Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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The Branksome Slogan 29 C0l The Basketball Team. The Illumination Shafts of silver, Shafts of gold, Rose and purple Lingering hold; White rushing waters. Deep roaring falls. Amber and turquoise Lighting up all. Piercing crystal, Through the night. Lights the falling Waters bright; Fast tumbling rapids Onward they roll. Lights gayly playing, Have falls a soul? WILMA BATE.

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28 The Branksome Slogan A Bull Fight In the West Indies, especially in Pana- ma, bull-fights seem to be quite as com- mon as our game of rugby. As I was visiting Panama in the season of bull- fights, I decided to see one and judge for myself how cruel it really was, or whether it was much worse than rugby after all. Grasping my ticket in one hand and my precious Spanish translation in the other, I was finally shown my seat by one of the ushers, who seemed to under- stand my poor Spanish. Gazing around me with interest, my eyes fell upon the entrance into the ring of a black carriage drawn by four white horses, which came to a stand at a beau- tifully decorated box; this, I thought, must be some great personage of title. Then as the cheering arose, I saw the Governor-General of Panama step out of the carriage, followed by his family. The arrival of the Governor-General must have been the signal for the en- trance of the Toreador, for he entered the ring a moment later, and was greeted by a great shouting from the people. I was more anxious to see the entrance of the bull, and turned my gaze to where it entered by means of two heavily barred doors, which shut the bull in a small ring, while the Toreador entered. With a wave of the Toreador ' s flag, the barred doors opened and as quickly as I could see it happen, the bull was half way across the ring, charging the Toreador with all its might. I was about to scream to warn the Toreador of the bull ' s approach, but my cry died in my throat as I saw the Toreador leap lightly to the side, as the bull passed him. The next few minutes I seemed to be living in a nightmare as bull and man fought and dodged each other with skil- ful ease. The bull now seemed to be tiring of its fruitless efforts to down its antagonist, gave a mighty roar, which made my blood freeze, and leapt at the Toreador, taking him unawares. He fell to the ground bleeding, while the bull saw another chance to crush him with his dangerous horns. I noticed the Toreador, cut and bleed- ing, slowly rise to a sitting position, and reach for a small dagger hidden in his belt, and as the bull lunged towards him, he plunged the dagger with all his strength between its forelegs. The bull, with a dying roar, once more tried his attack, but another mighty plunge of the dagger, directed at his heart, caused a groan and thud to follow, and, as the bull fell to its death, the Toreador fell unconscious to the ground. I stumbled away from the ghastly scene, as quickly as I possibly could, be- ing now well convinced that I would rather see a thousand rugby games than try and look pleased and excited at a bull fight. Thus I left the gruesome scene behind, feeling that I could never see a bull again without becoming death- ly ill. HELEN MURRAY.

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30 The Branksome Slogan Champlain A gentle knight pricked o ' er the plain. A warrier known as Champlain, Tracing Iroquois, A bold man, n ' est ce pas? For to win feather caps he ' d fain. He found the red man on the shore. Hoped they ' d trouble him no more. His harquebus fired — The red men seemed tired; Some fell — while others made war. St. Croix is a fine little place, But not for a colony race. Why, Sam, you ' re some soldier, But I could have told yer, Said Marc, ' It ' s no settlement ace! The third of July, sixteen-eight, Was a day when Champlain used his pate. He sailed by the river, Not waiting to dither. And founded Quebec, sans debate. That posterity might his name know, He voyaged through sleet and through snow. And to Lake Champlain Gave his famous French name. The lake where the cool breezes blow! Champlain was papa to New France, They say he ' d a life of romance; But one truth I can find In a tale of this kind; He married Helene in a trance I C. BULL.