Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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The Branksome Slogan 21 we writers are. Nor can you know of the charm of Stratford. I ' ll never forget the dank, crumbling cellars of Kenilworth, nearby, where we would play make-believe for hours on end as boys. And I ' ll always remember the honest old farmers. I ' ll tell you, you can get a wealth of knowledge from them that you could never find in any classroom. Behind all their gossip and vulgarity a profound poetry is sleeping. Beaumont: Richard Corbett, you old devil, come over and join us. Whatever is that strange-looking derelict with you? Another of your practical jokes? The whole city is still laughing about you masquerading as a ballad singer and raking in a fine profit — and you a minister, too ! Corbett: (Laughing) Here ' s a sui ' prise for you all. This man, my friend, is a ship-wrecked sailor who w as given up for lost for over a year. Ben Jonson: Where ' s he been, Richard? Corbett: On some islands called the Be rmudas, apparently for ten whole months. He ' s been telling me all about them. They ' re myster- ious islands, full of weird, unknown sounds and strange magic. Sir Francis Bacon: Have a drink, son. You must have conjured up a fine thirst on your ' ' Magical Islands. Ben Jonson : Will, why do you look so odd ? Shakespeare: A storm — shipwreck — a haunted island full of inex- plicable noises. The Tempest (in a frenzy of excitement), I have it. It shall be called ' The Tempest. Boy, be at the Black- friar Theatre early tomorrow morning. You ' ll be rewarded for your trouble. (The clock strikes two A.M.) Ben Jonson: Well — I, for one, am off to bed. Tomorrow will be a heavy day for me. I ' m taking young Herrick to court to show him how a masque is produced. I ' m doing it for His Majesty ' s birthday. Goodnight, Annie, my love. f Beaumont and Fletcher: We ' ll be going along, too. Goodnight, Ben. Goodnight.

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20 The Branksome Slogan Sir Harry: Gently, gently, Ben. Why so thoughtful, Will? Shakespeare: I ' ve just been thinking of my last visit with Anne in Stratford. You know, lads, I believe I ' ll be moving there soon for good. Sir Harry : Odds fish ! In the country ! When your plays and sonnets are the delight of London ! Do you want to have grunting sows for kindred spirits, then ? Man, you must be mad ! Shakespeare: Good old Sir Harry. You have the true Londoner ' s atti- tude about the country, haven ' t you? I love London, too— the excitement, the bustle, the glamour of it. It ' s a vital part of my life. But none of you can realize the richness and serenity of the life of a gentleman farmer. He is a man of esteem in Warwichshire ; he isn ' t looked on with suspicion and contempt as GRADUATING CLASS Front Riow — Prefects: B. Pattison, H. Parry, P. Stewart, J. Peat, J. Plaunt, L. Landrith, J. Bradfield, A. McCoy. D. Griffith. 2nd! Row — G. Fisher, J. Chalmers, P. Clark, E. Busk, M. Cobban, E. Capener, P. Bell-Irvine. P. McConnell, M. J. Hall. M. Whyte 3rd Row — T. Woodward, S. Browne. P. Ctowie, M. Smith, E. Tustine. P. Eshelby. M. Heintzman, J. Trethewey, G. Millar. 4th Row — R. Miller. M. Powell. E. Henderson, I. Hyams, E. Winter, M. Hanson, Z. Friedman, E. Cobb, E. Fleming, G. Tyler. 5th Row — N. Emory. M. Jones, D. Mansell. B. Baalim, M. McCulloch, M. Dodds. M. J. Phelan, M. Schwartz. J. Cameron. 6th Row— T. Rogers, M. L. Gillies. M. Bell, S. Peterkin, J. Murray, N. Rendell, F. Coulter, C. Cooper, H. Edwards. 7th Row — I. Grant, M. Gauchat, M. Winston, M. Stcbie, G. Hen- derson, G. Co ' Ckburn, B. Jack. E. Scarlett. M. Sloan, J. Riddell.

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22 The Branksome Slogan Sir Harry: Goodnig-ht. Pleasant dreams. (Exit he and Sir Francis Bacon.) Richard Corbett: Goodnight Jacko and Will. (Exit.) Annie: Mr. Will, sir. ' Ere ' s a whole pile of your manuscripts that you left ' ere last night. It ' s a shame the way you leave ' em lying about. Now if I wrote nice plays like you, would I leave ' em sitting a ' bout to be swept into any ' h ' ash can ? Not Annie. Shakespeare: (Laug ' hing) Thank you, Annie. Goodnight. (Exit.) Jacko: (Clearing- up the room and muttering to himself.) Balmy, the whole lot of ' em — that ' s what I say. One minute they ' re friends, the next they ' re foes, they drink and make it up, and so it goes on. Penniless yesterday, throwing guineas away tomorrow, and caroiusing night after night when decent folk should be in bed. They ' re queer, alrig ' ht! Well, they get me my business, so I ' ll not complain. Blow out the candles, Annie, before you come to bed. (The gong sounds once again, bringing us back from that scene of long ago.) Voice: What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that everyone from whence they came Had merely to put his whole life in a jest. PATRICIA ROGERS ' ' Off to the Trail