Lowe High School - Towers Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

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26 The Windsor-Walkerville Technical School N ear Book joy and happiness. Be thankful that at least you can say in all truth that “I’m a good sport” and take the game of life with good humour, with determination, with energy. JEAN DKYO—T3A. -o- THE PIONEER’S FAREWELL (Prize Poem) Farewell to the hills and the vales of the west. The great rolling prairies, the land 1 loved best; The trails that I rode in the days that are gone. For country and empire, the land that 1 won. Farewell to the rivers, the long prairie grass, The birds on the wing, the long narrow pass, Farewell to the snow on the mountain top high, The soft fleecy clouds and the blue western sky. Farewell once again to the great spreading plain. The soft balmy showers, the sweet golden grain. The great towering mountains where wild sheep dwell. Farewell to the west, farewell, farewell. The pioneer has gone, may God give him rest! He sleeps by the mountains, his face to the west. And the great golden sun as it sinks every night, Throws its last long rays on his little cross white. CHAS. FISHER—T4. — -o- JONQUILS Chas. Fisher Tall, graceful swaying blossoms, Upon such slender stems, Sweet jonquils truly are Nature’s richest gems. A bloom of palest yellow, A sunbeam’s prisoned there, And in the light it gleams, So radiant, so fair. But all too soon they wither, The yellow flowers die, And Mother Nature passing near Wipes a tear-drop front her eye. SUMMER EVENING A fading rose-gray sunset seen Above a meadow emerald green. Above a mill pond’s placid sheen. At twilight. Gone the sunset’s blazing red. The golden clouds have turned to lead, The first faint stars shine overhead, Tis nigh night. The new moon’s faintly silver beam Finds echo irt the silver stream A host of stars in splendor gleam. And shine bright. WINNIFRED BURTON—C3B. -o - WINTER The snow has fallen steadily all day, The earth is covered with a blanket white The flakes, so delicate, reflect the ray. Of the moon’s cold frosty light. The sodden withered grass is covered over, The trees stand up like sentinels aloof, The breath above the people’s lips does hover. The blue smoke hovers too above the roof. Within the house, the fire-place is lighted. The children coming in from play crowd round To see the shooting flames like elves • affrighted. And hear the pleasant, crackling cracking sound. An evening of fun before the fire, Of eating chestnuts, apples and popped corn. And stories and sweet songs till all do tire, And then to rest until the bright clear morn. MARY DesROSIERS—C3B. -o- THE TREASURE SHIP (13 Line Rondel) A gallant ship goes sailing west, Its snow-white sails all set, The wild winds moan and fret, As it sails o’er the white wave’s crest. And it goes on a long, lone quest, The gleaming deck is wet. A gallant ship goes sailing west, Its snow-white sails all set. It seeks a golden treasure chest. And dangers will be met, Tho’ everything is safety yet, And o’er the oceans heaving breast, A gallant ship goes sailing west. CHAS. FISHER.

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The Windsor-WalkerviHe Technical School Year Book 25 is your little daughter ! M I got frightened and hid myself behind the woman but finally I realized that this strange man was my father. So ended our long-deferred and lengthy journey. I hope that some day you may all travel to Europe but under more happy circum¬ stances. SADIE WEISBERG—C2B. o MOVING I was late in starting my school term, and as the number of lockers were limited, 1 was given one on the third floor, among the boys When my books arrived from the supply room, I spent a busy half- hour trying to fit them all into the very small space allowed each of us for this purpose. After a period of some weeks I became accustomed to my surround¬ ings and acquainted with my neigh¬ bors. Then, out of an apparently clear sky, decended a summons (or invitation) to the office. The prin¬ cipal said he had found a locker for me among the girls lockers on the second floor. I was presented with a key and told to move my books immediately. 1 went back to my locker to find a girl rummaging among its contents for I had left the key in the door on my hasty de¬ parture. “Oh, you must enter this poem in the Year Book! was her apology. When she heard of my prospec¬ tive move, she instantly enlisted to help me. The first load was trans¬ ferred safely. The second one con¬ sisted of pencil stubs (how do we ever manage to collect so many?) loose pages from note books, some of the less frequently used books, pens, rubbers, gymnasium shoes and my out-of-door clothing. My friend started down the hall while I remained to gather together a few odds and ends. 1 was startled by a scream and running to the head of the stairs I saw my dictionary on the first step, then a pencil, next a rubber. Picking these things up T rounded the bend in the stairs and caught my friend in the act of try¬ ing to hold in her arms those things which she had not already dropped, and attempting to keep her balance after a misstep, and kicking my Sun- day-go-to-meeting hat, all at once. (I never did approve of football for girls, especially when the ball hap¬ pens to he one’s best hat.) Rescuing my hat, I proceeded with great dignity to my new locker. Here I was forced to await the arrival of my friend who had possessed her¬ self of my key. We immediately set to work arranging my locker as best we could in the few remaining mo¬ ments. and hat in hand 1 was about to close the door when 1 saw my gymnasium shoes showing a ten¬ dency to fall from their place upon a shaky pile of books below. Before that catastrophe could occur I slammed the door and as I turned the key I heard a landslide inside the locker. At any rate nothing was outside. BEULAH HYER—C2D. . y SPORTSMANSHIP No period in our existence is so bright and fair as that of youth. Then it is that we plan to reach the pinnacle of fame and success. But when life opens out in full bloom so few of us really taste the riches dreamed of in past days. Instead, we are touched by the bitter reality that “Life is real, Life is earnest” and not a flowery path to be trod by carefree feet. However there is con¬ solation in the fact that if we are ‘good sports nothing will daunt us. Our battle cry will be ‘Forward to the Fray.” So, reader, let there be a light shining on your path leading you to

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The YY’indsor-YY ' alkerville Technical School Year Book 27 THE PASSING OF THE SEASONS Spring Spring is coming! Spring is coming! Can ' t you hear the bees a-humming? Now is the time for fairies and sprites. Out in the glens and dales bright nights Summer Little brooklets gently singing. Meadow-larks in the blue sky winging. Daisies star the fields with white. Like a silver mantle bright Autumn Scarlet berries and leaves aflame Approaching Autumn mutely proclaims Morning frosts hejewel the hedges, East winds whistle through the sedges. Winter Trees their bare heads gauntly rear. And sadly sigh for Autumn ' s death. Winter ' s shroud spreads o ' er the ground A perfect settiivg for a world so drear. Thus the seasons come and pass. Spring comes first and winter last. Just as our lives here on earth. Sometimes show sadness and sometimes mirth. H. HA ISM AN—C2A. -o- UPON THOUGHT Upon thought, the days bring not. Just ijuite what they really ought; Sometimes it ' s hard to sing a song. For everything, somehow, goes wrong. YY’hy this is so, I do not know. But all throughout my mind they go— These thoughts, that vaguely are defined. As memories of other days of mine. But. as the hours, the days, the years, Pass—with each its smile or tear. Comes the thought, to my mind then brought, “The days bring not what they really ought. MURIEL EARL—C3B -o- MY SUNKEN GARDEN A tiny petal softly clinging. A wild wood vine, so softly swinging, A tiny spot of magic touch. My sunken garden is as much! A tiny cupid flutters here—flutters there, everywhere A mystic atmosphere is near. Filling the roamer’s heart with wonder. Sending realistic worlds asunder. Softly the moss beneath my feet, Gives way, as a fairyland I greet. That world is fair—hut, oh! your pardon! I haven ' t described—My Sunken Garden I MURIEL EARL—C3B. THE HALL GOOP He runs through the hall. Bouncing like a hall. Bumping into other people, YY ' ho are not like him at all. Leaving his locker open, Dodging in and out. Throwing things here and there. As he gives a lusty shout. Dashing down the hall. He makes a swift bee-line, To the fountain, running tall, Leaving all his class behind. Have you seen this crazy goop Running in our halls? Shall vc banish him forever From within Tech’s walls? BELLA SUMMERS—Cl Y -o- FRANCE 1 would I were in the land of France, Where romance still holds sway, And the peasant lives his humble life. As he did in bygone days. YYTiere grim old castles still o ' ertower— The peaceful country scene. And the little rivers take their way. Thru meadows fresh and green. YVhen still the old-world country inn,— YY ' elcomcs the traveller worn, And the bees drone round the scented flowers, On the balmy summer morn. I would love to roam your countryside— And the cities bright and gay, Ah! I would, I were in the land of France. YYherc romance still holds sway. CHAS. FISHER. -o- THE COMING OF SPRING The joys of winter time are fleeting, And each and every one ' s agreeing, That we are glad as glad can be, The slowly melting snow to see. In the heart of every girl and boy. Comes a feeling of the greatest joy, As they think of the joys of gladsome spring And the songs the bluebird and robin sing. The violets so blue spring up ' neath the trees. And the May flowers and crocuses dance in the breeze, While the rabbits and squirrels run through the wood. And wouldn ' t bring winter back if they could. BEATRICE GIGNAC—C3A.