Elmwood School - Samara Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

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30 SAMARA A New Boarder ' s First Letter Home (10 miles away) Dear A4ummy and Daddy, My, I wish you were here! It is so lonely here without you. Really the girls here are so mean to me and they are very disagreeable. Please come and take me home soon. I don ' t like the meals and the beds aren ' t like my dear little bed at home. All the girls roar around and leave me out of everything. You should see my roommate! I hardly ever see her and she is always doing bad things like sneaking out of the room at night, and she never leaves the room tidy. Even in classes they never pay any attention to me, and it is so awful. Some- times they even laugh at me because I do other things and not what they do . . . .! (etc., etc. — 4 pages later). Oh, I am so lonely. Please come and see me soon and write every day. Give my love to darling pussy. Your lonely little petunia, Elizabeth. Next Week ' s Letter Hi, This is just a short quick note, ' cause I am in an awful rush. The kids are swell. We are just about to put a mouse in one of the teachers ' desks! Ha, ha! Guess what we had for supper? Yum, Yum, tapioca pudding! Bye. Liz. P.S. Got a couple of bad marks for breaking bounds and going to the tuck! L. Sally Wright, VC Fry Iambic Pentameter It is the second of November, cold. The trees stand bare, denuded of their leaves. And sway like giant brooms upturned in air. The ground all cold and hard, awaits the snow Which like a never-ending blanket looks. And lets the earth retire in wanted rest. When winter slowly comes and covers earth. There stand the trees all cased in crystal glass. Sue DeWolf, VI Upper Keller The Governor-General Joins the Bloods As we bumped along the old dirt road, in the distance we could see the flickering of hundreds of camp fires. If we leaned out of the car window, we could hear the thump of the tom-toms in the distance. My family and I were going to see the Indian camp at Stand-OfT, near Macleod, Al- berta, where the next day the Governor- General would be made an honorary chief of the Blood Indians. When we came to a turn in the road, we started straight up the hills, right toward the camp fires. Several times we passed an old Indian cart, or some young Indians riding their ponies along the roadside. Finally we came up to the camp, and parked the car. The teepees were in a large circle, and around each of them were five or more dogs. Their howling frightened me so, I re- treated to the car where I knew they would not venture. From most of the teepees came the familiar sound of the tom-tom and from where I was I could see the shapes of the dancers inside. Every once in a while, a loud shrill yell would be heard from one of the happy people. After we had got a good look at the camp in the dark we decided we had better start back, as it was pitch black outside and it was hard to find the old dirt roads leading back to town. Next day after dinner, we went back to the camp. The white tents outlined against the brown of the hills and blue of the sky made a lovely picture as we started once more into the hills. We arrived early and had plenty of time to look around. Several of the larger teepees were painted with designs. If you gave the Indians a cigarette or some money, they would tell you what the designs meant. All of these teepees were made of skins, and were very skilfully painted. In the middle of the camp was a platform and at each corner was a Union Jack, and a Mountie standing underneath in his scarlet uniform.

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S A A I A R A 29 from the islands and the bays nearby it is a great friend. The two main industries are seahng and fishing. Each year in Alay the fishermen and their crews leave their hometown harbours on the fishing schooners, which have been moored all winter in the harbour. They sail for the fishing banks of Labrador. In late August or September they return with, most times, a good catch. The money these men who go down to the sea in ships get from the selling of their load of fish has to keep them and their families until the next spring when they will again go to do business in great waters. The sealing fleet leaves for the North in March. To most men this sport is a challenge and a great adventure. They return in May with usually bumper loads of furs and hides. This is a little about life in my home town. In many ways it is different from most people ' s home town. But the old saying No Place Like Home, still holds strong. Audrey Ashbourne, VC Keller Sundown The lake is smooth with only the faintest suggestion of a ripple on it. The mirrored trees wave silently back and forth with dis- connected lines in the murky deep. Tall, jagged pines, standing like sentinels in a seldom broken line along the even shores, are surmounted by peaks of misty dimensions. A loon laughs joyously, raucously, as it paddles around the lake, appearing and dis- appearing at will. Tiny golden fingers probe the long, spread branches, making the lake look dusty brown. The sun sinks slowly, glowing red, drawing after it its blanket, the night. The rim slides unnoticed over the edge of the world, and the ever-waiting night shadows all in its starry, billowing cloak. Sheila McCormick, VB Keller On Leaving Elmwood Good-bye dear school. The time has come to part; But though I wander far afield, I leave with you my heart. Happy days, and sad ones Spent within your fold, How hard it is to go away. And leave you to grow old. But I must go and seek a life From all that I hold dear; And I shall ever leave behind My happiest moments here. So with a sad and backward glance At scenes that are a part of me, I disappear from out it all; Good-bye dear school, so kind to me. Diane Boyd, VI Upper Keller Wherever I may wander, and Whatever I may do, I ' ll ne ' er forget the good times here — My youthful days with you: The memories of past and present: The days that now are gone: The memories that can ' t be taken. For they ' re a prize I ' ve won. Leslie Anne Jackson, VI Upper Nightingale On leaving school I will be sad, Not only I, but all 6 Upper — There will be times we would be glad If we could down an Elmwood supper! Years we have worn green socks and tie But never more shall we be seen — Our Motto, Highest of the High — In green serge tunics on Sparks and Queen! I hope that you will think of us. As I will always think of when We day girls went to school by bus. And boarders paced in their small pen! Patsy Knowlton, VI Upper Keller

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S A A I A R A 31 At two o ' clock, mounted outriders, clothed in full regalia, rode out to meet His Excellency and party. The Governor-General escorted by several Mounted Policemen and Head Chiefs, went into the Chief Shot-on-Both Sides ' teepee to be introduced to the Honorary Chiefs. They then came up on the platform, and seated themselves in a semi-circle. A fat old Indian performed the initiation; there were several speeches, both in Indian and English, then a beautiful head-dress was placed on the Governor ' s head. After that we all had to stand and put one hand on the shoulder of our neighbour, and the initiation was over. The name given to His Excellency was Chief Eagle Face. Then came an exciting part, for me anyway, since my Dad is an honorary chief also. A crowd of old Indian women were brought up onto the platform, and a dance started with the Governor-General and Mrs. Shot-on-Both Sides leading, then Commissioner Wood of the R.C.M.P. and other Honorary Chiefs that I don ' t know. When the dancing was over the whole party went into Mrs. Shot-on-Both Sides ' tee- pee for refreshments. They had pemmican, cake, tea and berries. While they were inside, the Indian dancers got to work. Some of them were dressed in nicer costumes than the others, but all were very beautiful; white buckskin jackets and trousers, with fringing and bead work of the very best. Their head-dresses were of eagle feathers, and some were trimmed with a band of bright coloured fluff. The women were dressed in lovely costumes too; beautiful silks, and again handsome bead-work and coloured porcupine quill-work. These Indians are mostly proud men, some of them with the Queen ' s medals that were handed down from their ancestors, when their country was taken over by the white people. When the Governor-General came out again, he stayed and watched the dancers for awhile, and then he departed. The beat of the tom-toms grew louder as he started to leave, and the Indians lined up to say a last farewell to him. I am sure as long as he lives he will remember that day. As we left, behind the Governor-General ' s car, I turned around, and in front of the camp stood the Indian chiefs, their head-dresses blowing softly in the breeze and the tom-toms getting softer and softer as we went on our way. Frances Wood, VC Nightingale On Writing Essays I am looking forward, at this point, to a long struggle with essays upon essays dealing with subjects of varying unimportance; I am also looking backwards at half of my loose- leaf book, covered with incoherent thoughts and rules for a good essay. What is an informal essay? Aside from being an instrument of torture, it is a rather unimpressive, pointless way of relieving one ' s mind of all it contains on a totally impractical subject, such as On Having Friendly Neigh- bours, wherein one either renounces them for bad qualities, or embraces them for good ones. An informal essay is a thesis with suitable elaborations. In it you explain your opinions and the reason for them. Oh! but it is not that easy. Hitting the nail on the head in one down-to-earth attempt is not in the rules. One gives small, ineffectual taps with smart digs and sly phrases, hedging gently, and suggesting hidden meanings until both oneself and the nail are all in. The book describes this as proceeding in the form of a circle ending up at the start. Now where is the point in that? Having exhausted the subject (and myself) as best I can and having completed a rather wobbly circuit, I shall stop. (This treatise, to be an essay must not be an argument, therefore it merely suggests a rather biased opinion.) Sheila McCormick, VB Keller