Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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The Branksome Slogan 27 A Gondola Ride The train, which was due at eight o ' clock, was two hours late arriving in Venice, and so the stars were shining brightly when my friend and I finally descended the train steps and passed through the wicket out into the clear night air. We found ourselves standing on the dock, but there was little of the noise and bustle of the daytime. We arranged about our luggage and stepped into an open gondola. Soon we were floating on the Grand Canal with no sound save for the rippling of the water which was lapping against the sides of the boat. We came to a side canal through which we were to pass. ' ' Hoy , cried our gondolier, his vibrant voice ringing through the stillness and sending a thrill through us both. It was quite dark now and the stillness was so great, we were both awestruck. Suddenly we were awakened from our respective reveries by the deep, ringing voices of our gondolier and an acquaintance of his whom we were passing. After a short dispute over the right of way they parted and we passed on again into the tranquil solitude. A few more turnings brought us again into the Grand Canal, with the lights of our hotel shining in the distance. We had but to cross this body of water and we were again in the darkness and silence with the stars and the water for company. We had just begun to wish this journey would never end, when a sharp turn brought us to the dimly lighted doorway of our hotel. We were assisted out of the boat and with a wistful glance at the beauty of the night outside, we passed into the more common luxuries of our accommodations. DOROTHY JANE GOULDING, Form I B.

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The Land of the Tally-Ho and Haggis Burns sang the praise of the haggis but another feature which might well have its praises sung is the Scotch tally-ho, a coach-and-four which awaits us after an interesting trip up Loch Katrine in the small steamer Sir Walter Scott . On Loch Katrine we saw Ellen ' s Isle and other places which Scott immortalized in his poem The Lady of the Lake . Now, as we drive along in this old-fashioned tally-ho drawn by four horses, we see beautiful scenes to store in the mind as those most typical of Scotland. As in olden times, the driver of the tally-ho wears a red coat and sits on a high front seat, while a coach-boy stands on the low step at the back. Travelling up hill and down dale in this beautiful Trossach district, we occa- sionally come across a Scotch piper. Sometimes these pipers have with them a small child who dances the Highland Fling, stopping abruptly at the first sign of money being thrown to him. As we pass along, we see the mountains or Bens and on the hillsides, shaggy mountain sheep grazing upon the sparse grass, while down some of these same hills trickles an occasional stream of water from the crags — these are found to end near the age-old peat-bogs from which the Highlanders still get their fuel. Arriving at Inversnaid, we pause to admire Ben Lomond looming up above Loch Lomond wrapt in a purple mist. A little later as our eyes rest for a moment on the road we have just travelled over, we see our tally-ho, which we have just dismissed, slowly wending its way back through the picturesque hills. Just as the traveller remembers the jaunting car of Ireland, he associates the tally-ho with Scotland. The Scots themselves seem to prefer the haggis as a favourite tradition, but I think that most of Scotland ' s visitors enjoy even more, memories of driving among the hills covered with bonny heather where history and legend are refreshed by the aid of the old tally-ho . MARY PERCY, Form I B. 26

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28 The Branksome Slogan THE HUNT The red-gold leaves were falling Upon the autumn ground, Far off the hunters calling To many a barking hound. Then through the woods like light- ning There ran a stately deer, His graceful antlers shining. So soon to disappear. And still the graceful beast ran on, O ' er hills and over brook The pack they followed close behind But ne ' er he stopped to look. At last the deer reached safety. Then hours in sleep he spent And far behind him stood the pack, For they had lost the scent. ANN GOODERHAM, Form I B. An Historic Church When one gets off the boat at Digby, Nova Scotia, an historic old white church can be seen at Clementsport, twelve miles away. In fact, many years ago, when there was more navigation on the Annapolis River than there is now, the captains of the ships used this beautiful church as a landmark. The old church, high up on the hill , is framed very beautifully with evergreen trees. Surrounding it are many quaint old grave-stones, some of which are over three hundred years old. It was built by Dutch and German Loyalists and was originally Lutheran and called The Church of St. Edward . When it was transferred to the Church of England, a condition was made that a hymn in the Dutch language should be sung every Sunday morning before the beginning of the regular service. This was done until only two were left to sing, with aged voices, the hymns of the Fatherland. Dr. Frederick Boehne, who died in 1818, willed the bell and the communion plate to the church, and these are still in use. The ancient bass viol, which furnished the instrumental music, is preserved, as are also some of the Dutch psalm-books. The architecture of the old church is Norman, with round-topped windows and doors, and arched ceiling. The timbers are massive and the width of the boards used is a surprise to the modern builders. The pews are of the old square type with doors, hand-made hinges, and nails were used on the roof. There is one room in the church set aside for a museum and here one can see many old and quaint articles. There are steps built up to the top of the bell-tower where one can view the country for miles around. This church is of great interest to all visitors and attracts crowds every summer. ELEANOR SMITH, Form IV B.