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

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THE BANSHEES WARNING RELAND-Land of moods, land of romance and glamour! From her most northerly point to her southern shores she is steeped in folklore-tales o' the wee folk and banshees who appear in strange forms to wail their warning of death or disaster. Her fanciful tales and beliefs in a spirit world is as much Ireland as are her immortal Killarney Lakes. There are people who scoff at such nonsense, people who from the snug con- tentment of their own cosy firesides de- ride the Irish for their simple unwavering belief in omens. Among these was num' bered Dr. Robert Graystan until one day-. It was April, 1914-an April which County Clare met with blossoming slopes, blue cloudfstudded skies, budding trees and a mantle of soft sunshine. Along the winding country lane, upon which the young foliage cast lacy shadf ows, could be seen striding the upright form of a young man of twentyffour years or so. At his heels ambled a spaniel puppy, its large brown eyes mir' roring the devotion which it felt towards this master who wended his way oblif vious of the quiet beauty of his surround' ings, his thoughts far away on another quiet countryside many miles away. Not until he turned in at a gate before an old gabled, weatherfbeaten house did he pause and with a shrug attempt to throw off the feelings which gripped him. Unfortunately for his intentions, his actions had been noted by a ruddy' faced man who stood nearby, partially concealed by a spreading oak. He adf vanced now with a worried frown and made as if to speak. A preliminary cough startled the young man and he turned with the exclamation, Oh, dad! Something wrong, son? ventured the older man, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. Ch, just the usual talk of war, wherf ever you go--. EASTERN ECHO Dan Kerry patted the shoulder and remarked optimistically, Don't you be worryin' about that, my lad. This one, if it does come, won't last long and Britain will only be on the edge of it. Britain will be in up to the hilt and you know it, was the sober reply, as with an affectionate glance and a part' ing nod the son continued on his way. Dan Kerry was to remember those words when another April rolled around and found young Dan on the high seas, each wave carrying him farther and far' ther from the security of County Clare to the torn battlefields of France. They still lay in his mind when he drove through the sweetfscented twilight of April, a year later, dividing his time between a letter from his son and an account of his family history with which he was regaling Dr. Robert Graystan. Aye, well do I remember my father telling me of our own family ghost, spirit, call it what you will. 'Twas on the night he died, sixtyffour years this very even', he told me of a light which flickers in the room of a person to warn him of death. To warn of death! Quite melodraf matic, was the amused response. Well, you may laugh, but when that light came, my grandffather died, when it came, my father died. Theres some' thing strange. They turned in at the old gate in the fastfgathering dusk. But the Doctor wasn't listening, for with thudding heart hc was gazing at a gable windowe Danny's room where for a brief instant a light flickercd and then vanished. Striving to keep a panicky note out of his voice he inquired casually, Danny have anything special to say? Nothing, except, and a worried frown flitted over the fathers features, that on April '24 they would be go' ing over the top. The Saints of old lref land are watching over the lad, though. Sixty-five

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NO HGMEWORK DONE Ida Kay, 382 UNO homework done! This is the song That greets our teachers all day long. They shake their heads and sigh-in vain, Next day they hear the words again, No homework done! We come to school on Monday morn, Wishing that we had ne'er been born, Entering the room with lagging steps, We form excuses on our lips- No homework done! With thumping pulse and twitching feet, We watch the teacher take his seat, Feeling our hearts fill with dismay. The moment comes-we're forced to say, No homework donelv Some teachers give a tiny grin, Some think we've done a deadly sing But each one gives the words of doom, Meet me tofnight in the detention room. You have no homework done! So maids and men, beware a teacher's scorn- It can be fierce. It makes you feel for' lorn. When you have once had marks against your name. Beware lest you repeat the phrase again, No homework done! Pk Pk Pk lk Teacher: This makes five times I have punished you this week. What have you to say? Bright member of 3C: 'Tm glad it's Friday. :lf Pk ak Pl' Customer: 'Td like to try on that suit in the window. Salesman: Sorry, sir, but you will have to use the dressing room. ill ak ll' 24 Pupil: Pardon me, sir, but I cannot read what you have written in the margin of my note book. Teacher, I wrote that your handf writing is very indistinctf' Sixty-four THE SPIRES OF COMMERCE fApologies to VV. M. Lettsj Marjorie Cash, QE I saw the spires of Commerce, As I was passing by: The grey spires of Commerce Against the pearlfgrey sky, My heart was with the holidayers, Who in sunny Southland lay. The years go fast in Commerce, The golden years and gay, And grave, our teachers do look down On careless girls at play, But when the parting bell did ring, They put their books away. They left the stuffy class rooms, The teachers and the rules, The shaven lawns of Commerce, To seek the bathing pools, And trotted home to have some fun, And act like little fools. Cod bless you, good old pals of mine, Who laid your torn books down, And took the paddle and the racket Instead of cap and gown, Cod bring you a fairer place, Than mild old Commerce' frown. Pk ak ak ak Teacher in Literature period: Have any of you read, 'To a Mouse? Phillis Morritt: No, you can't get them to listen. A Commerce Student and his books. EASTERN ECHO

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He'll come through, he finished with a return of his former spirits. April 24th is tofday, murmured the Doctor. Across No Man's Land crept a line of khakifclad figures. At intervals, bursting shells flared up, illuminating the ghastly scene. A whining note followed by a deafening explosion, the landscape bathed in an unearthly light, a figure totters, stumbles forward again, staggers, and then slowly crumbles to the earth to lie still. WAR WEDDING Dorothy Knights, 381 T was all like a bad dream to Nina: one day Michael and she walking down the aisle to the strains of the Wed' ding March, and the next Michael off to war amid shouting and cheering. Michael had not wanted to be married after he found out that he was to leave for France so soon. He said he might never come back--but Nina had insisted. She could see it now-the hurried little wedding in the Church Around The Corner, her in her silky, white gown and Michael in his straight black suit with his bronzed face and brown hair. They had not even time for their carefullyfplanned honeymoon. In a short day it was all over and Michael was gone-s-to France and War! He had been gone six months now, and it wasca month since she had heard from him. She was sure he was woundf ed. He did not usually miss writing her each week, but now a month had passed. Nina waited five long months and still no word came from Michael. She was certain now that he was either dead or badly wounded-surely he would have written if he were safe. Then one day calls were sent out for volunteer nurses. Nina was a good nurse, she would go to Franceg she would be near Michael then. The next few months were ones of hard labour for her. Each new group of wounded soldiers brought to the hosf pital she scanned searchingly, but always with the same result: there was no brownf S ixty-six haired, bronzedffaced Michael-there was not -even any one who looked like him. Her thoughts were always of him, wondering where he was and if he were alive. Sometimes she thought she could stand it no longer, soldiers dying every minute of the day, guns never ceasing to fire, bombs breaking around the hospital, lighting up the dingy rooms for a moment and then leaving them dark again. Then one night a new group of wounded was brought in from the field. Nina scanned their faces as usual. She did it mechanically now-she was so used to it, it seemed like a part of her clay's work. Her eyes rested on one face-a bronzed face. She could not see the eyes as they were bandaged, but it was Michael. Uh Michael! She ran to him half dazed. She had him moved to a bed and then knelt down beside him. She took his hand. Oh Michael, I have found you at last! He turned his head and started to rise, but she pushed him back gently. It's Nina, she murmured. Nina? I am in Heaven. Nina is with me. I am happy now, he said. 'lNo, no Michael, you are not in Heaven. You are here, in the hospital with me. You are badly wounded, but you are going to get well, then we shall go back to England together. Michael, however, did not get well and did not go back to England with Nina. He died a few hours later, but Nina was happy. She had found him at last! .A f TRESS wt' ly 'lil U- 'Q EASTERN ECHO