Forster Secondary School - Spartalogue Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

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“THE SPARTALOGUE — 1957 Page Twenty-One LIBRARY STAFF FIRST ROW (Left to right): Deanna Duggan, Dot Churchill. Barbara Gerow, Deneece Dudley. Dorothy Erdeg. SECOND ROW: Elaine Dockeray, Edith Dobell, Miss Philpot, Rosabelle Veighey, Margaret MacDonald. THIRD ROW: Dianne Bowen, Pat Dobson, Julia Murdock, Barbara Stepen- son. Lois Bowen. Books You Would Enjoy Readin FOR GIRLS Red Shoes for Nancy—M. Hamilton A shining story of a mother ' s sacrifice and endur¬ ing faith is told after she is confronted with tragedy involving her daughter. Lexy O’Conner—A. McKim Lexy’s escapades as a “green horn” school teacher has a triumphant conclusion with a flower¬ ing romance that makes this story as refreshing as a spring breeze. The Unwilling Heart—C. Marshall A teenager against the world—a common plot— but unusual when resentment is concealed and strides are taken to e nsure future happiness. Turn East, Turn West—L. Creighton (Senior) In this novel of a girl’s stormy awakening, Creighton has created a character as large as life. The clarity and tenderness that were manifested in her first novel “High, Bright, Buggy Wheels, have blossomed now into warmth, vigour, and humanity. Song of the Voyageur—B. Butler Written by a blind, twenty-year-old college student, “Song of the Voyageur,” sensitive, vital, and dramatic, was conceived as a college project. FOR BOYS Adventures With Reptiles—C. J. Hylander This book is a “must” for every nature lover, outdoor biologist, and armchair adventurer. It is the kind of success story that proves that truth is stranger than fiction in a curious and unusual profession. The Boy Scientist—J. Lewellen This up-to-the-minute survey of the exact science is bursting with facts that every modern boy wants to know. Each chapter proves afresh that the scientific method is continually and vitally remak¬ ing our world. Best Sports Stories—1955—I. Marsh A panorama of the 1954 sports year unfolds, coupled with some of the best and most action- packed sports photographs to form this refreshing book of facts. Beyond the Muskingun —M. Boesch This is an unusual treatment of life in the wilder¬ ness that ranks high in sheer excitement as white men dare to transgress on Indian property. FOR BOYS AND GIRLS Heroic Heart—Malthe-Bruun A moving testament to faith and freedom is told by a young hero of the Danish underground speak¬ ing through letters to his loved ones. A Man Called Peter—C. Marshall This is the luminous personal story of a great man of God, Peter Marshall, written by his wife— a moving record of an inspired ministry and a warm, truly happy, marriage. Arctic Doctor—Dr. Moody “Arctic Doctor” combines all the drama of a doctor’s career with the adventures of a northland explorer to make fascinating reading for young and old. White Panther—T. Waldeck Ku-ma, the white panther, leads a legend of jungle lore to the pages of this travelogue as the author goes on safari to provide excitement and entertainment for any age. Continued on Page 38

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Page Twenty-Two THE SPARTALOGUE — 1957 mmamumvifA ARROW HEAD Flinty fragment of a crumbled age, Whose heart did leap to see thee from the bow Spring forth in feather’d switness o’er the sages Toward the startled prey? And who did know The keenness of thy scalloped knife-knicked edge, The whispered shriek of lacerated air, The pained cry of the hunted as the fledge Swift arrow struck? And who did homeward bear Across his s inewed back the bloodied prize? Who lost thee once atop this time-shaped mound. Who searched for thee with deep-discerning eyes. Who searched for thee and left thee here unfound ' Til I should find thee here upon my way— A stony chip, a piece of yesterday. —Rosabelle Veighy, 13A. STILL WAITING Every night at twilight, I wander by the sea, Hoping, praying, dreaming, that you’ll come back to me. The slapping winds, the splashing waves, The gray clouds scudding through the mist, All remind me of a magic night, That cherished hour when first we kissed. As I stumbled along in the stony sand, I saw your bonfire burning Like a beacon bright in the midst of the night. Then you, the fire’s warmth spurning, Hurried toward me—then stopped—our eyes met; Softly you whispered my name; then gently, tenderly, You took me to your breast. That was a year ago. Now I m alone, with no one but you in my heart. —Margaret Sparling, 12A. WHO WILL GO? They call across the waters deep To us who here in slumber sleep; They want to know the God who loves; Though few do care, there is One who does. “Come over and help us!” is their plea; Who will go? Wilf you or me? They have sought in vain to find true life; They can have it only through Jesus Christ. They are ready and waiting the good news to hear. Is no one willing the Gospel to bear? They are steeped in sin and the blackness of night. Is there no one to carry to them the light? The Gospel has come to those in the West; Is there no one to carry the Word to the rest? Christ died for them as well as us; Is it not our duty to help the lost? —Marjorie Dubs, 12A. THE SENSES Sitting by the little stream— I listened To the murmur of the tiny, rushing brook; And tasted Of the water racing quickly through the nook; And watched The splash, the spray, as white and fine as lace; And felt The tingling cool of wetness on my face; And smelled The fresh, sweet tang of spring, through all the air; And thought How wonderful for us that God should care To give To undeserving men his best gifts free, The sense To hear, to smell, to taste, to feel, to see. —Dianne Campbell, 12A. A WONDER OF GOD’S CREATION Along the roadside or in the parks. When the air is full of the song of the larks, Our hearts are gladdened, our eyes refreshed By the sight of the trees in emerald dressed. In the months of fall they are artists’ delights, With leaves gently falling induced from their heights, Gracefully, slowly, floating with ease To the soft sweet song of the westerly breeze. Robbed of their beauty by zephyrs of fall, They stand yet in winter, both noble and tall, Majestic! in their robes, so white, Fit to adorn the Creator of Light. Now balmy spring follows a winter of strife, And the trees are laden with their buds of new life, Completing a cycle, so wondrous and odd, A constant reminder of the presence of God. —Carol Talbot, 11A.