Lindsay Collegiate and Vocational Institute - Tatler Yearbook (Lindsay, Ontario Canada)

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THE L.C.L TATLER 37 A PLEA T0 SPRING To-day Spring daneed upon mn' lawn In her tiny guldeli sheen A11d beneath her inerry foutsteps IVinter's fnrtress fell to 1-nin. Then all the budding tlowers Around our garden seat, Ileard her delicious laughter And felt her little feet. 0 Spring: gay ehild uf l'USl'-lllISi dreanis, Pledged tu joy-nnk11uw11 tu surrow, A di-eain that liyes fm' lint a day. Stay-0 stay until IU-lIlUl'l'4lWZ ALICE MCLAUGHLIN THE BROOK Lovely, sparkling, shiny thing. Rushing like a lvird on wing, Flowing' fast fI'l'IIlI land to land. Made lay tiud's iI'illlSflil'lllIllQ' hand. Rippling' faster, deeper nuw, Snnliglit glowing o'e1- its ln-ow. IYhile some inystie tale it tells Down its shady haunts and dells. Little lvrmzok so swift and deep Never taking' time to sleep. XYith sneh sparkling' life and lure. Very happy, free and pure. ISOBEL MQEACHERN. T0 MY PEN 'Tis frequently said, and I lnnnlrly agree. That great is the seryiee you have rendered to ine, Wlmevei- renienilrers. in CIQISS-1'00lll or den, The kind of respeet that is dne to a pen? I hear Very plainly the reproach in your squeak. As over the foolseap, slow. langnid and weak, Yau wi-ate unt the lines, that so many einpluy, As penal reward fur a inisvhieyous lmy. JIM GROYES. WE, THE MIRAGE The desert wanderer, with feveretl ln-ain. And 1-razed. dilated eyes, Sees lmefnre him, like an enierald's gleam. A lake against the skies. lle rear-lies, strng'g'les. lights, Against the sun's eoiiteniptnmis glare. 'Fu feel the efml caress of water -XYater that is not there. And as eat-h man. who seeks the distant stars, Heaehes, striiggles, lights to win Finds at the snnnnit of l1is hopes A mirage pale and thin, And all the glory he tlionght his Is yet almye his eye. V lllnsiye emnet, a wasted dream, -A mad star flashing hy. ALICE MCLAUGHLIN

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36 THE LGI TATLER and the other at her fathers place try- ing to win back his affections into the home, to her happy union with the American boy whose romance dispels the shadow of doubt in which she finds herself. The plot is well worked out in thi- rich and dignified narrative which has given Mrs. Basil de Selincourt her renu- tation as one of the most eminent among among the contemporary novel- ists, and which has inspired one re- viewer to remark. No living writer ex- cels Miss Sedgewick in the gift of ex- citing us by the clash of wills and tem- peratnents: none surpasses her in that warm sympathy for her characters. nor in masterly structure and exquisite beauty of style. E. J. B. THE BITTER TEA OF GENERAL TEN Grace Zaring Stone This volume by Miss Stone is being accorded praise as the best book oi the season. This fascinating novel records the experiences of Megan Davis, the lovely daughter of an American college pro,- fessor. who comes to Shanghai to marry a medical missionary. In her effort to rescue children and workers at the mis- sion school and while trying to help an obstinate missionary, she herself is injured and cared for by her rescuer, the benevolent General Yen and his favorite concubine. Dramatic events ensue when the unscrupulous Yen is betrayed and escapes to Shanghai. The theme is the clash of two civiliza- tions, one the newest, the other a sur- vival of the remotest antiquity, in which a girl of the one meets a general of the other. tries to win him to hers and ha-s to be content at last with the hope that perhaps the two ways meet somewhere. Much is contained in this short story - one might read a library of learned books on China and get no such re- vealing impression as from its pages. E. .I. B. Poetry TO RUPERT BROOKE fFirst Prize in Poetry Ccntestj lVhy should death have chosen you, lYhen i11 this world so many worthless Men wade its grasp? So few t'ould offer to posterity that splendid tiift that you alone could give. It might he that fate hefriended You. You who loved youth And gloried in its gay display. That tlod knew you so well, that Pitying. he carried you away Before old age could dampen All the splendid tire of youth. And tllroilggli prosaic living Teach you the dullingg' truth That all things die' -and Youth grows tired along the way And dies contentedlyflong llefore the twilight of Lifes day. ALICE BICLAUGHLIN

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38 THE L.C.L TATLER AUTUMN There's a haze on the horizon XVhere the tree tops meet the sky, That lmigg' purple line of tree tops XYhere the low elollds lie. Over the hill is a eorn iield NVith a rustling, ineessant, low. Ileytanl is a ggarden with pumpkins Ilipening along' the row. And all around the fem-es lit-tween stray apple-trees Nuds the tll'2lllg't' of g'nl4le11rml Ilnrdened with honey bees. Over it all hangs a stillness, The smoky, sun-drenehed air, Seems tilled with patient waiting For something to happen there. HERBERTA THURSTON TO VIRGIL The hours I spe11t with thee, dear hook Ot' aneient poetry, Shall he recounted sadly I11 the years to he. I've found a preeipiee high enongli. 0 'tis the parting' time- I had to choose hetween us, so Gmulhye, my book of rhyme! ALICE MCLAUGHLIN, IV. -1.91 THE LADY OF THE FALLS The moon is a golden sm'ereig'n hriglit llathing the wild. enehanting sight Ut' tnrhid water. and steep llPlzL1'lli. In a rieh flood of mellow light. TlltJl't'.S lllilglt' in this seene that ealls To the awed Seneean to Stay And watt-h the rainbows in the spray. That's east up lay that sportiv-2 fay, The Spirit of the Falls. TllPl'tt'S treaehery i11 this wizard gnoine, Iil'tktNlll1g' alone in niirliy cave. In his cold, damp, and wind- thatehed home. XVhieh the free. foaming waters lave. lltzw his deep flllllltll-'l'l11g' voiee en- thrallsl Many are they who hent an earg Many have gazed and slipped it here, Grasped hy a phantom hovering near. The Spirit of the Falls. A wily medieine man kneels At the edge of the eataraet. Vhiding' the phantom how he deals And lieggiiig' for a peaceful paet. List! as the answer the priest ealls. None harm I. if the fairest maid In white Canoe of hireh is laid, And sent yearly o'er the hi-ink, said The Spirit of the Falls. F1-mn year to year the ehoire is made. Iiaeh damsel tinding' in her doom No dread, hut honour duly paid To heauty, eharm and form. Dark Qltltllll Nor strangling fear her heart ap- palls, Ileadlv is she and asks no more, Ilnt meet death where the waters pour, None other than an offering for The Spirit of the Falls. VVALLACE MCALPINE XYh0 Is It? With mighty eye and imposing brow' She has held her own right up till nowg With confidence she travels through The deepest French you ever knewg And when Croft says to her Yes Sir' , She laughs as if it were a joke And enjoys herself like honest folk!