Peterborough Collegiate and Vocational School - Echoes Yearbook (Peterborough, Ontario Canada)

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THE Ecnoas 31 A R51 THE setting for this reverie is that part of the historic Bay of Quinte at Picton, Ontario. NVhitechapel is one of the first Methodist Churches in Canada-built in the year l809f and stands today in its quaint church- yard on the wind-swept hill overlook- 'erff ing the beautiful bay. It was around this little church that much of the life of the staunch United Empire Loyal- ists centred, and the graves of many, including those of my own grand- parents, still nestle in its sacred old burying ground. The wind, where sway the rain-drenched lilacs now, Is that the wind from out the bay's far gleam? Or alien gale that stirs a squall and whines To mock away my dream? Has Maytime loosed the slumbering cascade yet, Until it surges with a boisterous rush? Or is it last springs melodies that haunt My soul's sad hush? I hear forefathers raise their lusty hymns, VVithin NVhitechapel where they sang of oldg - I see their grax es deep hid beneath tall grass - O hearts so nobly bold! Still holds the steep shoreline its turbid cove Where black snakes poke their heads, then slip below? Do dormant clams and shells begem the beach As just a year ago? At sundown floats the bay upon its breast A ship with low sails anchored 'gainst the tide? Do eerie screeches sound and far resound Adown the other side? Oh! Give me two strong wings that like the gull I might sweep o'er the bay and up the hillg For what was dear and sweet all yesteryear Is dearest, sweetest still. JEAN WARREN PLATT, IV B Acad.

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30 THE EcHoEs My Library FIRST PRIZE, JUNIOR INIIDDLE SCHOOL 0NE Christmas I was presented with three little books. I had just learned to read, and these were the first books I had ever had all my own. VVith horror I followed the terrifying adventures of the Little Red Hen, spelling out the words with my linger. St. Nicholas had no more fervent admirer than I, as I visualized him dropping down the sooty chimney: and with tender compassion I read that great Christmas story of long. long, ago -the first Christmas. The 'iLittle Red Hen died of pure love. I regret to say I read it too much, and its disintegrated parts found their way to the dust-bin. The other two little volumes set out on the long trail to the west - the mission- aries wanted books. But my library did not stop there. Its growth has been slow but steady. I progressed through Peter Rabbit and Uncle XViggily and such childish woodlore, then the more reasonable works of Charles G. D. Roberts, and, finally, my endeavours in anthropology had their birth in the multitudinous pages of lVells' Ufflutline of History. I had, perforce, to seek new fields. Soon Alcott's books appeared on the shelf - 'tLittle Women and Little Men. Tom Brown's School Days will always occupy an honoured place on my shelves. The volumes of my childhood end with Crawfords Little City of Hope. I began, at last, to read in earnest. At a comparatively late date, Steven- son s Kidnapped and Treasure Island took their place on my shelves. I remember I could not at first under- stand whether the Fifteen men on a dead man's chest were sitting on a box, or acting as a sort of poultice to the deceased. At a later date, light began to show. Distinguished authors soon began to shine on the shelves. Scott, Dickens, Shakespeare, Gatier, Stratton-Porter, Ebers, Beaconsfield, Scott, Connor, and Yerne-all the great Honour Roll of authors Whose books will be read forever, and forever admired- I have, and love them all. Few people can realize what travel- ling I have done, and in what company. I have lain on the wet Highland moors with David Balfour, as Stevenson himself must have done. I have rid- den by the side of the Prince of Orange to fight the Spaniard, though I doubt if Ebers knew it. With T ancred, Beacons- field and I have made our pilgrimage over the burning plains of the East, and I sat with Bob Cratchett, warming my hands over the selfsame candle. I know what the inside of a debtor's prison looks like, and with Scott's julian Peveril have I lain in a dungeon in the Tower of London. I have fought the beasts in the arena at Romeg and with the Thracian Spartacus have I fought, sword in hand, through the mountains of Italy. But another library I possess - the library of memory. I know not how many volumes are in that great libra- ry' of books I have read but do not own, but I know and love them all. I can read them any time, for they need not be carried with me. It is my great library, and it can never be taken from me. My library! What meaning the word possesses. It is not merely morocco covers and printed pages, it is love, honour, truth, justice, history - all the knowledge of the past, and it is all mine. Certainly the greatest gift of a Divine Creator to his greatest creation was the gift of writing and reading, and the mind to understand. May it never be lost, for it holds, forever, the key to every door. BARRIE JACK, III A Acad.

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32 A Visit to the Royal MZ.71l THIRD PRIZE LET us all take a trip to The Royal Mint, situated in the beautiful city of Ottawa, the capital of our fair Dominion. On account of the great treasure contained within these gates it will be necessary for each of us to secure a pass. We see a police- man standing outside and several guards inside, one of these unlocks the great gate, permitting us to enter the yard, and relocks the gate after us. The guard leads the way across the yard to a door which he opens and allows us to enter a large room similar to a rotunda. In the centre of this room is placed a desk upon which is a large register in which each of us will put his name and address before proceeding onward. The guard opens another very heavy door and beckons us to enter another room, after which he securely locks the door after us. Here we notice a number of workmen employed in melting nickel from large blocks, till it runs like water. It runs into moulds and when cool enough is put through rollers which flatten it out into strips about two and a half inches wide. These strips are then put through stamping machines which punch holes in them the same size as our nickels. The parts which are punched are put into another machine which puts a rim around each edge. These nickels are then put through a number of machines till, at last, after being stamped, we see a Perfect Canadian Nickel, new and shining, weighed, counted and sent to the Government vaults to be stored until required by our banks. The system of weighing gold is very accurate. They do not weigh this money in large open rooms on account of the change in weight of the air. For this reason it is weighed in a small room, not more than eight feel square, made of glass. GRMA LACHEUR, H H. Arts THE EcHoEs English Schools THIRD PRIZE I ONCE spent three months in an English council school and found it very interesting. The school I attended was Walker-Gate School, situated on Walker-Gate Road, Newcastle-on Tyne, not far from a railway depot. This railway brought many other students to the school. The school is a long, two-storey structure. The first floor contains all the rooms for the boys. and the top floor those for the girls. As there is no communication between the two floors it is essential to have two assembly halls. As I was never on the top floor I know nothing about it. All my knowledge of English schools was learned from the bottom floor. The assembly hall contains no seats, which means that while not standing one must sit on the floor. The seats of the students are all double, giving them plenty of opportunities to talk. The teacher is seated on a high stool so that she may look over the whole class. The grounds around this building are very small, with a stone floor. They are enclosed with large iron spikes, the only entrance or exit being the huge iron gate which is locked when school is in session. The studies are similar to ours. Examinations are held every month, and are conducted by the principal, whom they call the 'tmasterf' On all examinations the maximum is fifty. After passing through the last class in a council school one is ready for a secondary school. All books in the council schools, with the exception of one, are provided free, although no fees are paid. These schools differ greatly from ours. Our teachers teach us to write on a slant, but there one is taught to write a perpendicular hand. Our 1' is written r. The seating plan is different also. Our classes are called junior II., Senior II., etc., while theirs are called standards, and range from one to seven. I. BOLAM, IB Commercial