London Normal School - Spectrum Yearbook (London, Ontario Canada)

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POETRY WELCOME Last even I could hear your lilting laughter As breezes blew against my window-pane. This morning I discerned your cheery chatter Outside my casement in the falling rain. This noon you showed your face within my grass plot, A crocus shyly rising from the lawn. This afternoon upon a blackened waste lot, With wondering eyes, I saw a green cloud dawn. With all these heralds to announce your advent, New grass, and flowers, and gently falling rain, How could we doubt that thou art here, long absent, Oueen of the year, we welcome you again! MARJORIE E. HAMIL o o o THE INDIAN GIRL ' S CALL O Master, sleep in your plushen bed Of emerald moss and golden fern; And when our Indian paint brush is red And the summer is gone to his lonely urn, You ' ll wake and rise With the dew in your eyes, And come to my side in the mist of the morn. O Master, already the summer is pale, And the crickets are calling aloud; And saucily perched on that gray fence-rail The blue-jay is veiled in a cloud — And the fields are shorn Of their golden corn, And wistfulness shadows the stubble there. O Master! Wake in your plushen bed, For the Indian ' s summer is surely here; O Master, lift your drowsy head And hear the red squirrels nutting near — For the Autumn lists In her golden mists, And the silver suns are mellow and warm. O the silver mist hangs out o ' er the hills, And the golden sunlight filters it all; And the amber and gold are the little rills, And I hear Onaswego ' s call; For the gypsy strains Are in our lanes, And the breezes call me to roam the dells. O Master, awake! For the forest ' s aflame And the smoke all about it is tangy and sweet — Oh, can ' t you hear me calling your name To come with me to the Indian meet? For I am sad And in cerements clad Till you wake from your dreams and come to me! The crimson and gold and emerald leaves Are falling upon your plushen bed, And the soft west wind his sad sigh heaves As they cover your drowsy, dreaming head; For you shall sleep And your secrets keep, Nor answer my call till the hunting time. ALLAN J. HARTLEY o o o SPRING MAGIC There ' s magic in the tulip beds, And on the emerald lawn, And in the silver radiance of The candles of the dawn. There ' s magic in the daffodils In ruffled petticoats, And magic in the joyous trills Re-born in feathered throats. Then, too, there ' s magic in the air — It fans me with the breeze — And magic in the clouds of jade That float ' round maple trees. And whence it came or what it is I cannot even guess, But oh, it tears the heart of me With thoughts I can ' t express! BEATRICE E. GODBY o o o LIGHTS IN THE MARSH The night is dark; the frogs are calling; Weird little lights are rising, falling, Soaring, sliding, gliding, glancing, Lighting gloom for pixie dancing; Blinking, winking, gay, elusive, Dipping, slipping, shy, delusive, Flickering out, then flaring bright — Calling, luring into night. ' Tis bedtime, yet I watch them glisten; The clock strikes twelve, and still I listen! Those tiny elfin torches flaring, Are so inviting, mystic, daring, I ' m not attracted by my pillows, I want to dance beneath the willows — And oh, the struggle ' s sharp and tense Between desire — and common sense! BEATRICE E. GODBY

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THUMB-NAIL SKETCHES The Night Before, THE clock strikes midnight as the boarding-house mistress enters her silent house and gropes her way through the ebony shadows to the room in the south-east corner, where the rays from a study lamp gleam through the half-open door. In a justly irritable mood she peers into the room. It is one of perfect disorder. A half-painted bird house is perched at a precarious angle on a corner shelf. Various-hued paint cans provide a harmonious background, and several dry, stubby brushes cluster around. A gallery of pictures arranged in zig-zag columns covers the bed. A flagstone walk of refer- ence books stretches from the bookcase to the table. Two tiny spots of painted table top stand out like miniature islands in the great sea of foolscap, note paper, erasers, pencils and ink bottles. Bits of crumpled paper overflow the waste paper basket and cascade over its sides to the floor. Over this storm-riven table a figure, the victim of the band of Morpheus, slumps, and thunder-like nasal sounds break the pre-storm stillness. Behold! A Normal Student ' s room on a Tuesday or Wednesday night! MARGARET GRAY Nature in the Spring AS I stood motionless beside the old rail fence, under the blue vault of the heavens, I beheld Nature in its awakening joyousness as it may be seen any bright morning of the Eastertide. Ahead stretched the broad expanse of rolling meadow with the brown of Winter giving place to the green of Spring. A saucy brown groundhog, standing at the entrance to his burrow in a grassy knoll, sur- veyed the human intruder with keen interest. To the right was a grassy field in which gambolled three gray muscular jack-rabbits in a wanton mood. One, straying away from the rest, came in my direction, but stopped at least fifteen feet from me, straightened himself erect, sniffed the air, and bounded off toward his fellows. A dusty brown bird on agile wing soared past, calling with shrill note, Kildeer, Kildeer. Turning around, I looked upon the swale with its growth of willows and sumac in the moist, black earth. From the stagnant pool the frogs, in full Pandean chorus, struck up the notes of their ode to the Spring and trilled it as only these amphibian musicians can. From the topmost bough of a tall, slender elm came the chromatic notes of the crow as he cawed his welcome to the Spring. Far off, from the distance, came the tinkle of a bell which signified that the cows had been let into the pasture and that Spring had arrived at last. MARGARET L. SWANTON Grandmother ' s Sideboard I T was a massive thing — the old sideboard which ' stood at the end of Grandmother ' s dining-room. But then it had to be massive to hold all Grand- mother ' s precious dishes. Its animated oak carvings told a story that wound down through the ages as they coiled around the sturdy framework. In the centre of the marble top was a small mirror which had probably seen many faces, but which now bore the reflection of a symbolic tea service, black with disuse. On either side were cracked but none the iess beautiful vases, which appeared to be empty but which on closer examination revealed countless clippings and knick-knacks. Yes, indeed, it was a veritable storehouse, but its panelled doors hid from the casual observer Grandmother ' s cherished possessions. None but the bearer of a key could explore those hidden recesses, stacked high with pottery — cracked and chipped — yes, but to Grandmother every crack and chip brought back a flood of memories. MARGARET RIDDELL Master Jimmy I F you take a walk down Hyde Street, just after I school is called, you will see Master Jimmy scurrying along the sidewalk with a tricycle. He watches the school windows with his sharp brown eyes. If no face appears, he hurries round the corner to the grocery store. His chubby fingers grip his sides as he chuckles to himself, My, those are nice bananas in the window. The store door is open and no one is in sight. He scrambles over the counter and takes so much time selecting the best banana that the storekeeper surprises him in the act. At first the storekeeper looks angrily at this marauder with brown hair, iarge ears and a pug nose. But Jimmy ' s innocent and cunning smile causes him to laugh. He picks up the little scamp, and sets him on the floor. Then, in monkey language, Jimmy heart- ily thanks him for the banana. GLADYS LYONS

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GENERAL SCIENCE CLUB Back Row — C. Jones, I. Mahler, S. Liddle, E. Caughlin, N. Smart. Front Row — W. Sloan (Sec.-Treas.) , W. Searson (Pres.), Dr. Hofferd (Hon. Pres.), G. Stinson (Vice-Pres. M. Styles. Absent — Miss I. Davidson. GIRLS ' BASKETBALL TEAM Back Row — A. McGugan, M. Cudney, J. Evans, A. Green (Coach), M. Leverton, H. Gloin, D. Adams. Froni- Row — M. Linsley, M. Lawler, M. Riddell, J. Rutherford. BOYS ' BASKETBALL TEAM Back Row — H. Brown, A. Morton, F. Miller, D. McCormick. Front Row — G. Simpson, A. Green (Captain), J. Garrett.