Riverbend School for Girls - Vox Fluminis Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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Page Seventeen VOX FL U M I NI S OUR OLD FLAG Do you remember our old blue and white school flag that used to wave where our new building now stands? If it were to talk I wonder what it would say. Perhaps it might tell us this: When I look down I am able to see for miles around me. I see some lovely things and others that are poor and pitiful. I watch the .same people coming the same way at the same time every day. In winter I see many cars skid and when at dangerous corners I see accidents where people hurt or kill themselves. In the afternoons I look below me and watch the girls of Riverbend School to which I belong. g In the fall, I watch the girls coming back to school from their holi- days and playing out on the lawn. They practise baseball. high-jumping. broad-jumping, racing and other games. While they all study hard in the morning I peek through the windows of Riverbend or watch the other people. Then comes Field Day. I'm sure I get just as much fun out of it, watching the different classes compete, as any of the competitors or spectators. Then the cold winds blow and I'm almost sure that I will be blown off my high and interesting vantage point. Then the river begins to harden and the snow begins to fall, and when the girls come out to play they are all bundled up in fur coats and over clothes. They play very different games from those in the fall. Skiing, tobogganing. skating and playing in the snow, are their chief occupations during the afternoons. Then soon the ice on the river melts and the snow begins to vanish, and when the grass is as dry as before the winter the girls leaving off their heavier clothes come out and begin playing as in the fall. r When June comes there is a great reception out on the lawn and the girls are clad in white. There are festivities galore, and I grow sad be- cause I know they will now gather up their books and go home. This is almost the saddest day of the year for me, because I know for three long months I will not see them nor their gay play hour. Though I lift my head up and gaze all over the city watching other little girls playing hop scotch or older people playing tennis on the corner courts, I am never as happy as when I am watching the girls of Riverbend School. -Gwen Ramsay, Grade VII. THE PUSSY WILLOWS Pretty Pussy VVillows Budding on the trees, VVrapped in little furry coats To shield you from the breeze. Pretty Pussy Willows Do not go so soon, Stay with us please, just another noon. -Marguerite McDonald, Grade III.

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Page Nineteen VOX FLUMINIS THE CROCUS W Pretty little crocus Peeping through the ground, Waiting in your purple dress, Until you should be found. -Gloria Brown, Grade III. li SPRING Spring time is here again. The sky is blue and clear again, Streams are flowing, Flowers are growing, Helped by the April rain. -Margaret Stovel, Grade III. A WALK IN oc'roBER woons On taking a walk through the Autumn woods on a crisp, clear, Gctober day, what a change I find from the summer time. The bright green leaves have turned to yellow and brown with here and there a touch of crimson showing through. Most of the birds have gone south, only the sparrows, wrens, crows. and the chattering bluejay remain. From above comes the clang of wild geese on their southward way. The chattering squirrels are very busy storing up their nuts, enough to last them through the long cold winter. Un my last walk I came upon a tree with a large hollow in it. Looking inside I saw a great number of nuts, obviously some squirrels' winter supply. Then I heard a loud chattering, looking up I beheld the owner of those nuts chattering away, and giving me a piece of his mind about disturbing other people's private property. I laughed and threw an acorn at him and walked away. As I went farther, I came to a pond, which now looked cold and grey. In the summer time I used to sit in my window listening to the songs of these frogs, who are now buried in the mud at the bottom of this pond. I walked on 5 now and then a squirrel or chipmunk darted across my path. This was the first walk I had taken along my favorite little path since the summer time 5 it was then I began to realize that winter was near, and it' was high time I was putting up the bird houses and repairing them so that they would be strong enough to last through the strong winter winds. --Gladys Cotterell, Grade VII. THE TRAGIC TALE OF SIR TINTSEL I wonder if you've e'er been told The story of Sir Tintsel bold Who wooed a lady sweet and fair, VVith dark brown eyes and golden hair.