Humberside Collegiate Institute - Hermes Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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THE I-1ElQIVIQf dred people take part, including those in the orchestra and in the chorus. The actors regard t-heir parts with great rev-erence, and train themselves for the important event by putting on other plays before the year of the main performance. The costumes are all designed and made in the villag-e itself, and are wonderfully true to the characters and to the period. Neither wigs nor make-up are used by the players. The drama is enacted on a large open-air platform, the spectators occupying an auditorium with a capacity of about six thousand. This year, the first performance will be given on the first Sunday in May, and will be repeated every Sunday during the summer, with several extra performances. VVhen it was presented in nineteen hundred and twenty-two, there were sixty-one per- formances and it was estimated that over three hundred thousand people attended. During the last four decades, so famous has the play become, that tourists have flocked to the little village from all over the world, and the proceeds have mounted in proportion. This money is divided into four parts, the largest of which is used to keep up the theatre and defray the 'expenses of the production. Another is laid aside as a village improvement fund, a third given to the church and to the poor of the community, and the fourth part divided among the seven hundred players. ln eighteen hun- dred and eighty, Joseph Maier, then playing the Christus, received two hundred dollars for his summer's work. Many attractive offers have been made to have the players travel and perform their magnificent spectacle in other lands, but so far they have been true to the religious principle guiding them through the centuries. This summer marks another tenth year, and again at the foot of Mt. Kofel will he enacted this greatest drama of the ages. Fortunate are those people who can journey thither and catch the devout sentiment of these simple-minded peasantfolk. -W. f. -llnllasfcr GIICZI F. L. Zlfrffiziz, III-C. My Lake You may talk of your oceans, so vast and so wide, You may talk of your seas, with their high-mounting tideg You may talk of your rivers, all rolling and grand- But give me my lake-the best in the land. lt may not be as huge as the oceans, nor rise With the moon, changing high in the skiesg Its waves may be smaller than those of the sea, But give me my own lake, and happy I'll be. Then give me my boat, and my lake in the north, And I'll take up my oars and fare happily forthg And I'll go where chance wills, and friendly we'll be- I With my lake and my own lake with me. -H. Clark Balmer, IV-A.

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THE Har-alvlgfn ' if 1, fa? X We Passion Play at Obemmmergau For the past year, the attention of the reading and travelling public has been directed towards the little village of Oberammergau, where, in May of this year, the famous Passion play will again be presented. Oberammergau is a village of about seventeen hundred inhabitants, situ- ated in Bavaria, in the foothills of a range of the Alps. Above the village towers Mount Kofel crowned by a large cross covered with zinc. A river sweeps down from the mountains through the village, its banks adorned with beautiful gardens and quaint houses. Many of the latter have walls frescoed with scenes from the Passion Play, while nearly every house has a cross upon the roof. lt is almost three hundred years since the great plague ravaged the valley of the Upper Ammer River in Northern Bavaria. During the plague, two hundred inhabitants of the little village perished. Then, as is often the case when calamity comes upon a people, the terror-stricken villagers turned to God, and vowed that, if he would spare them, every ten years they would represent, in dramatic form, the life and death of Christ. The plague abated, and ever since, with a few exceptions, the Passion Play has been produced every ten years, from May till October. The original play was written in the year sixteen hundred and sixty-two by monks living in a monastery near the village, and is now a prized possession of the village Burgermeister. ln the churchyard is a fine bronze bust of Father Daisenberger, their one-time pastor, who died in eighteen hundred and eighty-three. He revised the play, and induced the villagers to build a large open-air theatre instead of acting in the churchyard as had been their wont. The music was composed in the year eighteen hundred and fourteen by a schoolmaster of the village. This drama is not a picture of the whole life of Christ, but only of His last few days, which are known as the Passion Week. The play itself con- sists of eighteen acts and several tableaux. Each act is preceded by a selection from the orchestra of fifty members, and an anthem from the chorus of forty-six members, which gives the theme of the act. After the chorus, a short scene from the Old Testament is presented as a back- ground for the main act of the Passion which follows. The performance starts at half-past eight in the morning and continues for eight hours, time being allowed for lunch. The main roles are those of the Christus, the Twelve Disciples, the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene and Martha. The characters of the Christus and Virgin Mary are the most prized, and every mother in the village prays that her son may be chosen to portray the Christ, or that her daughter may play the part of the Blessed Virgin. The actors are chosen by a com- mittee consisting of the village priest. the Burgermeister, the council and several members elected by vote. These actors must be natives of the village, of the best moral character. and able to enact the role for which they are selected. In all, seven hun-

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C1 Z, ?f N we l'lEV2WlEfi' I 11.ff67,. ,f7 HM li if fx 1 IIA. . J f' I ' - - I X 1 I Qi ffvii if il -- 111 -I ' ' ,if ' ' Y .ffl 11 1+ c 1 J 'Ml X .NN breezes sway their branches' the gay I ' ill--I W 4'Xi lil ' 1- - 1 Q1 C1 ll I i C1 E' :lf.:,1L 5,-:W-If LM ,MX M I, pic xeie. .wee , an ye ow an w ite . ijp.,1 :-Ev,-J, W I lywfx. In water-lilies, whose pads provide- seats . A, if -, 3 fl lil. IQ lx If forthe deep-tonecl orchestra of frogs, 'f ggfl' '11, f y ll A ' the marshy bank ablaze with purple I fi loose-strife, always so prodigal of J , li Q bloom, and the shy cardinal flower fl' l ' QN7 . XX hiding its brilliant blossom in some f.. 'l'. XQX l fl! i- Z , 1, --,- 1 I Q shady nook. 1 -A -. iQ I paddle there softly, so that I may ' - leave the solitude undisturbed and ?q -.I have an opportunity of observing the many birds along the shore. In this if ' ' 'C -L l , way I have made many acquaint- ET W: ggi- ances-many of them distant ones, to 'f' 2-. 1- - 7-15 .-fn' be sure-and I have learned much . - I .11 : I A , about the wild ducks, the bitterns, and Years ago, the Tay was a busy canal, but no longer does it echo to the throb of steamboats or ripple to the swirling suction of tug-drawn barge. Seldom now does the put-put of a launch disturb the stillness. The straight cuts of the canal and the winding curves of the river-bed are fast filling with rushes and wild rice. It is a delightful wilderness for flowers, birds and water fowl, and a paradise for those interested in the study of natural science. Each summer I enjoy its beauty more-the distant skyline of graceful elmsg the weeping willows over- hanging the water and slipping their leaves in its sparkling surface, as light the cranes. Last summer, I added another to my list of friends. As I drifted among the eat-tails, one morn- ing, a large bird raised its head, spread out its wings, and soared slowly but strongly farther down the river. My was that the huge bird first thought was a crane. Later in the morning, however, on river, I saw turning a bend in the him again, and decided he was none other than the rare blue heron. What an aristocratic fellow he was, standing quite two feet high when he stretched his neck. This position, however, was apparently not very comfortable, for he always chose to bask in the sun with his head cuddled close to his body. As he again unfolded his immense wings for flight, I saw that his breast and under