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

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Page Twenty-five VOX FLUMINIS Oh! the wild joys of learning! the leaping from book unto book- The scratch of a noisy pen writing in some hidden nook, Of history, chemistry, Latin-the hunt for the lair Of a hidden equation, where only the brave may dare Through mazes of figures and letters-the odor divine From the chemistry lab., where strange metals combine To form fumes and solutions, salt, acid or base- The pursuit of elusive French verbs and the case Cf a Latinextraction-and old English verse, For instance-Gray's thoughts on a hearse- How great is man's mind-for mere learning, how fit to employ All the brain and the senses together-for knowledge is joy. fWith apologies to Robert Browningb -Betty Ray Parton, Grade XI. A RIVER I am a river, but I didn't start that way. I started my first journey in the skies and fell as glistening raindrops, into a little hollow. Others fell in the same hollow, and we soon filled it up, and started to overflow, down the hill. As we became bigger, and covered more ground, many, many other raindrops joined us, until we became about six feet across. We followed a ravine that led down the gentle slope, it was a gentle slope, and very beautiful too, covered with different hues of flowers. At the bottom of the slope, we entered a small forest, and rushed along, covering the roots of trees, and sending up into them, refreshing moisture. We were quite long by that time, and as more raindrops fell on the hollow, we were pushed on, until we came to a green, green meadow, with groups of trees here and there. We flowed through the ravine, in the meadow, and as I passed, I heard some cows murmuring, Water, and felt them enter my stream, to drink, and be refreshed, for the sun was hot that day. In another place, the ravine widened out, suddenly, and made a round hollow pool, where I knew, the boys would swim and play, later on. We passed through clumps of willows and other trees, where the birds would fly and nest, as time went on. And ever onward we fiowed, bringing moisture to all of nature, and leaving behind us, happy and joyful animals and plants. -Katherine I-Iall, Grade IX. I've tried my best to write a poem, But somehow my poor brain won't roam Cn subject sweet, As what you meet While strolling in the leafy wood. I'd love to tell you if I could

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V OX FL U MIN IS Page Twenty-four ,----U-.......--... ..... ..-..-..-.......................... --.. . ............. ...--.-.--..... .....................................-................-............... Would you send me to school? Peter asked from a distance. CCYeS.!! And then to an office P he called excitedly. ' Yes, I suppose so, Mrs. Darling replied in a motherly tone. Soon I should be a man ? Peter was filled with blazing wrath at the thought. G, very soon. Mrs. Darling would have given anything if the Highty creature before her would only stand still. Suddenly he darted away furiously. I don't want to go to school and learn solemn things. No one's ever going to catch me, lady, and make me a man. I want always to be a little boy and have fun 1 Oh! Wendy's little face was blinded with tears. He does so need a mother. Can't I go to him F No, darling, tenderly. But Peter, Mrs. Darling called, she may go to you once a year to do your spring-cleaning. , Wendy was in ecstasies at the thought. but Peter, who had no idea of what spring-cleaning was. waved an unconcerned thanks. ' Mrs. Darling took Wendy's hand. And now darling, say good- night, she said softly. Wendy was heart-broken at leaving him. Good-night, Peter, she called. striving not to let him see how hard it was to keep her tears away. Peter felt nothing of this. He could not understand why Wendy should be unhappy. He was not. He was always going to be a little boy and have fun. He took out his pipes happily and called a carefree Good- night. In that word little Wendy knew that Peter would not remember her for long. He would not even remember the Lost Boys who were going to stay and be her brothers. He would soon find something else to interest him and forget to come back for her. And with her arms outstretched she cried to the faint music of his pipes, O Peter, you won't forget me when spring-cleaning time comes P There was no answer. She heard only the last light note of Pan's Pipes as Peter flew back alone through the night to the Neverland. -Carla Lehmann, Grade XI. ,. AUTUMN Autumn is here at last, The gay leaves are falling fast, The apples are turning rosy red, And each wee flower has gone to bedg Wrapped in a blanket of snowy white, Autumn is bidding the world good-night. i -Morna Kenny, Grade VII.

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VOX F L U ll! I N I S Page Twenty-six Qf flowers so gay, And elves at play. I simply don't know anything Cf rousing songs that pirates sing, Cf Spanish gold, 01' stories told Of maiden's appeals for aid, And villains at the masquerade. I'm quite sure if I wrote about Our happy schooldays you would shout VVith laughter, and you'd tell me that This would be enough of that. But someday I shall write a book And when on the inside you look I know that person, you will say, VVhen but a high-school girl so gay. . She tried her best to write a poem But couldn't get her brain to roam On subjects sweet, As what you meet VVhile strolling through the leafy woods. -janet Turnbull, .-...l Grade X. COUNCIL FIRE Une fire that will live forever in my memory is the Council Fire at Glen Bernard. Now, Glen Bernard Camp is away in the far north country, in the land of lakes and forests, that really belongs to the red-skinned Indians. For scores of years the Indians have held their council Hres in places just like this-Glen Bernard. So now, the campers too, follow the same custom. Un the last night of each week, the beat of a tom tom calls the braves to council ring. They assemble, each wearing his blanketandhistribalcolors, and carrying his hatchet. Slowly, they file down the long path to the glen. Gn three sides it is surrounded by almost perpendicular walls of rock, and on the fourth-the moon-lit lake may be seen through the pines. All is dark, there is no light save the pale white glow of the moon. In the glen the high council is seated, with a natural rock altar in front of them. Then the old braves file in and take their accustomed places in a circle, in tribal order. When all are assembled, the great High Chief, Cgamoquay, enters alone and stands at the altar before the unlit fire. I-Ie salutes the council and the braves, bringing his greetings to them. Then he calls for the new braves. The tribal chiefs call them by name and they enter and take their places. g Then amid the solemn stillness of the great northland, the Big Chief lights the council fire. As the flames leap up, all faces turn towards the