Eastern High School of Commerce - Eastern Echo Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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DREAMS ADA JONES, 4S2 A DREAM is something in the land of imagination, a hope that is realized, a desire that has become a reality. This may be true, but when one sees himself as a monkey, perched on a tree, it is a state of being that is far beyond a hope or desire. In dreams a burglar takes the form of an heroic person, not a villain. A hero, for, when he is very tall, he politely waits while you mount a chair to strike him on the head with a vase. A tiger is something that purrs, and also meows. A lion is a docile kitten. One's sister is a cannibal. In her hand she holds a long, wicked-looking spear. We take the spear away from her. Queer, she offers no resistance! Could one fully realize what this world would be if all dreams came true? He would walk down the street on his hands. He would eat straw for shredded wheat. His friends would be goblins or fairies. He would swim the English Channel in preference to taking the boat-trip. He would spread spiders and worms on bread if the jam-jar were empty. I may now revise a former state- ment. Bow the head low and be thankful that all dreams do not come true. A dream is not always a hope or desire that has become a reality. If any still believe that statement, what queer person's secret hope or desire is eating worms? FRCST MARY O'HAGAN, 3C Frost has come creeping 'round us now To freeze our hands, to chill our brow. To send us scurrying on our way Lest we should stop, or turn away From his cold touch. His cold, cruel breath has turned to red Our cheeks of pink or marble hue. As if by some magic spell he led Our frozen and weary bodies through Old winter's door. 'kit THE SPELLING TEST JAMES MILNE, IE The minutes quickly pass away, This spelling is no jest. I wish I'd studied yesterday, You see this is a test. The sweat of pain is on my brow. Alas! What agony! How in the world can people spell? Oh dear! What can it be? I dip my pen into the ink, And grasp my paper tight. But, oh, how hard it is to think Of how to spell it right! V il 5 K F xv 'Rf' xxx 'N f fig' T, ,. I., , A i 1 I Agassi-gf f 1' ' 'wxfli cess. I 1 T- -- ' ' 'Q -is. ,QQQ-f it -,- .1-r,L1--...I -rg . EASTERN ECHO ,-, ...- Forty-three

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Forty-four H L THE INTRUDERS fflpologies to Edgar Allan Poej HOWARD POSTEN, 4G2 Once upon a midnight dreary, whilst I pondered weak and weary, Over French grammar that I should have done before, Whilst I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my study door: 'Tis my mother, I guess, I muttered, tapping at my study door,- Only this and nothing more. Oh, distinctly I remember it was in bleak November And the family every member had retired long before. Fearful I foresaw the morrow-vainly had I sought to borrow, French done and done correctly, from a friend who lived next door- From a bright and brilliant student, friend of mine who lived next door, Nameless here for evermore. Every trial was a blunder, surely now that was no wonder, For I'd never done my homework by myself, unhelped, before, So that now to still the beating of my heart I stood repeating, 'Tis only mother there entreating entrance at my study door. I will go and give her now entrance at my study door. When into my study stalking with never single word of talking. While the doorway they were blocking, came my teachers, three and four, In a single line all filing, with never an attempt at smilingg And while I stood by and wondered, they lined up beside the door, And while I stood and trembled, they took their stand beside the door- Stood and looked and nothing more. And with many a word accented, all their wrath on me they vented, Asking why I was now doing French that should be done before. Each one spoke in quick succession, adding to my deep depression, Until I in true confession threw myself upon the floor And as I did, I thus did cry, Your forgiveness I implore. This shall happen nevermore! Then a light upon me dawning, I awoke and started yawning, And I knew that I'd been dreaming and had fallen on the floor. But then, even with my waking, a quick glance around me taking, I saw that dawn was breaking and that the dreary night was o'er. Shall I e'er forget my callers? Shall I still neglect my homework? I can answer, Nevermore . EASTERN ECHO