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

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THE SPAHTALOGUE — 1958 Page Twenty-Three WORDS WHICH FASCINATE ME Dreamland is not far away. A word, a thought, and our worried world dissolves before us. Then, silently, out of the silver mist comes dreamland sometimes full of magic dewdrops, sometimes full of rain. When I hear the rippling word “lagoon”, I drift into a world of calm contentment. As the infant day is born, the song birds fluff their soft, warm wings, and fill this world with singing. I see a dainty ribbon of flashing colour hanging over the silent blue water. Then it hastens into the haze of early morn, and is gone. I see the shadows of rich green foliage, of fairy ferns, of brave old pines, that dance about the nodding violets. Quietly, God pushes the clouds aside; the golden beams peek through. The lost lagoon fades forever from my sight. My dreamland is not always beautiful and happy. I hear the word “cruel”, and many fearful pictures enter my imagination. A door opens, and I see wicked Herod on his gilded throne ordering his men to slaughter all the newborn babes. His cold, black eyes pierce through his steel, white face. As his bony fingers clutch the velvet cushions, he sneers at all mankind. His haunting laugh resounds throughout the eerie passages of his hell. He is a cruel man and bom of the devil! As another door opens, I hear the cruel wind beating against a tiny log-cabin. I hear the prowling wolves, their wailing howls, their rumbling bellies. I hear a woman’s frail voice crying in the freezing night. I hear her stumble toward the wooden door. The wolves at¬ tack! Then, I hear no more. The picture vanishes, as I gladly awake to reality. When I hear the word “jewel”, I do not think precious coloured stones. I close my eyes, and dream of the pure, white diamond stars that sparkle on the angels fingers, the soft pearl gown of Queen Moon as she sits upon her black satin throne. I see rubies in the autumn leaves, and emeralds in the brook. The whole world is full of God’s jewels of happiness and love. In my dreams, I feel richer than a Persian king. Words are not dead, but full of magic. They bring us pictures of hidden fairy rings, of glittering ballrooms, of peasants’ huts. They open the doors to dreamland, and lead us nearer heaven. —Marg Sparling, 13A. AN ANNOYING DISTURBANCE OUTSIDE ROOM NO. 217 Just as we enter our English class the disturb¬ ance seems to begin. The roar of the steam shovel invades our class room and sounds like the thunder of a dozen powerful turbines. We hear its massive jaws opening and closing, each time emptying or gouging out tons of orange clay. Joining into the chorus is the jack-hammer with its distinctive monotone. It reverberates a continuous chiseling sound as it slowly but steadily slices away frag¬ ments of rock. The jack-hammer perpetually sings a duet with its lifetime partner, the air compressor. The air compressor resounds like a two-note bug. It drums like a bittern and buzzes like a beetle. Now and then we hear a dialectal shout from some foreign tongue. All these sounds make up the concert of the construction crew outside room No. —Anna Kovinsky, 12D. AN ADVENTURE ON AN ISLAND The sea raged and danced; the wind shrieked, and the rain pelted down like a billion stones cascading over a high cliff into the sea. As the waves thun¬ dered onto the seething beach something emerged from the sea, staggered several yards to a clump of wind-torn palms and sprawled fitfully on the ground. My curiosity gnawed at my insides like acid, but the fear of the horrible night made me remain in my warm and dry retreat. The next day the sun burst into a glorious blaze of gold against an azure sky. The crystal sea lapped calmly on the sparkling white beach and the palms swayed rhythmically to the tempo of a soft tropical breeze. I scampered through the still wet jungle and peered through the bush foliage at the man from the sea. As the warmth of the sun permeated his body he coughed sporadically and sat up with a jerk. He blinked his eyes dazedly, struggled to his feet and made his way to the beach. In the glisten¬ ing rocks far down the beach something caught his eye. When he turned toward the rocks I saw a bronzed, weather-beaten face covered by a grizzled grey beard. He was clad in the remnants of a blue uniform and even in his pain-racked condition he began to walk with a haughty bearing. He wiped the mixture of salt water and blood from his face and made his way down the beach. Amongst the rocks there was the wreck of a small craft. He entered the boat and emerged shortly, carrying a small box with a wire protrud¬ ing from it. He placed it on the beach and began making strange noises into it. He continued this every day for five days until one evening noises came out of the box. The man emitted a yell which sent me scampering to my home where I cowered until the night sounds lulled me to sleep. The next morning I peered out and noticed a tiny white speck on the blue horizon. As I watched it seemed to grow larger and larger until it stopped suddenly. The man on the beach was jumping up and down, frantically waving his arms. A smaller vessel seemed to come from the larger one and to head for the shore. When it reached the shore, men came out. They greeted the man on the beach enthusiastic¬ ally. He picked up his box and got into the vessel. As he started to move away he turned and looked sadly at me sitting on the beach. He waved and slowly disappeared into the sea from whence he had come. I had a strange sensation. It was an empty feel¬ ing. I turned and started back for the jungle. As I climbed up to my nest in the palm tree I wondered if we animals of the jungle would ever understand these strange creatures called men. —John Muir, 12A.

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Page Twenty-Two THE SPARTALOGUE” — 1958 CITIZENSHIP IN THE SCHOOL contribute to the development of citizenship in young people? Before considering this question one must first realize just what the traits and attitudes of a good citizen are. A good citizen respects and obeys the laws of his city and country; he understands the necessity for good laws in the growth of a community. A good citizen is always willing to fulfil his obligations to his country; he does not begrudge time spent serv¬ ing on a jury or on the leaders’ staff in a civic centre. A good citizen does not vote with his eyes closed; he investigates the background, education, and aims of every candidate in order to vote in¬ telligently. These qualities must be instilled in young people before they become adults. Schools, like cities and countries, must have rules. When young people reach high school age, they understand that rules are necessary in schools, and that one must respect them. Such a rule as No smoking on school property” may seem un¬ necessary to a student at first glance; ‘ after some reflection however, he realizes the hazard of fire that would exist without this restriction. In addi¬ tion to their being required to obey the general school rules, students are required to stand when asking or answering questions, to be respectful toward their teachers, and to be punctual with their homework assignments. Also they learn to obey the rules in games like basketball, football, and tennis in their physical education classes. The prin- cip es of good sportsmanship and co-operation are included in these courses. This development of character and respect for rules in students is the first step toward good citizenship. Extra-curricular activities in the schools also vo»H, lbU Tf t0 tke . development of citizenship in youth. The majority of secondary schools have or- gamzcd clubs. Each of these clubs has an efficient adult counsellor but the clubs themselves arc led by presidents, elected by the members. The mem¬ bers. too, have responsibilities as secretaries, treas- TW ' °r !TT be u S ° f c ? mmittees w thin the clubs. Thus, students have the opportunity to practise democracy and to learn its advantages by Nocri- ence. Student councils, another vivid example of snvilf peop e who are Poetising democracy, are small governments within the schools. Students learn how to work well together as citizens of their school — planning dances, assemblies, and charity drives. Those students who learn to accept respon¬ sibilities as members and officers of school organ¬ izations will be efficient citizens in the future. Most important of all, students are taug ht in school how democracy developed in the world. They learn that the first sparks of the spirit of democracy were lit by the Greeks of Athens and latei by the Romans, but that these sparks smol- dered to only glowing embers with the advent of the Middle Ages and the rise of absolutism and feudalism. Eventually, the desire for freedom erupted in an angry fire of revolts and violence By studying the hardships endured, the drastic measures often taken, and the first clumsy attempts at self-government made by man, students learn to appreciate freedom. They become more eager to participate in maintaining democracy, realizing their duties as the adults of tomorrow. They be¬ come aware of the fact that citizens must vote honestly and intelligently to keep democracy. The contribution of the school in the develop¬ ment of citizenship in youth is essential. The re¬ spect for laws, the willingness and ability to accept responsibility, and a realization of the importance of voting carefully—all these most desirable traits schod°° d C ' tizen young P eo Ple can acquire through —Carol Talbot, 12A. It was a fine summer day, when a man, certainly of some position, by the manner in which he was road ’ W8S See ° amkkng a ' on K a remote country With him was a young boy, who soon was being led up a desolate path, at the end of which between two pines, sat a tiny red school house. . a I he L Clim e 1 th , e ricket y steps and opened the rusty-latched door; but to this man it was more than merely opening a door. It swung forth the vistas of a world gone by as he ventured into the days of yesteryear. h e f Se ?k ed r himself at , a musty desk - Paying no heed to the finery in which he was clothed. There lon r 1 ' , Un ? ““• old cIock - its Pendulum ong since stilled. And the crack in the plaster over (or Xt° W stilL Why - jt had been there tor what seemed to be ages. .riJn Tf T L he desk where the teacher had stood giving forth her seemingly inexhaustible store of knowledge That desk had seen more polished ap- wRK p r® sented and more youthful posteriors dealt with than might be tabulated. wUdThS r ° S ! a ? d str , ode through the doorway rs and nl S T . ,awyers - engineers, teach- til II l ' rS ’ humanitarians, naturalists, scien- tists, all pass in review. . eno “fh of this idle, reminiscent chatter, said the gentleman to his son. “I have an appoint¬ ment with the Atomic Energy Commission. —Dennis Rankin, 9H.

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Page Twenty-Four THE SPARTALOGUE” — 1958 THE DECISION i As , Ke u rode away fr °m the ranch which had een his home for eighteen of his twenty-one years, he was looking forward to his secret haven. He had told his father that he wanted to take a hunting trip to the mountains for a few days. Sure, son ’ Jim Lefler had agreed. “Three years in the army is a long while; you haven’t had a rest since you ve been back. Take Ronek with you, she’s a good little mare.” The early summer sun shone warmly on his broad shoulders and back and made him feel like istling. And whistle he did. Ronek pricked up her ears and her dainty feet seemed to keep time to the music as she swung along the trail. From time to time Ken talked to the black mare as he interrupted his whistling. “It feels prettv good to get back in a saddle again, Ronek. You don t know how lucky you are to be a horse, young u j i nd r S ° ,’ t „ Weat untiI m d-day. when he reached the foothills. , rested the mare and ate his lunch. The ranch buildings far below him were spread out like l Cni , C j anch ° n a gre en, yellow ' and brown check¬ ered cloth The forty-two Arabian brood mares appeared like ants as they grazed in thirty acres of rich white clover. These completed the picnic scene. Having finished his lunch, Ken tightened the cinch and swung into the saddle. During the long ride ’- he lh “ h , had a11 . started three years ago when his father „.L dsuddeny a PP r °ached him saying “Come spring, when you graduate, you can have Treza’s colt ’ That was all he had said. He said it as though he were making a statement about the weather. Ken’s test bloodl ' he reaHze that Treza wa the fhf J? t d rab T? n mare on the ranch, and that t u ZT, of t0 K t m ' h, the to P allion in the country: Of course he did! Ken had always wanted to follow in his father’s He care P d S COlt W ° U,d him his s t t fk f that mare as a mother would her baby up to the very day of her foaling. He walked into the stall one morning to find a shad U f W 0lt . C °J OUred Hke his mot hor only a deeper shade of dappled grey. However, within a few days 1 TM a ? parent something was wrong. It seemed that the leg muscles were weak and no amount of ,hem Th -»“ «• animal™ bUt he WOuld not have an amma 1 on the ranch that could not earn its own buPto kee S p U ft1n h tn ? thw DOt tC destr ° y the colt, loose on the other rid WaS f then turn ‘•There’s a few wild him ov£ e ve got to g ve him a chance, Dad.’’ His father flung up his hands in defeat. “All right, all right I give in, we’ll keep him till then. I hate to do this to him. He sure is a pretty thing. For the next six months Ken worked with the colt, massaging his legs, and caring for him He won the little grey’s trust and confidence and the colt would come to a certain low whistle. It was evident that the colt belonged to Ken. He remained in the army for three years and returned with two medals pinned to his chest He had inquired about the grey colt while he was away and he had learned that the horse was over the band of world horses, and had introduced some fine blood into the herd. His father told him that many ranchers had been trying for some time to capture the beautiful grey. The day after he arrived home, Ken saddled up and rode out to try to catch a glimpse of his horse He was fortunate, and was amazed by the beauty of the stallion and the size of the once scrubby- looking herd. He slipped quietly away without dis¬ turbing the horses, and that was when he vowed he would have his horse back again. Now he was thinking of his plan again. It was a simple one. It was probably so simple that none of the other ranchers had thought of it. Either that or they did not know where the special box canyon was. .vwug.ny twelve miles west of the ridge lay a small box canyon which he had discovered acci- dentally four years ago while searching for stray cattle for a neighbouring rancher. He had not re- t r here J sll ? ce - and !t was tb some difficulty that he found the entrance as it was overgrown by trees and shrubs. The canyon itself was approximately three hun¬ dred yards wide, and one half a mile long. The sides, of brilliant red clay, were almost perpendicu- kl’ n TU hey t ° Wer S d one hundred feet over Ken’s he W floor was covered by grass ex¬ cept for a few barren stretches. A small brook wound its way from one side to the rear of the canyon where it disappeared under a rocky ledge. Ken watered and fed his horse; then hobbled her ow m, T aV Th if n ' he , made P re P arat «ons for his °ZT £ ' A f: h,s ™ eal he refled into his blanket him tHmg he knCW Ronek was nuzzling He had his work cut out for him that day, and af ?r breakfast he started out whistling merrily h,S j Xe on his shoulder. By noon he had felled feSe f°A d ' S1 t Zed trees ’ L With these he built a strong ence and gate across the mouth of the canyon. He as finished by dusk and was so weary he could ardl eat his meal before retiring for the night. fence Jw morn ™S Ken tethered Ronek near the ence, then camouflaged it, and the gate he had P , r ° Pped °. pen - He had seen signs of wild horses in was th ,ty T d u 7 aS ® vident that down the slope wonli hl 1 ? 0le ‘ , Ken hoped that the stallion herd m. R °, j 6k and try to make her join the herd. She would not be able to follow; the stallion (Continued on Page 25)