Halifax Grammar School - Grammarian Yearbook (Halifax, Nova Scotia Canada)

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SUSIE I was fighting my way through the crowds of Fifth Avenue, in New York;, trying to get to a little coffee shop two blocks away, where I had a date to meet a person. Fifteen minutes later I was standing within the door of a dimly-lit, smoke-filled room. There were a few modern pictures, by unknown artists, on the grey walls. In one of the corner booths sat a young girl, watching a small Jazz band playing, a- cross from the crowded bar. Being crowded, it was very stuffy and hot, and made me feel uncomfortable. This girl, I could tell, was the person I was supposed to see, I watched her closely and noticed how hard was her young face. She had straight bleached blonde halrj, whose dark roots, however, showed the real colour to be dark brown. Her eyebrows made her look as if she was an expert with an eyebrow pencil. Her eyelashes were naturally long, but she had made a fine Job of curling them, and they looked lovely over her big dark brown eyes. Under her right eye she had made ner eye shadow a little too dark. Her face had enough powder and irouge on it to look striking, but her lipstick was not of the right colour for her lovely lips. Being about five foot four and weighing perhaps one hundred and twenty-five, she looked a perfect model. Not a piece of Jewellery could I see on her, which was sur- prising. Having such a figure, however, she still wanted to show lit, by wearing a tight grey sweater and a three-quarter-length i orown sheath skirt. Her brown shoes had little heels and pointed toes , She finally noticed me and called, Come on over and sit down, I walked over and sat down, and then introduced myself. She saldj, Well, cop, you ' re late, I ' ve written down every- thing I could remember of any good about the accident or rather Burder-and I think I ' m crazy to tell you guys. But I don ' t like nhe gang that did it. Now scram, I don ' t like your kind either, I got up and thanked her, and left quickly to get out into Che fresh air. John Tolson - Age 15,

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10, AN OLD SEAMAN While I was on my summer vacation I went visiting some of the French fishing villages along the rocky shores of Nova Scotia, As I was staying at one such village one afternoonj my curiosity overtook me and I went roaming the narrow, crooked streets of the quaint little towno Soon I managed to find the harbour, for the town was very small. There, while looking at the ships, I spied a little man with a strange appearance. His fair hair shone in the glaring sun and his nose stuck out, looking as if it had been nailed on him. Although his clothes were very shabby he did not have a dirty appearance. The old seaman ' s mou had fat lipSj between which was a hand-carved pipe. While he was smoking that pipe his skilful hands were cutting at a piece of wood, which was beginning to look like a fishing vessel. To cover his Cad, jolly cheeks was a heavy beard, and every time he laughed his plump belly shook and shook. When he looked with his beady eyes into mine and said, Are you lost or som ' thing, son? he enchanted me with his gruff seaman ' s voice. But having told him where I came from, and what I was doing, I then walked home again. P, Dickson - Age 12.9 RUNNING HORSE Past the houses, past the gate, Over the hill and around the tree. Around the hedge, over the logs Without the cart he runs so free. Past the farmer, past the house, Over the track, over the fence, Past the children, past the trough, Into the woodland ever so dense. Now the wind leaves his face At a slightly slower pace. Now he stops, and looks around. Now his ears have been robbed of the sound. John MacLaohlan - Age 13 4