Midland Secondary School - Yearbook (Midland, Ontario Canada)

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Page Thirty M. H. S. REVIEW The following narrative, by Ruth E. Sylvester, was awarded Hrst prize in the story contest.-lEditor's Note.j . The Mirage Let the reader imagine that, after travelling for hours across a track- less waste of burning sand in the arid deserts of the East, he has, when tormented by thirst, made the discr lery that his supply of water has failed. The last muddy drops are eagerly drained, the eyes, the mouth, and the ears are gradually filled with the fine sand of the desert until it is felt that a cup of cold water from a spring would be cheaply purchas- ed by its weight in gold. At this moment when such is the traveller's tortured state of mind and body, he suddenly sees an object which, to his surprise, he has not noticed before. In the distance is seen a large lake, its banks are fringed with verdant palms, its surface is broken here and there by islets of refreshing green, while its water seems ten times more inviting when contrasted with the burning solitudes around. Re- animated by the prospect, he presses on, eager to quench his thirst. As he advances, a strange spectacle is witnessed. The lake recedes as he approaches it. Again and again he advances, but again and again it re- tires, until exhausted by fatigue, and tortured by thirst, he sinks in des- pair on the sand, realizing that all is deception and that he has been chasing the Mirage of the desert. This unusual appearance is an optical illusion produced by the re- iiection of objects on the oblique rays of the sun refracted by the air which is rarified in the desert by the intense heat of the soil. A remarkable instance of this curious phenomenon occurred during the passage of the French army across the desert at the time of Napol- eon's expedition to Egypt. When morning dawned, says the historian who describes the scene, the army was found crossing boundless plains of sand without water or shade, and with a burning sun over their heads. All the wells on the roads were either filled up or exhausted. Hardly a few drops of muddy water were to he found to quench their thirst. In the midst of the general depression, a sudden gleam of hope illuminated the faces of the soldiers. A lake appeared in the wilderness with villages and tress clearly reflected on its glassy surface. Immedi- ately the parched troops hurried toward the enchanted spot, but it receded from their steps. Again they pressed on with burning impatience, but it ded for ever from their approach. At length overpowered by excite- ment they discovered that they had been deceived by the Mirage of the desert. In particular climates, at certain seasons of the year, there are seen in the ocean and the sky, representations or Mirages of cities, groves, mountains, bridges and ruined castles of utmost magnificence but of most evanescent duration. Like some splendid phantasmagoria they fill the spectator with astonishment and delight, then vanish into the air, oras- sume with great rapidity new combinations ever more beautiful than be- fore, Some English voyagers in the Arctic regions were so enraptured with these wonderful visions that they named the place Where they were seen the enchanted coast.

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M. H. S. REVIEW Page Twenty-Nine Qlumni-:Enntinueb Joseph Hinds is working in Toronto. Allan McMillan works in Algonquin Park. Evelyn Marks is at Barrie Collegiate Institute. Stewart Raaflaub is sailing. Graham Swales is working in his father's store, Jack Topping is in New York. Phylis Webster is at home. Albert VVhiting is sailing. Germaine Dion is at home. Tweedie Sturgeon is working in town. Harvey White is employed at Ruby's Bake Shop. Morris Anderson is in Kitchener. Augusta Bailey is at home. Margaret Blevins is at home. Harold Brownlee is attending the International Bible Students. Frazer Davenport is working at the Midland Wood Products. Josephine DeFinney is attending St. Joseph' Convent, Lindsay. Grant Fowlie is in Vancouver, B.C. Helen French is at home. Carl Kay is going to school in Toronto. Joseph Lapp is employed at the Midland Wood Products. William Lucas is in Toronto. Hickey McDonald is attending Agincourt High School. Arthur Pilon is attending Midland Business College. Evelyn Shaw is at home. Albert Taylor is working at Loblaw's. Lorene Smith is a stenographer at Dobson's. Leonard Mongraw is sailing. Stewart Bald sails. James Cowan is at home. William Gleadall is working at Yorke Sz Mackie's. William Hughes is employed at the Midland Bakery. Clarence McClung is at home. Naomi Tremblay is at home. Mark Vasey is sailing. Lloyd Warner is working at Bill Wilson's Tailor Shop. We have no definite knowledge of the following :-Jean Rumney, Mary Thompson, Ayress Cornfield, Jennie McConkey, Frank Holmes, William Wimperley, Dorothy Barry, Elizabeth Graham, Clara Gravelle, Herbert Johnson, Jean Kennie, Irene Marcille, Bruce Rush, Jean Tutton, Marjorie Wheat, Neal Baker and Charles Baker.

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M. H. S. REVIEW Page Thirty-One Such in different aspects is the Mirage of nature. As the Mirage fades in the sky, so vanishes terrestrial glory, realizing the words of 2, poet :- Where is the world in which a man was born 'T Alas! where is the world of eight years past 'Y 'Twas there-I look for it--'tis goneg a globe of glass, Cracked, shivered, vanished, scarcely gazed upon Ere a silent change dissolves the glittering mass. From the Mirage of the desert may be illustrated the Mirage of life. Journeying like a pilgrim across the wilderness of this world, man thirsts for happiness. One man is deceived by the Mirage of Pleasure, another by the Mirage of Ambition, a third by the Mirage of Wealth. Each ap- pears promising in the distance but prove, when approached, deceptive as the Mirage of the desert. RUTH SYLVESTFR. Summer at 3901112 fgfter .Svunsztl The solemn group of clouds Move slowly across the sky, Night enshrouds the valley Like a veil, drawn over all. The loitering wind brings with it The sound of lowing cattle From the far-off pasture fields. The birds have ceased their singing, And have gone to rest, in their bowcry nest, While every sound is hushed away, At the closing of a Summer Day. -Agatha Carpenter.