Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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18 The Branksome Slogan THE RO I was dusting, cleaning, sweeping. Working hard from morn till even- ing, On the front door came a rapping. Pausing for a moment only, I left my brooms and left my dusters. Walking to the door, and peering outward, I spied a brazen, shiny figure, Standing, gleaming in the sunlight. Feeling faint, I grabbed the door- knob. And stood amazed at this object. Gathering up my courage slowly Read its dangling, hanging, label, ' ' Hope this saves you time and trouble. On and on I read the message Claiming it a useful Robot, A servant Robot from my mother For to scrub and scour the wood- ■ work. Make the beds and do the cooking. Beat the rugs and wash the win- dows. Clean the cupboards, do the dust- ing. Oh, dear Mother, how I thank you For this badly needed helper! In I brO ' Ug ' ht it from the dooirstep. Wound the handle, set the gadgets So to make my bed and tidy All my room and all my clothing. I lay down upon my divan Waiting, watching o ' er my Robot.. Working hard throughout my bed- room. Resting, dozing, sleeping, dream- ing. 3T MAID A thundering, crashing, rumbling, rolling. Ripping, crushing, bolting, shak- ing. Woke me from my deepest slum- ber. I started, stared, and jumping up- ward, I dashed towards the vicious mon- ster, Tried to stop it from its break- ing And destruction of my vases, Of my pictures; of my tables. Of my clothes and of my wood- work. Picking up my silver hairbrush, I smote the Robot on the forehead. Down it fell — the engine stopped; Out the door I cast the Robot, For the salvage, for the junkman. Oh, dear Mother, if you only Knew how helpful was the Robot (To the salvage, to the junk- man!) I can tell you, I will never Want to use another Robot. Never! Never! Never! Never! BEVERLEY RUSH, Form IV. M. Watson: Hullo, is this the City Bridge Depart- ment? Answer: ' ' Yes. M. Watson : How many points do you get for a little slam?

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The Branksome Slogan 17 The orders, and their repetitions, by the non-commissioned officers, could be heard echoing. The lieutenant was tense; the torpedo men sweating. ' ' Check your aim! ' ' Check your aim! Ready! Ready! Torpedo 1,2,3! Torpedo 1, 2, eS! Fire! Fire! Through the periscope, the lieutenant watched the proud, arrogant cruiser making her stately way through the waves, when, suddenly, an explosion rocked both sub and ship — then another, and another Three towering flames shot into the sky; superstructure crumpled, wreckage was hurled into the air, and the mighty ship sank. Ojf for a Canter With less excitement, the command to surface was given and the thin craft rose through the waves. Boats were launched to pick up any survivors, although the undersea craft had completed its task so thor- oughly that the procedure was hardly necessary. Be quick aibout the business, for you never know what might come along, said the lieutenant. He turned to Kramer. War is hell ; what if that were us? Enough, it is kill or ' be killed. Look! There ' s the ship ' s flag. However did it escape being blown to shreds? Get it; a souvenir like that isn ' t found every day. Kramer pulled the flag over the side, the flag of the torpedoed enemy ship— the Stars and Stripes. GRETCHEN GAEBELEIN, Form V.

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The Branksome Slogan 19 CUTHBERT CATERMOLE With steady tread, he roams at will From room to room and takes his fill Of sweet repose on downy spreads, And sheds his fur on feather beds. His piebald fur, grey, white and brown, Is wiry fur, not silky down. And he, a common alley-cat, When not in quest of mouse or rat. Fools not, but plays a haughty role Befitting Cuthbert Catermole. Broad in the beam, his shoulders wide With bowlegged spread, his feline stride Resembles more a bull dog gait Than any cat less blessed by fate. Imperious and proud, no fool — Without degrees he owns the school. Oh, why must we both fret and strain With French and Spanish, wrack our brain. When cats can win in such a role. As that of Cuthbert Catermole? MARY CRAIG, Form IV. AUTUMN The trees are aflame with barbar- ous hue, Brilliant sunlight drinks up the dew. I pick up the leaves as I go past And rejoice that Autumn is here at last. Wind-swept skies are high and new; White canvas sails on a sea of blue ; Arrows of geese in honking flight, Bugle the coming of Winter ' s might. I stand on a hill in a thoughtful trance. Thankful of having this wonderful chance To drink in the glories of Autumn ' s morn. And watch new beauties of Nature born ! ELIZABETH McCARTHY, Form V. A WISH If only I a nymph could be Then I would go beneath the sea, I ' d walk among the tangled weeds ; From pearls I ' d make a string of beads. From shells a tiny crown. And from the foam, a bed of down. ANNE GODSALL, Form III.