Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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20 « The Branksome Slogan The Swimming Pool. Spring Sunshine and blue sky and buds on the trees. The odor of daffodils scenting the breeze, Grass soft and green springing out of the mould. Crocuses peeping up, purple and gold; Robin ' s song, bluebird ' s wings. Little, green, growing things; Brooks running full and fast over the stone. Violet sky, and gay Lilacs arc on the spray; All the world ' s singing, for Winter has gone. Squirrels are chattering ' mongst the green leaves. Swallows are building a nest ' neath the eaves; Little .white clouds in the blue azure sky. Crows in the pine tree tops plaintively cry. Fairy folk in the glen, Robin Hood, merry men, Through the green forest their gay voices ring; Peter Pan ' s here once more. Dear folks of fairy lore — All the world ' s singing — again it is Spring, M. HOPKINSON, Form IV.

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A Legend of Mount Fuji OUNT FUJI, or Fuji-yama ( The Never-dying Moun- tain ), seems to be typically Japanese. Its great snow- capped cone resembles a huge inverted fan, the fine streaks down the sides giving the appearance of fan-ribs. It has been fittingly described: Fuji dominates life by its silent beauty; sorrow is hushed, longing quieted, peace seems to flow down from that changeless home of peace, the peak of the white lotus. The reference here to a white lotus is as appropriate as that of a fan, for it refers to the sacred flower of Bud- dha, and its eight points symbolize the eight intelligences of Perception, Purpose, Speech, Conduct, Living, Mindfulness and Contemplation. The general eff ect is one of religion, and on the other, a fan vast enough and fair enough to coquette with the stars and soft moving clouds. It is not then surprising tc find that legends have grown round the venerable and venerated mountain. Like so many mountains in eastern countries, it is asso- ciated with the Elixir of Life. The fame of Fuji, so an old legend tells us, reached the ears of the Emperor of China and he conjectured that Mount Fuji must yield the Elixir of Life itself. He accordingly collected his retainers and set sail for the Land of the Rising Sun. The junks rushed before the roaring winds like a shower of gold petals, but eventually the storm abated, and the Em- peror and his people saw the white splendor of Fuji rise before them. Hour after hour the procession climbed, the golden robed Emperor ever .walking in advance, until the sound of the sea was lost, and the thousand feet trod softly on the snow, where there was peace and life eternal. Nearing the journey ' s end, the old Emperor ran forward, for he wanted to be the first to drink the Elixir of Life. And he was the first to taste of that life which never grows old; but, when his company found him, he was lying on his back .with a smile upon his face. He had indeed found life eternal . . . . but it was through the way of death. MOMIJI UBUKATA. 19

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The Branksome Slogan 21 ti Jane Part I. Generally speaking, a handkerchief is not considered one of the most import- ant or interesting articles of apparel. Of course, it is decidedly useful, but one would not attach much thought tb so very prosaic an object. At least, this was the attitude which Robin Andrews held towards the subject; and he ought to know. Being six foot two inches, and having a body like a young god with face to match, Robin felt that he did know, rather a lot. His eyes were clear grey, and his hair had an inclination to kink a little, much to his daily annoyance. In- cidentally he played polo rather well, rode like an Arab, and .was amateur tennis champion of Greyfriars. At present he was staying at his club in London, having motored up from Greyfriars for the polo matches. On the afternoon of the twelfth of June his Herculean body might have been seen slowly ambling down the Strand. Suddenly his eyes focused on a small white object lying by the side of the street. On examination, it proved to be a small, lace affair, which he guessed to be a handkerchief. It was exquisitely fine and in one corner the name Jane was delicately embroidered in charming lettering. His heart quickened — Jane had always been his favourite name. The dainty creation smelt faintly of orange blossoms. The young man ' s pulses throbbed. He was ridiculously roman- tic. So small and dainty an affair must surely belong to some ravishingly lovely creature, he thought. Would she be dark or fair? He did not know — he rather hoped she .would be a blonde. He had always admired fair curly hair. Jane sounded like a brunette though. Her eyes would be brown, of course. A Jane always had dark brown eyes . , . At this point in his soliloquy he bumped into an elderly lady who was hurrying in the opposite direction. He laid the handkerchief tenderly in his vest pocket, next his heart. He must find the right Jane — he must, he must I She was sure to be perfect — a Jane always was — Part II. That night he was going to a dinner party — fool things, dinner parties — vwhy had he promised to go anyway? But he might meet Jane. He grew slightly nervous at the thought. Eight o ' clock found an immaculate Robin, cordially shaking hands with his host and hostess. Robin, dear, Lady Nanton was say- ing, this is my niece, Jane Langmuir — Mr. Robin Andrews. How-d-d-do you do? he stammer- ed, almost forgetting to bow. The girl ' s eyebrows elevated — oh — just such a tiny bit — but Robin didn ' t notice that — Jane! — a Jane with green eyes and black hair! It was unthinkable! Surely there was a mistake somewhere! He couldn ' t believe his senses — In a daze he found himself at the dinner table beside her. He glanced at her sideways — she wasn ' t bad looking — but, green eyes! Horrible! Oh, Mr. Andrews, I believe you know my — Good heavens! The girl had an awful twang. Surely she would never use such a handkerchief; but it might be — Slowly he produced it and spread it on his knee.