North Toronto Collegiate Institute - Howler Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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THE HOlVLER,1934 songs, and play for them upon her harp. She showed a real interest in their pastimes and soon became almost as skilful as they with the distaff and loom. She taught them new methods of embroidery, and amused herself by making designs for them to copy. She set herself to learn their language, so harsh and difficult to her tongue. Before a year had passed, she had mastered it so completely that they could not find a single Haw in her speech. Her mirror revealed to her that she was growing more and more beautiful and she did not neglect herself for a day. She spent long hours brushing her rich, dark hair until it shone. She enquired of her companions as to their beauty secrets, and arose at daybreak to bathe her soft, rosy cheeks in the morning dew. Meanwhile Arviragus was away most of the time fighting. There were fierce men from the north to subdue and rebellious subjects to punish. Then, too, he had to settle disputes among the nobles, and help them with their plans for new towns. Qne day, during a period of peace, he was wandering in his garden, when he came upon a woman feeding the swans. He paused, and watched her for some time, wondering at the grace of her movements and the whiteness of her arms. Then he approached the river bank. Never before, he said, has such beauty gladdened my eyes. From whence dost thou come? The lady stooped to stroke the soft neck of a swan. I am one of the women from the castle, my lord, she answered softly, and craving your pardon, I must return forthwith, for there are matters which need my attention. For the next three days, the king, himself, fed the swans. He arrived early, and gave them their food with prolonged and assidu- ous attention. Meanwhile, the lady, no doubt seeing that the birds were so well taken care of, thought it quite unnecessary to appear. On the fourth morning, however, she was in her accustomed place when Arviragus came out with his basket 3 and together, they threw the bread and watched the swans dip their graceful creamy necks into the water for it. When the Vuyft' l7o1'ly-Tlzwt' last piece was gone the lady arose to return, but the king took her by the hand. Stay, he cried, and walk along the river bank with me. Thou are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and my heart is foolish with love for thee. The lady blushed, and looked down. But thou hast already a wife, my lordf' she reproved him. The king scowled. A Roman! he cried. Ill-favoured no doubt. I have never even seen her face, nor heard her voice. I shall put her away and take thee in her stead. But since I know thee not save through 1ny love, tell me, I pray thee, who thou art, and thy fathe-r's name and station. The lady lifted her face and smiled, while her eyes twinkled demurely. I fear greatly, she answered, that my name will please thee not. It is Genuissa. daughter of Claudius, and queen, although never wife to Arviragus. A year later, Arviragus was going north into battle. He was taking a tender farewell of his wife. VVhen shalt thou return F she asked. I cannot tell, he replied. It may be many days. In that case, she said smiling, thy son may be here to welcome thee. Arviragus kissed her again. May the Gods be kind to you both, he breathed with trembling lips. On going out, he called for his leech and commanded him. See that the queen suffer not when the child is born. Procure for her Morian wine from the Roman city of Verulaneum, to make her sleep. And I charge thee to beware lest my son leave his mother even one wrinkle from pain. When Arviragus returned, Genuissa was lying in her truckle-bed while near the fire the women attended a screaming, lusty infant that squirmed and kicked at their ministra- tions. Thou art more beautiful than ever, my sweet, said the king to his wife. Would that I were rich, for then I should like to build me a city that would forever tell the world of fContinued on page 451

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PGM' F1 7'fj 1:U1lI' TH E H O IVI. E R, 1 93 4 Q C. X y . . s a.HddQZ ZEJ fha d',60,'i2evf+jai1-. ifgii K By XYILLIAM XVooD VVALKICD slowly into High Park. The terrific din caused by the cars and the hur- rying, restless shoppers and tradesmen still rang in my ears. For days I had been search- ing for a job-and hours of that monotonous tramping drove me nearly crazy. I sat down with a sigh of relief on an empty but wel- coming park bench. A morning paper was scattered over it and I man- W :rl ,N aged to reas- -' semble t h e ,K I majority of '44 , A the pieces. ' gli 1 ,- Theltork ,,,e y Wfanted col- I 7 . umns stared -A. at me bale- ' .- fully, p a g e REEY-LELAS I' 1 after page of marvellous opportunities for brilliant sales- men, carpenters and laborers. Nature had not been very kind to me. I had been rich, powerful and important. Now I was suited for nothing. I glanced bitterly at the edi- torials and the screeching headlines they had. A slight jarring shook the bench and I realized I had been joined by a companion in mis- fortune. As he sat down beside me on that Saturday morning I knew him to be a man with a grievance. I have met his kind on trains, in buses, on park benches, and their stories, which are always easy to draw out, are occa- sionally rather interesting. I opened my paper wider, and began to scan the headlines. Almost instantly I recognized the pressure of the shoulder, the craning neck that meant that my companion had risen to the bait of free news. I made a pretence of noticing him for the first time, and noddedl politely. His face seemed oddly familiar. Good afternoon, I said. He did not notice my greeting but continued PRIZE SHORT STORY to stare over my shoulder. Headlines, he murmured, life and ad- venture at a glance. How I love them! Yes, I said, they certainly satisfy the craving for the sensational. I used to be an editor myself once, he went on, his eyes eagerly absorbing the printed page, so I feel their power more than the average person. Ah ! I said, and doubtless you have some good stories to tell about scare headlines that never reached the press. I have - one, he said, looking at me for the first time, his little bald head cocked on one side, his mournful blue eyes striving to recall dim memories and misty faces. Your face seems vaguely familiar, he added abrupt- ly, somewhere I've-but to go on to my only story. It happened to me personally. I leaned back and waited for his grievance The sun was shining in Slavogia, but the hearts of its inhabitants were heavy and grey. And in Verson, the capital city of the little state people drew in each breath carefully, as if laboring under a heavy burden. In the newspaper offices the greyness of the dull routine pervaded everything, from the dusty files to the even dustier printers and proof-readers. As for the little editor, he was but a shadow of a man. He was well-paid and well-housed, but there was something missing from his life. To an editor, the hum of an office, the clicking of many typewriters, and all the pleasant noises connected with gathering news and putting it out for an avid public are life itself. But in Verson the press was muzzled. Revolution had broken out. The king and queen had disappeared, none knew where-and the country was ruled by the heavy hand of a Dictator. He had whirled into power, riding at the head of a large and victorious army. The people welcomed him with open arms. But disillusionment soon came, as they labored under his ever-increas- ing despotism.