Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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The Branksome Slogan ' ' He can ' t last much longer, the master says now. We ' ve been going six hours — to the hounds he must bow. But still the tired horses steadily pound, ' Till at last there ' s a break — ' ' he ' s gone right to ground! The hounds are all raging in front of his den ; There is grunting and cussing from master and men. Bring the terrier! Do something! they earnestly plead; We can ' t leave it like ihis; the huntsmen concede. They send for the farmer, a round jolly man; He brings the terrier in a little green van. Rob snuffles and burrows ; The field gives a shout, Good little fellow! He ' s dragged the fox out! Mask and brush, to the foremost pair in the field ; Blooding to newcomers who reluctantly yield; To leave at the last, there ' s a feeling of sorrow ; But ' twas an adventure to talk of to-morrow. SHIRLEY MANN, Form T.

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30 The Branksome Slogan the spot ; never again under any circumstances w ould they attempt to cook another meal aJboard. At this particular moment the captain of the crew entered, fresh from an invigorating swim and enquired as to the source of the delay. Mutiny is a strong word but compared to what ensued, it lacks vigour and force. The captain ' s personality, the desirability of the boat, and the slave labour problem were gone into to great and most uncompli- mentary lengths. The captain was a man of discretion. Did he drive his mutinous crew below, did he threaten them in the time honoured manner? He did not. With diplomacy born of long acquaintance our commanding officer suggested a meal ashore. In a time too short to mention, Mother, Dad and yours truly were entering the hotel to do irreparable damage to the best on the menu. JEANNE GARROW, Form III A Good Day ' s Hunt The stable smells fresh — the air ' s snappy to-day; The horses are stomping and sniffing their hay. In a moment the master walks in. At last He jumps on his hunter, ' ' White Gallant, so fast. The horses are prancing and sniffing the air ; One shies at old ' ' Bellman and young Lady Fair . The huntsman cries Come on ! Away let us go ! For there ' s a fox to be hunted, come rain, or come snow! The old hounds start casting, the young hounds run gay — ' ' Yoo-ee, cries the huntsman, over there, he ' s away! Old Bellman gives tongue, and the field follows after — Even Josephas Gray on his horse, Happy Laughter! Over jumps, over creeks, over ditches and hollows, Over fence, over hedges, and sand dunes they follow; First a check, then away again, over and through — The fox dodges and tries all the tricks he can do.

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32 The Branksome Slogan The Ultimate The Condemned The gray light of early morning seeped through the high, narrow slit of a window which lit his prison cell. Its dreary light was almost as unbearable as the enveloping darkness of the night he had thought would never end. In the space of one sleepless night he had reviewed his entire brief existence. Every emotion, each fear, hope and dream had faded into the material world of memories, this, now, was reality. His senses were dulled, he went limp at the thought of what tie must face that morning. Into the few hours of life he had left he must cram thoughts of happier days — happy, sad, gay and silly, pitiful fragments of a broken life. He must treasure each memory, and force away this overpowering consciousness of the Verdict. He would try to forget that in a few hours they would take him away to be executed for a murder he had not committed. He fought against a bitter hatred towards the un- known guilty man in whose place he must die. He wondered if his wife would be allowed to say goodbye, if she would come. It would be hard to die without a last memory of her. A wave of depression settled upon him. The Guilty There was another sleepless man in the city that night. Even a man sunk low in crime has a semblance of a conscience, even a murderer. For this was the guilty man, facing a decision. He lit another cigarette with shaking fingers. He was no coward, that was impossible in his business. His carefully constructed plan had miscarried, now another life, that of an innoc ent man, was at stake. It was almost daylight now. The misty gray sky was fused with a rosy glow. Here in his apartment he was safe from everything but his conscience. If he left the building and found himself on the street, could he stop himself from making his way, eventually, to confess his crime? He must not drive himself into such a state. He must get away be- fore his nerves snapped. Perhaps a few months abroad— he must make some arrangements immediately. He flung himself onto the bed and slept. When he awoke it was mid morning. There was no doubt in his mind now as to what he must do. He dressed slowly and fortified him-