Earl Grey School - Triangle Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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THE FI air FOH LEADERSHIP A QUIET SUNDAY WITH MOTHER »Jack was visiting his uncle in Alber- ta. His uncle had a very large cattle ranch. One day he was out riding with the other ran ch hands ' going to get th e c a t tl e fo r b ran di n g. He saw a mother cow with her yearling cal 1 runn in g th ro ugh a ravine. ‘I’ll get them, ’ he exclaimed! Off he dashed after the cow and her yearling calf. He followed them through a maze of rocks and gullies. Du t suddenly they disappeared He went a- round the bend in the trail and there be¬ fore his eyes was a great waterfall. Where had they gone? They certainly couldn’t have gone up the waterfalls. Then he saw a small opening behind the falls. He got off his horse and quickly ran through the opening. There was a tun¬ nel leading downard. Jack decided to follow it. Down and down he went. Soon it was get tin glighter. Su ddenly he heard the shrill spine-chilling neigh of a wild s tall ion. lie came out in a vast canyon with beautiful tall pines, and a fresh, clear brook that seemed to come out of nowhere. Then he saw them. They were a band o f horses bays, blacks, brow ns, greys, pintos and ail sorts of horses. But above all of them on a little shelf was a beautiful white stallion who had magnificent porpor- tions that fitted him like a T’. Anybody could tell he was the kingof this band of ho rses. hut suddenly, piercing the cold still¬ ness came a neigh that was j ust as strong as the one Jack just heard. It came from a beautiful red stallion who shone like a brilliant star. He was standing about five-h indred yards away. Suddenly lhe was ruining right to wards the white stallion The white stallion herded the horses to¬ gether and ran them over against the canyon wal 1. There was going to be a fight for leadership. Both stallions met out on the green grass. Slowly they circled each other. Then the- red stallion lunged. But the white stallion deftly sidestepped and planted two powerful hind legs in the red stallion’s ribs. The red stallion came back quickly. Both horses went up on their hind legs and started to bite and slash each other. Soon both horses were cut and bleeding and almost exhausted. But sudden¬ ly the red stallion slipped and fell. The red stallion was down! The white stallion was quick to press his advantage. With flashing hooves he swept in pumelling the red stal 1 lonwith blow after blow. Sudden¬ ly the red stallion was still. The white stallion was still master and lord of his ban d. Jack completely forgot about the cow and her yearling calf. Quickly he ran back to th e other ran ch h aids. Roy wh a t a s to ry he ' d have to tell! Garry Lahoda Grade VI I , Room 27 The Gordon house is resting. It is midday, and since it is also Sunday, Mother is relaxing for the first time since the Sunday before. Brother Butch is playing outside. Suddenly, with feminine intuition, long-suffering Mother senses a rather omi¬ nous ring in this queer silence. The Gor¬ don household is usually booming with bed¬ lam. There is always a too-loud radio, or Butch screaming at the tppofhis lungs (I think he’s destined to he an opera singer) or my two young sisters quarrelling over the ownership of the paper. We never have a d ul 1 mom en t! hesignedly, Mother rises and walks to the door. Opening it, she calls several times; ‘Butch, Butch.’ But only silence greets her ears. Something is wrong. Out of the door and do wn the walk by the side of the house, Mother wends her way. And there, before her eyes, is her angelic four-year old son. ‘Hi, Mom.’ he says, as he continues busily digging a hole at the house foundation, working as in¬ dustriously as a laborer who is going to receive his ‘pot of gold’ at the end of the day. But one moment; Where is the mud of his labours? Uh - Oh - ! The basement win¬ dow is open. Oh - No? Ob, yes, you’ ve guessed it! Butch has heaved all the mud which he has dug right into the basement. There it lies, in one great, sticky heap. Another job for Mother! While Mother is trying to recover, Butch has gone flying down the street like a house afire, yelling (true to form) - ‘No, no. Mommy, please don’t hit me! ’ The scandalized neighbours, so severely jolted in their Suiday righteousness immediately surmised that here was a woman who beat her son! (Oh that poor, dear little lamb.)

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HANDS Baby hands, so dainty white, Upon the pillow in th e n i gh t, Delicate and tiny; helpless there, Delicate and tiny; helpless there, Children’s hands, with mud pies stained, With cuts and scratches often pained. Exploring, learning all the day, Of the strange new world and the Way. He is coming towards us now to drive me back to my home, but you are far richer than I am, you know. ’ ‘Ah,’ said the hobo, 4 why do you people always give us that line. You make me sick. What do you mean? how am I richer than you?’ ‘Well,’ said the old gentleman, as his caauffeur took his arm, ‘you see, I ' m bl in d. Stranger hands, maturing fast, Children’s fancies now gone past, Busy in sport and delights of youth, Seeking knowledge , life, and truth. Working hands, sewing, mending. Young lives entrusted to their tending. Carefully shaping, smoothing, molding. The delicate clay that they are holding. Aged hands, most beautiful of all, Clasped in prayer at evening call; Each line and wrinkle etched by life. Speaks of Service and Sacrifice. Barbara Gray Gra de IX, Room 13 The church clock struck on a lovely May morning, and in a small park nearby, spring was in all its glory. Mothers were outside with their babies, and children were playing on the grass. The park benches were all occupied and on one, I noticed an elderly gentleman with hands clasped on his walking stick. He was en¬ gaged in earnest conversati m with another elderly man who was obviously a hobo. I drew nearer and heard part of their dis- cu s sion. ‘Yes’, said the Hobo, ‘It’s all right for you rich people coming into the park here, wanting to talk to us poor fellows but we don’ t want pity, if that’s what you have in mind. Why don t you stay in your own garden and mind your own business?’ My dear man, you should not be so bitter,’ spoke the well dressed gentleman. ‘It is true that I have a lovely garden, at home and a chauffeur to drive me about. Pat Smi th Grade VIII, Room 20 A, B, C’s of Room 13 A is for the angels in Room 13. B is for the brains we’d like to be. C is for the characters you find in our room. D is for our door that always goes boom! E is for the energy we lose in P. T. F is for the frolic, fun and glee. G is for the giggjJes when in room 21. H is for the hopeless, of course there are none! I is for the imperatives which we don’t o bey. J is for the jokes on April Fools Day. K is for those dashing knights, are there any? L is for Latin which troubles many. M is for the Mikado which was a success. N is for the notes that leave us no rest. 0 is for the omelet we made in the cooking room. P is for the pupils who graduate in June. Q is for our Ruler who is Supreme - S for Mr. Stark is the one we mean. T is for the tempers our teachers try to co n trol. U is for University that is our main goal. Vis for volleyball of which we are champs. W is the way to school that we must tramp. X is for the X-rays we had this year. Y is for the yams that we always hear. Z is zero that may we 1 l bring tears. Betty Shale My m a Ly syk Room 13.

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As you can guess, Mother soundly spanked her wayward son for his escapade, and marched him off to bed. Butch once a- gain managed to throw our silent Sinday at¬ mosphere right of the window. Once again, Mother sat down to rest her weary bones. But Butch had not yet been quelled. Down the stairs drifted his sweet voice, ‘Hey, Mom! I ' m starved! Can I have some food?’ Poor Mother! Now Butch is at the kit¬ chen table and is making ‘cakes’ out of his jam and bread by stuffing it into his milk. Finally Mother courageously inquires, ‘Butch, why did you make so much trouble fo r mommy? ’ Without any hesitation, Butch glibly answers, ‘But Mommy, if I had asked you, you would have said no! Es tel 1 e Go rdon Grade IX, Room 13 IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT On cold dark nights when the wind blows s tron g, And the church bells ring with an eerie gon g, The witches chant their evil scng, In the valley of the Dead. Past the graves in the dead of night, A horseman rides with the speed of light, And not on his neck, but still in sight, He holds his ghostly head. At twelve o’clock when all is still, When tjie spirits come and go at will, The bright moon shines on the haunted mi 11, While the bats take to the air. Th en all at once the morning comes, The sun burns hot, with its yellow flame, The spooks are through with their frighten¬ ing games, And the wol ves slink back to th ei r 1 ai rs. Pat Tho r val dson Audrey Saunders Grade ' Vi I I, Boom 22 ALONE IN THE HOUSE A dark and lonely night was ahead for me. My mother had tried t o get me to go with her an cl Dad to A m ty Alice’ s, but I had insisted on staying at home. I had ex¬ pected my brother home before dark, but he had phoned to tell me that h was staying overnight at his friend’s house. Thi s was sho oki ng news! To calm my nerves, I retired to ned to read Vau It. o 1 Ho rro r Coini c Ta le s. All of a sudden I heard a mysterious tapping noise. It was coming from up¬ stairs, and sounded as if someone were try¬ ing to get into the house. I was scared! I broke into a cold sweat. I didn’t know what to do! Finally I decided that tlie best thing to do was tc hide. I ran to my parents’ bedroom. I saw the bed, and crawled under it very quietly. There I stayed for a long time. My body felt numb and cramped from the hard cold floor. Th e noise hadn’t stopped yet! I was afraid that someone might get in, find me, rob me, or kill me. After an interminable time my parents came home. I rushed to them and told them about the strange- tapping noises. My father said it was nothing but to please me, he went upstairs with me. To my sur¬ prise we found the answer to what was making the strange tapping noises. Lost, and tapping on the wi n do wpan e - wi t h its beak trying to get in was our neigh bo ur’s pet pigeon. I guess you know that pigeons can ’ t see in the dark! Ba rba ra Buh r THE HAIL EM GLOBETRDTTERS Last year I saw the best basketball game I have ever seen. The star team was the Harlem Globetrotters, an all Negro team, who played against the Winnipeg Pau¬ lin s. To start the game th e Globetrotters whistled and did rhythmic playing to ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’. All during the game they did stunt passes, dribbles and many comic plays. Some o 1 the players were very tall and others quite short. This contrast gave an amusing lilt to th e game. During the game one of th e players was supposed to have ruined a ball so he went to the bench to get another. Everyone was all set for his throw into the basket, but hal fway to the basket the ball returned to him. He had an elastic tied to the ball One of the players is an expert dribbler and wa s .d ri bbl i n g the ball so close to the ground he was on his knees, l ' h e other pi ay e rs all c ro wded around so » close they lost their balance and landed in a h eap.