Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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YEAR BOOK, 1959 Page 21 SENIOR CHOIR REPORT Under wonderful leadership, the Senior Choir, this year, has brought many honours to Branksome. Beginning in September, the seventy seven of us would gather together every week in Buccleugh House to practice songs for our forthcoming Carol Service in December. This year at our service we sang such songs as, How Far is it to Bethlehem? and, ' Lo How a Rose, and many of the traditional Christ- mas carols. On February 18th we competed at the Kiwanis Festival. We sang two songs, one was ' ' La Fuite de la Lune, and the other, ' 1 Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. We were thrilled to hear that we had come first with 86%. In early April, we will be singing at a Teacher ' s Convention at North Toronto Collegiate and later this spring we will give a concert to end the year. Our thanks are extended to Mrs. Coutts for her patient guidance and to our accompanist. Miss Lea. President — Carole Tovell. Vice-President — Diana Style. Secretary — Barbara French. CHOIR EXECUTIVE Carole Tovell (President, Senior Choir), Barbara French (Secretary-Treasurer, Senior Choir), Diana Style (Vice-President, Senior Choir). Sitting: Christine Husband (President, Junior Choir).

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Page 20 THE BRANKSOME SLOGAN THE TUNNEL It was Monday when he first heard the voices ; voices that were thick, and distant and blurred, as if they came from a long way off, through a long, long tunnel perhaps. Today was Wednesday, and Robert became annoyed as he felt the singing in his ears that always preceded the weird cries. This time they seemed almost to be crying, they pleaded so desperately. It is not too late! Tell the world. Tell someone ; tell anyone. Robert laughed, loudly and hoarsely, and cruelly. Today was the day the voices had told him the world was to end. What had they said exactly? He struggled to remember, for his mind was old and dim. A meeting of the Outer Planetary Commission Board. A meeting to discuss Earth. Too many wars, too many bombs, too many cruel empty people. Could not be allowed to remain. He laughed again. Just as we burn the garbage we think clutters our world, he thought, so other worlds. . . . But the bitter taste of this idea sobered him. He tried hard to remem- ber what else the voices had said, for somehow it all seemed desperately important to him now. Why had he heard them speak and no one else? His mind had wandered that morning two days ago, as it often had lately. His poor slow mind, weakened further by age. But that day his thoughts had stumbled across a tunnel — hollow and vaste, black and yet white. How had they explained it? A thought tunnel. A projection of thought waves. They had been searching for someone. Anyone. Someone to tell. Someone who would warn the others and perhaps save them. But minds were closed, and empty and dark. Busy minds, and clut- tered. When they had searched out Robert, their waves of thought were not rejected. He had heard them call through the tunnel. Save mankind! Tell your people. There is a chance they will understand, and change. They must understand. He must try. Try. Try! Their only hope! Robert began to laugh again, wildly, insanely. If he kept his secret, if he did not tell anyone, later today everyone would vanish. Disappear! The old landlady could no longer nag for the next rent payment; the little black and white dog would no longer nip his heels. And with all the force of conviction he could muster, which was difficult, for the voices were very loud now, he cried out that Man was not worth saving, that life was a cruel and pointless joke, and that it might be better if it all were finished, and someone could start all over again. He would never tell! The force of all this struggle had wearied him, and he turned and stumbled off, and was gone. And later that day everything, his landlady, the nasty little dog, and the whole city, the world, everything was gone too. KADY MacDONALD, VA.

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Page 22 THE BRANKSOME SLOGAN Committee — Lorna Luke, Martha Corrigan, Dianne Grove, Jennifer Holbrook, Heather Waldie, Carene Smith, Isabel Miller. CAROL SERVICE And still they come each year To hear a flood of surging song poured fourth From amateurish voices Silvered now by deep defeire to please. And still they come and fill each place. And stand against the darkened wall, And listening, watch; And joy again in the spirit of Christmas, Warmed by the children ' s voices. Lightened by the shining faces. Do you see my Julia where she stands Singing with such a will? Only one of many making Christmas cheer. Creating atmosphere, under the guidance Of a practiced hand. The thirty-third Annual Carol Service of Branksome opened with twelve beautifully blended voices singing ' 0 Little Town Of Bethlehem . The delicate notes died away giving place to the gay, joyous carols sung by the Junior school. An international flavour was added by carols from France, Norway and old Bohemia. A noticeable change of atmosphere attended the procession of the Senior Choir. They continued the programme with carols mostly un- accompanied such as Lo, How A Rose and Quem Pastores . The massed voices of the Senior School ended this memorable pro- gramme on a note of exaltation with a resounding ' ' Gloria In Excelsis Deo.