Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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20 The Branksome Slogan An Unexpected Ducking One of my favourite occupations has always been to build rafts. Each year the rafts have become a little sturdier, a little more practical, until now they are reasonably safe, but one of my earlier attempts nearly ended in disaster. The day was pleasantly warm when my sister Pat, her friend Chris and I set out for the river a few hundred feet from our cottage. In spite of the niild weather, bits of ice were still whirling down stream carried by the current of the early spring floods. By dint of hard labour we succeeded in putting together a rather wobbly raft, and with much grunting, groaning and pushing, launched it. Pat and Chris thought it would be best for me to try the frail craft first. Nothing loathe to show them I was not afraid, I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my breeches and gingerly climbed aboard, carefully keeping my weight on my pole. So far so good; it floated. I started off but before I had gone far I came to a shallow spot. I called to Pat and Chris to help me and we pushed and dragged the raft to deeper waters. Once more I clambered aboard. The current became swifter, the ice and water swirled around my feet; and I was unknowingly at the mercy of the river. Suddenly, I saw before me a long, leaning stump standing about three feet above the water. Towards this the current drew me. Frantically I plied my pole but the strength of the current soon wrenched it from my grasp. I about to sit down on the raft when, looking down, I saw that it was partially submerged and that if I sat down I should get decidedly wet. felt that I was now too near the stump for the safety of my head and was Only one alternative remained, and that was to seize hold of the stump, and thus to slacken my speed, so that I could bend down to avoid the obstacle. I reached the stump and grasped it frantically but the current was too swift. My make-shift craft rolled on while I made frenzied efforts to pull myself on to the top of the stump; but, to my horror, I felt it loosen. Then my thoughts flew to the raft and I shouted excitedly to Chris, telling her to take a short-cut and catch it at the bend just beyond. Pat, meanwhile, tried to wade out to me but stopped in dismay when she discovered that the water was too deep. I shivered as I thought of the cold bath I would have to take. One, two, three, go! I dropped. The water closed over my head and I sank. Then desperately I struck out for the surface and for shore. I climbed up on the bank of the river much dampened both in body and spirits, but otherwise none the worse for my adventure. DOROTHY HOYLE, Form II A.

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THE HERALD OF SPRING A little elf on the top of the hill, Stands up straight and oh, so still. As though awaiting an urgent call To be repeated to one and all. He holds a trumpet in one hand, And with it he points across the land. Soft musical notes float faintly near So forward he bends sweet strains to hear. A joyous look spreads o er his face ; Once more he stands up in his place. He is sounding notes both pure and clear. Spreading the news that spring is here ! DOROTHY HOYLE, Form II A. NOTHING IN EXCESS Oh school it is a merry place for those who like work, But school it is a cruel place for us poor folks who shirk. And though I try so hard (it ' s true!) my Latin daily sinks, And as for Mathematics, they do make my brain to shrink. With Grammar, French and Algebra the teachers struggle madly To extricate us from the mire of work that ' s done too badly. The moral of this rhyme will be, as you no doubt will guess. The motto of the wise old Greeks, ' tis, Nothing in Excess . NANCY TYRRELL, Form III A. 19 Kn«n

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THE WEEPING PRINCESS There are millions of stamps In hundreds of places In various colours With different faces. Of one little stamp There ' s a sweet little story Of wee Princess Beth Wrapped up in her glory. It shows her dear face All coloured in green A one-cent Canadian. But isn ' t it mean? A tiny wee tear drop, A printer ' s mistake, Appears in an odd one Though it isn ' t a fake. Too bad to be weeping With this little tear Especially when issued In Jubilee Year. And now all collectors Are hoping and praying That they ' ll find one some day To make their collection A greater success With the little green picture Of The Weeping Princess . PAMELA PEARSE, Form III A. THE SEASONS Summer, summer is gone. Now, The hum of bees, The murmuring trees, And the workman ' s song at his plough. Autumn has come and past. Red Leaves, the colour of hearts That have known sweet sorrow, and bled. Winter is here at last. Winter is here for a time. Cold- Whistling wind like a warrior bold- Ice, hail and snow. But that, too, will go. Spring is yet to come. Blue Clear skies of brighter hue — And green wet grass while flowers bloom Colour and Life — glad Spring anew. SUSAN D. GOULDING, Form II A. 21