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Page 25 text:
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THE KENCOLL 1951 Paga 23 PIONEER SPIRIT Heading ever westward Across the endless plain, Plods the hardy pioneer To build his home agoin. To clear o place and plough the land And sow the springtime seed, For in the foil he’ll harvest it To fill his family ' s need. For this he ' ll fight the Indian, And travel many miles; For this he’ll brave the elements. Be patient with his trials. He ' ll teorh his sons to love the land, To plough the furrow stroight. The farm will flourish ’neath his hand; His dog will guard his gate. He’ll gaze with pride on purple grapes And golden woving wheot, Then, Sunday, at the brown log Church He ' ll quietly find his seat, And pray to God with thankfulness For mercies He has shown To the settler and his family And the land they call their awn. He ' ll pray then for the neighbour With whose help he’ll reap the cam, For it’s well known that in this land True neighbaurliness was barn. 2nd Junior Prize Wenc y Ollis, 10A WINTER The great white flakes Are softly drifting down Covering o’er all the lakes And burying the town. The moan shining brightly On the scene belaw Casts her rays so lightly On the fields of snow. Houses all in darkness Trees their shadows cast Making beautiful no less The scene up ta the last. Gloria Lambden, 13B SPRING RAINS Rain falls, turning the Bare, brown branches ta Green, leafy arms y and The mucky hue of the grass to a Green velvet carpet dotted With fresh flower faces. STARBRIGHT (Continued from Page 19) among my racing fomily, no thanks to your store-keeper blood, one of these doys.” Mr. Hawksmith saw the futility of it all. He stumbled up the rest of the stairs picking up his old tweed jacket on the way, from where he had dropped it on his re¬ turn home in the morning. Once upstairs he was caught up in the rush of his wife’s wake and soon found him¬ self standing panting behind her waiting for the fen o’clock bus. The brakes squealed as the bus pulled in at ihe corner, the air valves hissed and the doors swung open, and there stood John E. with a timorous smile ond a brightly wrapped package in his hand. He stepped down into his mother’s overjoyed orms and wasn ' t re¬ leased from them until she set him down at home. She clutched greedily at the package saying “Well, what is it son? What did they give you? They said the prize would be cosh. ' He took up the package and slowly unwrapped its poper and cardboard coverings; then he held his pos¬ session high above his head and exclaimed, See!” The jowls of Mrs. Hawksmith’s jaw drooped o little lower os she stammered, That’s what you got for winning 0 ” Gee, no, it wasn’t exactly that Maw. You see, I was pulling my car along from the bus station to the Derby grounds when I passed a little toy store and saw that in the window. A man inside wha was looking at my car came out and asked what I was looking at. I told him, and he said that his son would like a car like mine and that he would trade me. I knew it was just like the one Pop told me about for the top of our Christ¬ mas tree this year and that he was saving for, so I said, okay. The man took me inside and showed how you set it an top of the tree, plug it in, and the stars wink on and off, sa I brought it home ta make up for the money you had ta spend on my helmet and paint far the car.” 2nd Prize, Stories Jerry O ' Flanagon, 13A IN 3 4 TIME The Glee Clubs this year spent many happy hours in song. Our Mixed Glee Club, at Christmas, sang The Christmas Song” and Dear Land of Home”. The Girls ' Club made a good showing of the lyrical All the Things You Are” and Night and Day”. In the near future we are looking forward ta entering the Secondary Schools’ Music Festival. Our deep appreciation is extended ta Miss McNeil far her wonderful work this year! The Double Mixed Quartette begun last year by Mr. Ward was continued this year. The group sang throughout the year in assemblies, ot Westminster United Church, and are going to sing in Taranto during the Easter holidays at a Teachers’ Convention. Thanks are due to Mr. Ward for his time and help. — Mabel Allan — 10A Barbara Bray, 1 2D
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Page 24 text:
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Poge 22 THE KENCOLL 1951 ON WINTER The snow comes down in flakes of white Making the ground o-glimmer with light; The moon shines down in a yellow pool; The icicles sparkle like a polished jewel; The trees are stripped of their summer green, But still it is like a mogic scene. Alihough the summer hos delicate flowers, And the autumn leaves provide the bowers. And the earth is refreshed with o spring of roin, No season will, like the winter, deign To cover the green, and the gold, and the blue With a blanket of white, her only hue. 1st Senior Prize Betty Moore, 13B PITY’S MENAGERIE Looking out the window whot do I see? Just the cold snow ond the wind blowing free. I see o shivering bird with a wounded wing Trembling beneoth the wind ' s cold sting. A dog plods through the belly-deep snow With nary a home of his own to go. Now they are gone, I can only see The cold cald snow and the wind blowing free. A command to my conscience its woy does find, “Go out and look in the cald and the wind!” I obey, and bring them back with me My house then becomes, “Pity’s Menagerie.” 2nd Senior Prize Dennis Maguire, 11D THE PROSPECTOR At early dawn he builds his fire. Eats his fill and then — askance — A look of hope lights up his face, As if ta say, This is my chance.” The burra plads behind him now, Picking its way over rock and sand, A stream is bubbling beyand the turn, The man ance more takes up his stand. This endless search has made him wiry, He will not stop though he is old, A sort af fever courses through him: Someday, I will find gold.” 3rd Senior Prize Raymond Yowarsky, 13A EVERGREENS The evergreens are lost on summer’s wave; In hidden clumps of sturdy strength they stand. The forest’s silent wardens, true ond brove, Its faithful sentries guarding treasured land. When autumn comes to set the trees aflame With sudden red and gold in matchless hue The steadfast evergreens are still the same, A woodland pledge ta be forever true. Then comes a day when momentary pride Must yield to simple, never-changing grace; The summer’s charm, the madcap outumn Must vanish soon without a lasting trace. But, though winter moves upon the scene, There still remains the sturdy evergreen. 1st Junior Prize Keith Simpson, 9D MEMORIES When dark shadows fall at twilight. And we feel the warm fires glow. Our thoughts wing back to Kennedy, To the chums we used ta know. To the things we did in lunch hour; To the games we played in gym; To the bubbling joy of Friday night; To the songs we used ta sing. Though we may leave the city. Or travel o’er the seas, We’ll find our greatest pleasure In our high school memories. 3rd Juior Prize Alma Bergoine, 9 F OUR CHEMISTRY TEACHER We enter the class with a smile on our faces, Which the formula he gives us promptly erases; Holding our attention as he talks, At the heod of the class sits Mr. Fox. Into the lab we rush with a roar. Line up for a key, and open a drawer. We receive our instructions in the other roam; When they are not heeded we hear a great baom. Our test-tubes are broken, our chemicals spilled, He sells us new test-tubes and our bottles are filled; We hove a goad time, and we learn as we ga; But without Mr. Fax this wouldn’t be so. Bill Boyd, 1 38
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