her steadfast soul and body In pain and sorrow and joy. It took the world one day, An hour of despair to place The forlorn and weary look Upon the young girlis face. E. L. after E. J. Pratt DITTE LANSKY - Form VI Tlli1'fC1'n

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He stepped out of the car, and leaned against the door, thinking: 'His large, roomy trousers flapped lazily in the wind. His wife ran up to him, but taking a closer look, backed away. Before her stood her husband, looking like a chimney sweep. His face was as white as death from the dust except for several greasy streaks across his forehead and down his cheeks. He had re- moved his goggles and his eyes stood out clean and bold. His dry, cracked lips turned up in a sheepish grin. He and his wife began to laugh. That monster may not win races, giggled his wife. but it obviously has a great effect on you. She's my pride and joy, Harold answered. JANE EVANS - Form III A Spring Wallr As I walked through the woods one day, I heard the sounds of springg The rustling leaves, echoing through the trees The chanting of the brook in time with the breeze. Cardinals in the treetops sweetly singing The bluejay's bold call makes the valleys ring. As I walked through the woods one day I felt the joys of spring. As I walked through the woods one day I saw the sights of spring, Wise old owl peering from his tree, Toads staring idly, looking at meg Swiftly scampering deer coming from the marsh, Busy beavers building dams of bark so harsh. As I walked through the woods one day I felt the joys of spring. ANNE GRANT - Form I Noises Have you ever gone to a matinee When all the audience is girls and boys, And listened throughout the entire play To the various echoes of their noise? There's a snap and pop With no sign of stop. Thereis crackle and crunch And an occasional munch. They shift and prattle While wrappers they rattle. They cheer, then hiss, But not a play do they miss. JANIS MCKEAG - Form III BRUNCHING OUT On our Christmas holidays my family went to Florida. While there we met a family from New Jersey who had two girls about my age, Nancy and Jane. We three became very good friends. On New Year's Day the two families went out for brunch It was served in the Satel- lite Room of the Satellite Hotel. There were two eating areas, a lower lounge and an upper lounge just above the lower level, so that one could look down on the people below. Brunch was served in buffet style. There were many kinds of food, and I did not know what to -have. I decided on an old standaby, scrambled eggs and bacon. Nancy, Jane, and I ate in the upper lounge. Before eating, we talked about the setting of -the room, the place mats, and watched the stars above in the ceiling. The whole room was designed to give the atmosphere of being in a satellite in space. By the time we had finished chatting, 'my brunch had grown cold. 'Ilhe bacon was very tough and with a blunt knife, I found it difficult to cut. Finally I resorted to pulling it with my knife and fork. When it broke, my hand with the knife flew away from me taking with it my eggs. Th-ey went over the edge of the table and down to the next lounge. To my horror the eggs not only went down onto the plate of the lady below, but onto lher that and down her dress! My face, which was alreday beet red, turned redder when she turned around and gave me a withering stare. She then said, Harry, we will have to move! They im- mediately gathered up their food, water, cof- fee and utensils and moved across the room. Now, I never eat scrambled eggs and ba- con unless I am at home. JANIS MCKEAG - Form III THE ECUMENICAI GUINEA PIG The Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. At ten-thirty a group of rosy-checked young ladies neatly dressed in warm coats walked primly towards St. Anne's Church. Their feet crunched on the snow-covered walk as they trod along in the crisp morning air. Unknown to the senior girls in charge, curled in the depths of a winter coat pocket, nestled a black and white guinea pig. He had been bought by one of the girls as a pet for herself and her roommates. We had brought him to church, hoping that his religious knowledge would be improved. We settled down happily to listen to the service and fervently hoped it would help our Fiflrru