Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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The Bkanksome Slogan 23 A Word for the West You may sing of the joys of the city, You may tell of its gay thoughtless throng ; You may picture the countless amusemxents, The nights spent in revel and song. But give me a home on the prairie, Far away from all bustle and care; A home in God ' s wide open spaces. And contented I ' ll spend my life there. The howl of the coyote is music To the old pioneer in his shack ; It reminds him of days long since vanished. Of a time that will never come back. Tliere was a day when this pioneer Had hopes of a home of his own ; Where the girl of his choice, as in stories, Would reign as a queen on her throne. But one day rude death reached his hangout And claimed this fair flower for his own; And a lonely and heart-broken lover Was left in this hard world alone. And tonight on the steps of his cabin. Alone ' neath the glimmering stars. He thinks of his sweetheart in heaven And the glory that death never mars. And he yodels a tune, an old love song, And he lists to the coyote ' s wild cry. And he knows that some day up in heaven With his sweetheart he ' ll be, bye and bye. And he thanks the good God for the prairie. For its solitude, grandeur, and rest, And contented he waits for the summons To enter the home of the blest. LOUISE STEWART (Form IV C).

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22 The Branksome Slogan A Swiss Wood-Carving Shop The film ' Tinnochio, held a particular interest for me because I once spent a very pleasant afternoon in Lucerne, Switzerland, in just such an atmosphere of amusing wood carvings. Instead, however, of Pinnochio, the puppet, who came to life, my little shop had for its heroes the favourite Swiss characters, William Tell, and his son. As I entered the door, a soft, musical tinkle greeted my ears. I soon discovered that the sound was coming from a music-box concealed in a fruit bowl, the lid of which had been lifted by the enterprising shop-keeper, on sighting a customer. There were many boxes and bowls which played delightful tunes and 1 was interested to learn that these music-makers are made chiefly in Cianton Vaud. I examined many carved bears, dogs, cats, horses, goats, and so on, but always returned to one little brown bear, which stood only about half an inch high, but its paws, ears, and facial characteristics were in- credibly clear. Its little back and tail had tiny ridges which gave an ap- pearance of hair while the beed-like eyes seemed almost human. I quickly paid for the little fellow and soon had a tiny parcel which was almost lost in the palm of my hand. I turned next to a table displaying gaily-coloured wooden, dwarf -like figures, and decided on an amusing little old man, perched on a carved napkin-ring. He wore ' a bright red cap and had a broad smile above his long white beard. A tiny wooden bowl and spoon were placed on his knee and he examined the contents of his bow l with apparent delight. The shopkeeper told me something about the people who canned these masterpieces. Most of the carving is done by humble folk who live in small huts, or chalets among the mountains. The carvers live quietly and simply and spend the long winters at their delicate work. Once or twice a year they descend to the towns in the valleys. Having carefully packed the work which they so laboriously carved and var- nished, they don their neat peasant clothes, pack simple lunches of bread and cheese and start out at dawn on their long trek. I spent several hours in this small shop and made many purchases. As I look back I feel that it was one of the most interesting features of my visit to Switzerland. MARY PERCY (FormVSp.).

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24 The Branksome Slogan LESBIA ' S SPARROW (Suggested by Catullus) A little bird sat on a limb, And chirped, and chirped, with glee. A lady sat and listened there Her pet, the bird, was gay and free. It hopped about, now here, now there. It sang to her alone. For it was sweet and good, I know. But now its soul has flown. For Orcus came with all his might. A curse upon thy gloomy shades! It hops now, down the road of death, And into darkness fades. The lady mourns but sheds no tear, Her sparrow ' s life is through I hope when I am dead and gone She ' ll say, ' T loved him too. KATHERINE WHITEHEAD (Form IV A) . HERE ' S WHERE QUEBEC BEGINS Here where the snows lie a little deeper, Here where the hills are a little steeper. Here ' s where Quebec begins ; Here where the skating is a real thrill While skiing usually ends in a spill, Where, coming home, you must climb a hill, Here ' s where Quebec begins. Here where the ancient citadel stands Where Champlain came to claim our lands. Here ' s where Quebec begins; Here where the gallant Montcalm fell. Whose valiant soldiers served him well; It was not his fault this thing be- fell, Here ' s where Quebec begins. Here where we ' re willing to help one another, Where nothing ' s too much to do for the other, Here ' s where Quebec begins; Here where there ' s always a little more play. Where, if you came you would want to stay, Where everyone ' s heart is forever gay, Here ' s where Quebec begins. JEAN SEIFERT (Form II A).