Elmwood School - Samara Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

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22 SAMARA Senior THEY PASS IN THE NIGHT HE is dead now. The war killed him. It killed everybody, this war; if not phy- sically, spiritually. Only last night he was here. He was alive, cracking jokes with me and we were laughing. You could laugh up there, and you felt like it. The misty night air was free from the dust and smoky wounds of London, and made us feel clean inside as it swept across our faces. The wind seemed to carry away with it the sorrows and burdens of the people now lying quietly below us. Waiting. To-night I was alone, and the idle lights looked too large and heavy for only one person to handle. They stand silent, and pointed to the sky as if perpetually searching for something. They looked dead now with no light coming from them. They would come to life again and work as before, but he wouldn ' t. Nothing would bring him back again. I knew him just one night, but by the end I felt I had always known him. I only wish I had. You make friends quickly in a war. There isn ' t time not to, nor can you afford not to. The moon rose and cast weird shadows on its way. I heard someone ascending the ladder and unconsciously turned. They apparently were sending someone to substitute, and to help me. He was young and handsome as Roddy had been, though had obviously never been up here before, by the way he climbed the ladder. Hello, old chap, he said, introducing himself in a carefree v ay. His tone of voice so startled me that I could have hit him. Didn ' t he know why he was here? Didn ' t he know Roddy was dead, and that by morning he might be too, and maybe both of us! He kept on talking in his gay man- ner, and subconsciously I listened. Too bad about Roddy last night wasn ' t it? Cer- tainly was a nice fellow. He ' ll be missed at home all right! No time to think of your best friends now though. That will come after, and when people have time to think again. Section Those few sentences made me feel hope- lessly foolish and selfish inside. Tes, I said finally, it was a shame. Only knew him a few hours, but he must have made a great friend. There was silence for a minute and then I said; I say, Jeff, have you heard this one? I started to go on, but my joke was interrupted by a far distant purr of humming motors, and we switched on the light. Josephine Frazier, Fry. ON BEING CHEERFUL BEFORE BREAKFAST WAS that the bell or wasn ' t it? Oh well! just a couple more seconds of sleep anyway. Next thing I knew the covers had been rudely pulled off and my roommate was in the process of tickling me — oh, how I HATE being tickled! After much violent kicking and complaining I managed to crawl out of bed, only to dis- cover that someone had made off with my washcloth. A few minutes of search re- vealed it tucked away on the floor in the corner of the cupboard. After staggering down the corridor to the bathroom, throwing some water on my face and making an attempt to brush my teeth, I found myself back in my room vainly search- ing for the stocking which had disappeared. A quick glance at the clock and I decided it would have to remain lost while I put on a clean pair. Before it was possible the breakfast bell was ringing. In a mad rush I swept all the curlers and pins out of my hair, dashed a comb through it and went flying down to breakfast, arriving there just on the dot. From utter exhaustion I collapsed on my chair and sank into a lethargy which lasted the entire meal. When next I came to it was to realize that I was being asked to write an essay On Being Cheerful Before Breakfast. Susan Kenny, Fry.

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SAMARA 21 THE AJAX CLUB, HALIFAX THE Ajax Club, in Halifax, Nova Scotia, was organized for sailors of the Royal Navy, and sailors of the Royal Canadian Navy have been made honorary members. Mrs. C. Stuart Mc.Euen, of Montreal, ap- pealed to a number of friends for subscrip- tions and gifts to furnish the Club, and so enthusiastically was her appeal met that it spread the length and breadth of Canada, until the Club took on the aspect of a National tribute from the people of Canada to the men of His Majesty ' s Navies. Thousands pass through its doors weekly; and the Club is said to be the finest thing of its kind in the British Empire for ratings. There are two lounges on the ground floor, and on the second floor is a library with 2000 books, all new. Every book has a name plate with the donor ' s name in it. We also have two games rooms, a streamlined kitchen with a monel-metal sink and a glass door through which the men can see ex- cellent food being prepared for the two dining rooms (tray service), where a 20(zf three course meal is served between 6.00 and 9.00 in the evening. There is a Master- at-Arms and a Leading Seaman, lent by the Royal Navy, who are resident in the Club. The only paid help are two cooks and a gardener-furnaceman. Working parties are sent up every morning, from His Majesty ' s ships in port, to clean and polish. the present time a fence is being erected round the three and a half acre grounds. A vegetable garden has been planted, and volunteers are undertaking flower-beds. It is hoped that friends who have perennial gardens will send contributions of plants. Every sailor in England has his little garden, and we are most anxious that the men will have the joy and pleasure of flowers in their own Club grounds. Prior to the Ajax Club ' s being open, the men of the Royal Navy had no place of their own; their enthusiasm and appreciation of the Club is most touching, and many say it is their home in Canada. As an old Elm- wood girl and librarian of the Ajax Club I would very much like to feel that my old school played a part in this National tribute to the men. As long as the war goes on the work of the Club must continue. We get no Government grant, nor grant from any large organized war charity, and as a National tribute we prefer that the interest of the Club be kept going amongst personal friends and business organizations. In the running of the Club, over a period of five and a half months, we can say that we are self-supporting, and should continue to be so provided any improvements, repairs or fresh equipment, can be met by outside sub- scription. For instance our garden has to be fenced in. The price of the lumber must be donated, and the sailors do the work. We also require a garden-hose. A plat- form is being erected in the centre of the garden for a boxing-ring, and during the summer months inter-ship contests will be held. A silver cup is being donated, but we need several sets of boxing-gloves. We are preparing two deck tennis courts, and the men have been rolling what was the old tennis court for this purpose. We require two nets and rings. It has been suggested that a cup be donated for the inter- ship deck tennis competitions. Much of interest takes place in the Club. For instance the survivors from the Jervis Bay, and their rescuers, were entertained at a luncheon-banquet in the Club. We have looked after wrecked men and survivors from other ships. We are giving pleasure to thousands of men, who, apart from the dangers which they have to face on the North Atlantic, have families and lo ved ones who have been bombed and made homeless in England. Mhairi Fenton, Librarian, Ajax Club. DECEMBER December is the time of year. When every one is filled with cheer; The Christmas season is at hand. People are joyful through the land. December is the time of year. When the sky is always clear; Grown-ups hustle and rustle about. While little children play and shout. Babs Soper.

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SAMARA 23 MAIL HAVE you seen the morning mail, Sue? Yes Did I get any? No. Did I? I think so. Three cheers! What was the writing hke? Was it in green ink? Where did it come from? Was it from Mother or from HIM? and so it continues day after day. According to the Oxford Dictionary, mail means a number of things; namely, a tax or rent, armour composed of interlaced rings, a public promenade bordered by trees, not to mention a packet of letters. But what does it means to a boarder? It means the suspense of waiting from early morning till late afternoon to find out if the letter did come from HIM or from mother. As Sarah Doudney once said: But the waiting time, my brothers. Is the hardest time of all. The conversation at break mainly consists of wondering out loud that if the letter is from Mother will she say I can have the new dress, or will she send a cheque? At lunch inevitably you turn to your neighbour to enquire whether she was one of the for- tunate ones and if so whether hers was THE letter or not. After lunch a mad rush is made towards your roommate and together you try to decide whether it is from Mother or HIM. As you go into class you are busy calculating the days since the last letter and weighing the pro ' s and con ' s; of course not to mention what that dreamy look during chemistry might mean. Finally the three-thirty bell rings, but will it never be four? The mail is out. What none for me? But Sue said there was. Where is she anyway? Occasionally I make a mistake; then pity me! Susan Kenny, Fry. THE NIGHT BEFORE EXAMS I COLLAPSED upon my bed exhausted, murmuring confusedly, The first steam- ship crossed the Atlantic in 1588 when Queen Elizabeth sailed into Cadiz to singe Hitler ' s moustache, . . . . (a + b) = ut which is to be used with the present sub- junctive. After an hour or two of miserable tossing I turned over and went to sleep. The next thing that I knew was that I was walking down Buena Vista in spring- time. The birds were all singing the same merry little tune and I could distinctly hear the words You ' re going to fail, you ' re going to fail, you ' re going to fail repeated over and over again. The trees were covered with fresh, green French and German dic- tionaries and all the flowers were spread- ing out their calynes so that the amocha on their cordlas might warm their prendopadia in the sun. The sky was full of magic carpets upon which reclined various members of the teaching staff gaily tossing examination papers overboard. fls I walked along I met two august per- sonages of area (a — b) . They appeared to be arguing as to whether it was Julius Caesar or Mr. Churchill who first discovered tobacco. I politely interrupted that I thought it was far more likely to have been Sir Launcelot or Quentin Durwood. No sooner had I spoken than they vanished. However I soon met George Washington, who seeing me about to cross a puddle, whipped off his pullover and laid it before my feet. Voila, m.adame , he said, bowing deeply. Danke schon, I replied in my best Latin. By this time the leaflets had fallen so deep that I took the skis out of my pocket and climbed onto the roof of the streetcar which was waiting at the end of the road. Just as I was preparing to sail downhill a ferocious voice murmured in my ear, The force of gravity compels me to push you off at the velocity of 90 m.p.h. At what point will you reach the ground? There was a sickening thud and I found myself on the floor of my bedroom. Jill Norton, Nightingale.