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

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VOX F L U MI N I S Page Eighteen ........ .... . ..... .-.....-.-.-....................-..... ..... .-... .-...-..-.-......--..--..-... ........................-.......-........un i....................................................... --.. ....- .-..........-...-.......-.... ...........................-..-..-...-....... Then grasping a bottle in his hand, Behind the barrel took his stand, And with the bottle poised in air He brought it down on poor Sloth's hair. 'Tec Sloth, he crumpled to the floor, His senses left, he knew no- more, And Cohen grabbed him by the feet And tied them, and his hands complete. And when the boat put into shore, Mose took him to the court-room door, And placing him upon a seat, Addressed the judge in accents sweet. I've brought to you this wayward cop, . I found trespassing on my yacht. I hope that you will lock him in, Ten days in jail will not harm him. The judge he grinned from ear to ear, Pal Cohen, have you any beer? That cop was discharged long ago- He was far too honest for us you know. And so a party they all then had, And poor old Sloth, he sure was mad! For looking out between the bars, Had nought to do but count the stars. Moral: Don't be a policeman in the U.S.A. fOne who knowsj i.e., -Susan Thomas, Grade X. ' ' PADDIE ' '-A COCKER SPANIEL Paddie, a thoroughbred Cocker spaniel, was born in Vancouver in 1930, at the Kingston Dog Kennels. He was a noisy little fellow with long silky ears that appeared to sweep the ground on both sides of him. His fur was black and glossy with one little white toe. A handsome dog, to be sure, and quite well aware of it. A tiny, roly poly thing, silent only when he was sound asleep, which was seldom. One day, to his great indignation, he was placed in a piano box for molesting the older, more sedate dogs nearly to death. Here he was dis- covered digging frantically for an imaginary rabbit. Yipping madly at being free, he was pulled out by a young girl. Struggling in her arms, shaking his furry body from side to side, he licked the girl's face clean. What a little beauty he was as he strutted around displaying himself at every opportunity! He really asked to be loved with all his tiny heart and

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Page Seventeen VOX FL UMINI5' The music of fairy laughter's sweet And spells are wrought by their dancing feet. Can't you hear the fairy bells? And believe once more in the wee folks' spells. Find the key to elfland's door And wander its magic realms once more. . Learn make believe. -Margaret Aldous, Grade IX. i.,...... MODERN BALLAD ON AN AMERICAN RACKETEER f2nd Placej Mosey Cohen. a racketeer, Was famed throughout for his near beer. He used to live beside a still And was known to his friends as Three Bottle Bill. He loaded his boats at dead of night. The time of day when there is no light, And promenaded in his socks To make less noise, in case of cops. The village detective, Herman Sloth, Could smell near beer a full mile off, And going to the- boat yard's quay, He found his scent was not astray. Quietly he stole up on the dock, And into a barrel he did hop, Then over his head he pulled the lid, So now he was completely hid. This barrel was rolled 'mid jerks and jolts, And placed in one of the smuggler's boats. O, gracious me ! thought Sloth, 'Tm stranded, For what can I do single handed. And in the barrel upon his knees, He found he simply had to sneeze, And doing so to his despair, He blew the lid off in the air. Mosey Cohen, who was standing near, Said Ho! what is that noise I hear? Bless my bottles! It's P.C. Sloth, I'1l give him this to help his cough.

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Page Nineteen VOX FLUMINIS .........-...U........-.-........--................................. ................................................-..-....................-..... .... ... ...... . ..... ............. soul. This girl that had released him seemed to take special interest in the young tyke and offered to purchase him. He was not an expensive dog for his breed. Paddie had made a friend and he was bought that day. He did not realize quite just what was happening but he knew that he did like these kind people to pamper him. Trying so hard to please them he would stretch out his soft red tongue and lick their hands. Soon these people went away. leaving a very sorrowful and dejected pup behind them. Poor Paddie was to be sent out to the farm till August. Then he was to be sent to where his newly-found mistress lived. At the end of August a large box arrived at the home of the young girl. It contained a shivering black puppy, very much frightened by the jostling he had received. Was it Paddy? It looked like him, but was it? No! Poor little Paddie had died and in his place came little, shivering Pat, his twin. Attached to his collar was a note: Dear Miss June: Your tiny little friend died just before he was to be sent to you. So in his place we send you wee Pat, a friendly pup, that will try his best to fill Paddy's place. Please take him. I know he will be a good dog. Yours sincerely, QMrs.j Lounton. --June Gerow, l--- Grade VIII. A STREET SCENE I am going to take you down to New York to a street in a slum district. This street is long, narrow, and very dirty. Tenement houses are on all sides, with the occasional Italian grocery store between, and very often a saloon underneath wretched houses. In one part of the street we see some small girls, in short, tattered dresses, playing marbles. A fight among some sixteen year old boys is at its very height as we pass down the street. An Italian organ-grinder with his monkey is wailing out many discordant strains of The Peanut Vender, and we give him a quarter and pass on. On the steps of one tenement house sits a girl of perhaps fifteen, holding two sticky, dirty children on her lap. She is talking with a very old lady, sitting on a chair on the upper porch which is strewn with the day's washing. Ne-xt we pass a saloon which is crowded with drunkards. ' The whole atmosphere of the street is filthy, children with melting candy sliding down the upper banisters, garbage strewn hither and thither, ghastly odors from one-room homes, and tobacco smelling everywhere. Yet on this hot day, everybody seems happy, minding their own business. making the best of nothing. How glad we are when we leave this street and breathe pure air again! -Shirley Johnston, Grade VIII.