Havergal College - Magazine Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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Havergal College Magazine JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. Throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the name of Bach frequently occurs in the annals of Grafenrode, as ingen- ious musician and composer. It will thus be seen that Johann Sebastian Bach, born at Eisenach, in 1685, inherited his talent from a line of musical ancestors. His predecessors lived in the time of the Thirty Years ' War in Germany. The real musical ancestor was Hans Bach, who was born about 1580. He was called The Player, which meant the profes- sional musician. His second son, Christoph, was the granuxather of Johann Sebastian. This great composer led a very simple and uneventful life. His father taught him to play the violin. i e was left an orphan when he was ten years old, and he then went to live with his elder brother, Ambrosius Bach. Under Ambrosius ' direc- tion he began to study the clavier. At the age of fifteen Bach entered the Convent School of St. Michael at Luneburg. Here the clavichord and organ were his chief studies. In his holidays, Bach travelled 150 miles to hear Reinkin, a famous old Dutch organist, play. In 171 7 Bach was made Direc- tor of Music and Cantor to St. Thomas ' School, Leipzig. He held this appointment until his death. Bach ' s studies af- fected his eyes, and in 1749 he became totally blind. He died the next year. Bach wrote fantasies and forty-eight preludes and fugues in all keys for the piano. His celebrated G Minor Fugue was written in 1720, at the time of his journey to Hamburg. In Leipzig he wrote Von Himmel Hoch. His sacred music, church cantatas, Passion and Christian music are of the best, both for religious spirit and artistic composition. Bach invented an instrument called the Viola Pomposa, and he wrote educational works for his pupils. Bach ' s importance for the history of music lies in the fact that, starting with instrumental music and adhering to the spirit of it, he developed all forms and species of composition in an entirely new and independent manner. Marion Bell and Dorothy Andrews. Form V. Lower. Extracts from letter written by Mrs. Harris (whom we know better as Agnes McLeod), on her way to China: Eighty miles beyond Yokohama. When we reached Yokohama, within a few hundred yards, our boat anchored and Japanese doc- tors examined us and allowed us to pass on. We were met at the wharf by some old friends of Mr. Harris, and Mrs. Kern, Mrs. Coates (a lady whom my husband knew when he was a boy), and Mr. and Mrs. Connolly from Tokio. These two were college mates. It was indeed a joyous meeting for them ; they seemed so pleased to see friends from home. 45

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Havergal College Magazine Picture IV. In a sportive mood I feel some days, And woe, woe betide you then ! I ' ll tease you all in a thousand ways Unknown to daughters of men. No answers, wrong numbers, calls never right Hearts sink, you speak but to groan. To mock you all is my delight — The Fiend of the Telephone. U

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Havergal College Magazine We all went about sight-seeing in the curio stores, etc., had a few rides in the jinrickshaws, which were very amusing to us, and finally we thought we would have lunch at a Japanese restaur- ant. Here was the experience of our lives. First of all we were relieved of our boots (I ' m sorry to say that some of our party had holes in their stockings, which is excusable, as we had all been seasick; this is, however, a side show), and taken up to a table about six inches off the floor, with mats to kneel upon at the sides. Then we were given some raw meat and rice, and three of us shared a charcoal burner and a little frying pan. It was really awful, but a very interesting experience. At three o ' clock our boat pulled out and we stood on deck to watch the setting sun. Really, I had never believed that the Japan- ese were representing sunsets as they really are on their postcards, etc., but when I saw the sunset to-night I was convinced. The colours after the sunset were indescribable. Such rich red tints as we do not see in Western Canada. MY TONIC. (Dedicated to the Hoarders.) Who sympathizes in the Spring When I must take this horrid thing? Who really likes the oil of fish, Or hypophosphites, sweet and rich? Nobody. Who offers kindly in my place To drink it down with smiling face? Who runs to fetch in anxious haste Some sweets to take away the taste? Nobody. And who is sorry for my sake To see the faces that I make? Whoe ' er, if such a thing may be, Would drink the draught instead of me? Nobody. But who reminds me, though I ' m blue, That once again that Dose is due ? Everybody. 40