Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

Page 22 text:

20 Thk Branksome S1.0GAN Editorial Staff. Summer-Time The meadow grasses whisper as a light breeze wanders by, They ripple, sway and rustle in a sooth- ing lullaby; The sweet, soft scent of clover drowns the sleepy summer noon. And among the plumy willow purls the brook ' s confiding croon; And above its shimmering shallows streaks a lightning flash of blue. While a loud, triumphant rattle tells the kingfisher struck true. The sun-baked road meanders ' twixt tall hedges of wild rose. Whose tender, poignant fragrance like some dear, faint memory flows Upon my languid senses, as I gaze up from the grass At the fleecy, fragile cloudlets as they softly, slowly pass Across a sky whose blueness is so glori- ous — so rare — That I, in wondering ecstasy, can only lie and stare. JUNE WARREN, Form IV.

Page 21 text:

The: Branksome: Si ogan 19 The Influence of Envirnom Canada, it is often said, is one of the youngest countries in the world, and yet we never hear these words repeated with scorn, for even now it is recognized as a land of astounding present prosperity and of even greater future promise. It is a land in which we are proud to dwell, not only because of its vastness and its hidden riches, but because of the charac- ter and achievement of the people whose possession it is. That character and achievement are known to all the earth. If they had not been fully recognized be- fore, they were made manifest by the deeds of the sons of Canada on the fields of Flanders and on the battle-scarred ridges of Picardy. The spirit of the Canadian people is the spirit of Vimy — a name which no Canadian can utter without emotion and pride. If our land has already produced men of that sort, we need place no limits to our hopes of what our nation one day may be. I should like to mention one or two of the factors which make us confidently believe that the Canadian people will go on from strength to strength until, in the arts of peace, they will prove as con- summate as they have proved on the fields of war. I will not say much about the physical influences of the land itself, al- though these are by no means inconsider- able. The climate, especially in the north and west, demands and de velops a hardiness of the bodily frame which tends to make our people capable of severe and sustained toil. There is, however, one physical influ- ence to which due emphasis should be nt on the Canadian People given. In Canada, and particularly in that part of it in which we dwell, we have a mingling of Arctic and almost Tropical beauty. The white garment which shines in the sunlight of a Toronto winter day will, in a few weeks, be changed for the garment of many colors — red, orange and green — of the Cana- dian summer. Two other nations have the benefit of such contrasts and some day these contrasts will produce an art and a literature all their own. The great Rus- sian writers discovered their solemn mes- sage amidst the Russian snows. The great Italians found theirs amidst the al- most endless summer of the Mediter- ranean, but the Canadians are touched by both types of beauty and will learn one day to blend them. The chief influence, however, which plays upon us for good is the influence of the pioneer spirit. We cannot pay too great respect to the brave men and, perhaps, the still braver women, who, with their own bare hands, tamed nature to their own uses and peopled the loneli- ness with homes. They have bequeathed us the legacy of a spirit which has re- moved the word impossible from our dic- tionaries, and has taught us that by shar- ing one another ' s burdens we may make our lives richer and more strong. The spirit of brotherhood is the spirit of Canada and it is this that makes us confident that God will hear our prayer. Lord of all lands, make Canada Thine Own. MOLLY SCLATER, Form III. Spring When the beautiful spring time comes. And the sap from the maple runs. And grass begins to get green. The little birds here are seen. Time Flowers pop out of the ground. Tulips and snowdrops are found, Robins soon come on the scene. And everything starts to get green. MARY KINGSMILL, Age 12.

Page 23 text:

The Branksome Si ogan 21 Rupert A Romance. Of course, he ' s mad about me ' said Georgina, as she opened the second box of flowers that week and took out a small but exquisite bunch of large, blue violets. But aren ' t these too adorable for words! The small white card fell out and one of the girls leaned over to pick it up. It was only an instant, but all of them had time to catch a glimpse of the bold masculine handwriting, Adoringly — Rupert. What a romance! And a tremor ran through the little group gath- ered about Georgina as she slipped the note in the pocket of her middy blouse, and pressed the flowers to her lips. There is little of the romantic in life at a girls ' boarding school, and even the slightest hint of it is enough to cause a sensation. Georgina Gregory seemed the very essence of it. Sweet and seventeen, pretty and popular, though only lately, in fact, since the girls had discovered her thrilling intrigue with the handsome Ru- pert, whose photograph, in all its glory, graced her small dressing-table. A chorus of envious sighs stirred the group. How touching and how thrill- ing it all was, to be sure! Dear Georgina, do tell us about it, breathed Nathalie, plain and stout, but with a taste for the idealistic, nevertheless. Oh, cfo ' came the urgent echo from the rest of the girls. About what? asked Georgina, af- fecting an innocent air, and gazing off into space as if lifted high above such trivial and inconsequental, every-day things as school. About Rupert, of course, Nathalie replied. Yes, all about it, begged the others. You ' ve never told us, you know — all, we mean. Well, began Georgina, sighing con- tentedly (she loved to talk) , as she settled among the cushions on her small bed and the girls gathered eagerly about to listen, it ' s not a long story, but I do think it ' s remarkably thrilling. It was when I was in Cairo last winter. There was a carni- val at the hotel at which I was staying, and thousands of people there, of course, in fancy dress. Thousands? interrupted Nancy, who was of a practical nature. Well, hundreds, then — two hundred, anyway, continued Georgina, a little an- noyed. I wore a ravishing Spanish cos- tume with a gorgeous shawl. I had a perfectly divine time, too, and met so many thrilling men — well — (Georgina loved superlatives) . And there was one in particular who was really the hand- somest thing you ever saw. Dark and very Spanish-looking, you know? And— Was he Rupert? broke in Nancy again. Just wait and you ' ll hear, and Georgina went on with her story. He was tall and wore a shiek ' s costume that suited him — honestly, girls, I just wish you could have seen him. Well, anyway, he came over to where I was standing — gazing out over the dark blue of the Nile — and said: ' Senorita, your shawl has fallen. Allah has indeed been kind to allow me to be of service to one so fair. ' So he arranged my shawl for me. It really had fallen off, but I hadn ' t noticed it. Of course, we danced, and he dances divinely. Then we went out into the moonlit gar- den, and there he kissed my hand, and told me that he loved me passionately — adoringly — and hopelessly. Not hopelessly, dear Rupert, I mur- mured.