Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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24 The Branksome Slogan structure is built to shelter the horses and cattle from stormy winds. Also in the heat of the day when the animals are bothered by the biting flies that buzz around them continually, they slowly make their way to the old shed where the sun cannot beat upon their backs and where the horse-flies do not come around them in such countless numbers. Com- ing to this shed at the right time of day, one may see in the far corner Sukey, the old black and white cow, lying down and swishing her tail lazily and chew- ing her cud while she day-dreams pleas- antly without a care in the world. Stand- ing around her or lying near her are five or six of the other cows, their ears droop- ing and their eyes half closed. The other half of the shed is occupied by the horses with their shaggy manes rumpled and their heads resting on the necks of the other horses. But the most beautiful time of all on the old ranch is in the evening. As the sun sets, the horizon becomes gradually more pink and finally is suflfused with a wonderful red glow, shining through the ancient evergreen trees until it rests on the rippling flow of water known as Pirmez Creek, which becomes a beauti- ful, sparkling dispaly of rubies, singing its song gaily as it babbles on its way. In the pastures near by, the tinKle, tinkle of the cow-bells can be heard as the cattle nibble at the fresh green blades of grass, covered with sparkling drops of dew. On the other side of the stream the glossy coats of pretty, well-groomed ponies can be seen shining as the glow of the western sky rests on them and as the ponies nibble gently at whatever may come in their way. In the distance, the weird, far-off calls of the coyotes can be heard faintly. On returning to the Ranch House you come upon, the old hired man, sitting comfortably on an old apple box beside the garage door. He, too, is happy and smokes his pipe thoughtfully. The whole atmosphere seems to be filled with a pleasant peacefulness and happiness which makes life on the old Ranch seem beautiful despite all hard- ships. RUTH CARLYLE. Life on the Ocean Wave I ' m going to sail over the seas. In a ship that will weather the breeze, We ' ll sail to many a distant sand. And when we return you ' ll see us land. From our cargo of wonderful merchan- dise, We ' ll give you all marvels that you will prize, There ' ll be toys for the children, books for the old, Valuable presents we ought to have sold. There ' ll be barrels of cocoanuts, plucked ' from Ape4sle, And turbans from India marked for they ' re style. They ' ll be pigtails from China and gowns from Japan, Some pies, several cakes and a ginger- bread man. There ' ll be Indians ' feathers from Can- ada ' s coast. Of grapefruits from Cuba you ' ll find we ei ' .n boast, There ' ll be silks, furs and muslins from islands we ' ll see And lots of rich buns that well eat for our tea. As you watch us arrive, our ship heavy- laden. You ' ll see that the bow is adorned with a maiden, Her hair will blow out in the wind far and wide. And I will be standing up close by her side. C. P. BULL.

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The; Branksome: Si ogan 23 It was a travel-worn Georges that turned off the road into a copse of ever- greens a few minutes later. He continued on his unhurried way by a foot-path, leaving his pursuers the whole road, be- cause as he nonchalantly reminded him- self, They are in a far greater hurry than I am . A moment later, the last statement was verified, when he heard them galloping past. Georges ' tawny locks were clotted with dust, yet the faint glimmering of a smile stole across his sun-browned face, as he lazily swung a long leg over the pommel. When twi- light was descending upon a hushed world, towers and battlements slowly rose out of the distance, the roofs and gables gilded by the glory of the sunset. Georges ' dark eyes sought the spot, clear-cut against the eastern sky, and his glance softened as he gazed upon the en- circling walls and turrets which promised welcome. The Belgian Ranch A large ranch lies in the beautiful foothills of Alberta. It was built many years ago by a certain Lord Pirmez. But after a few years the old man died willing his farm to no one. As time passed on, the buildings were robbed of their red paint and left grey and life- less, and several of the sheds were tumbl- ing down. Nevertheless, the ranch is still very beautiful, for a clear, babbling brook finds its way through lovely green pastures, up to the old ranch buildmg, where it runs just a few rods from the house. Huge evergreen trees border the bank through the whole of its course, and small, rustic seats are situated under the largest of these near the ranch buildings. At the point where the brook runs nearest the house, a little bridge stretches from one bank to the other, and further down its course a large tree droops its branches over so far that they touch the other side, so that it makes a perfect crossing place for the little red squirrels which are seen work- ing and playing continually in the trees. A little to the east of the house, lie the horse stables, barns and sheds. The stables are placed in a long row, each one separated from the other by a low par- tition that does not quite reach the roof, so that all the stables are connected with each other by the opening at the top. On each stable door is painted in big grey letters the name of the horse or cow that is within. Jipp, Sukey, Pansy, Queen of Spades, Prince, Beauty, Madge, Tiny, Indian Maid, and Princess are some of the names posted. At the back of the stables, lies a huge barn that towers above all the other buildings, like a great mountain. If you enter through the small door at the side, you will find yourself in a great airy building. At one end you see a number of stalls for the big work-horses that toil with plough, mower and rake. A large passage-way is left between the two slid- ing doors for the big hay wagon, which separates these stables from a part of the barn which is filled almost to the roof with lovely fresh hay from the sunny hay fields. It is this that causes that lovely sweet odour to fiill your nostrils; it is this that makes the big building smell so fresh, clean and inviting, and it is this that makes you linger and sniff the air longingly. When you step from the door into the open you feel that there is nothing in the world that is so lovely and sweet-smelling as new-mown hay. A little way from the barn is a big red wooden gate connecting the ranch building with the plentiful pastures be- yond. Just at the left of the gate a

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The -Branksome: Slogan