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

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24 Vox Fluminis YOU IN YOUR SMALL CORNER -BUT WHAT BECOMES OF ME? PRING had begun, and so had spring cleaning. Accordingly Mrs. Wig- gins, our energetic housekeeper, had the house topsy-turvey. The Windsor chair from the best parlor stood stifliy on top of the kitchen table, which, for con- venience had been placed in the din- ing-roomg the piano reposed placidly in the front hall, forming an effective stop- sign to front door visitors, but, in spite of the state of the rest of the house, I received the shock of my life when I stepped into my bedroom. To begin with, I tripped over an enormous pot of varnish, which, un- noticed by me, had been sitting in the middle of the floor, and fell fiat on my face. Before I could get up I was com- pletely surrounded by a sticky sea of varnish, and completely stuck. After writhing and twisting for about fifteen minutes, I gave it up as a bad job, and, though my position was not in the least comfortable, lay still and commenced to look around my room. My easy chair, footstool, desk lamp, encyclopaedia, statuette of Beethoven, about a dozen pictures, and the carpet, were piled in a glorious conglomera- tion on the bed. The waste-paper bas- ket was sitting rather tipsily on my folding desk, and on top of that were heaped, in an exceedingly precarious arrangement, my twenty-six volumes of Scientific Research and Psycho-An- alysisf' My floor lamp stood dismally in one corner, its gilded base swathed in dustcloths of every color in the rain- bow. A heap of curtains, towels, house- dresses, and empty ink bottles decorat- ed the top of my bookcase, while my precious buhl music cabinet, the joy of my life, was standing squarely in front of the steam radiator, and the steam on full blast! Fuming, I recited to myself the things I was going to say to Mrs. Wiggins, when suddenly that worthy lady walked in and with the help of a huge and potent rolling pin, ordered me to get offa my lazy stummik and outa her way. Varnish and all, and with a degree of speed never before equalled in my life, I complied meekly with her re- quest. RossME STERLING, Grade X, Nelson Hall. MY LIFE BY A CATERPILLAR NE day when I was nearly full- grown, I thought how much I would like to be a butterfly. So I climbed up a hedge near by and began to spin a cocoon. After a little while I got tired working my feet up and down and in and out, so I stopped and took a rest. I stayed in my cocoon for the whole winter and then came out in the middle of June. When I didcome out my wings were all wet, but I gradually exercised and there I was just like any other butterfly. GAIL GRAHAM, Grade V, Garry Hall. li-1l-in-Q-i AN ICY DEATH HE plane came down easily, even in the storm and without an engine. Dick always had been a good navigator. How stupid he had been to overlook refilling with gas! How stupid he had been to start across the Atlantic by himself! After all, he was no Corrigan. He tampered with the radio, but it was dead. He was away off his planned course and no ships came that way. He was doomed, nothing could save him. He crawled out onto the wing. The waves lashed against the sides of the pontoons and splashed in his face. The wind howled and seemed to mock him in his distress. In his estimation the plane, in its present condition, would stay afloat for about an hour, then it would rapidly begin to sink. Yes, sink, and he with it. No one could rescue him in that time or in that storm. Besides, no one had known he had started on this wild trip. Fame! Fame! Why had he been so eager for fame? The lightning streaked the sky with jagged outlines and thunder boomed weird calls. D'ick was not

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Vox Fluminis 23 nous l'avons portee a la maison. Nous avons mis la pendule dans la salle a manger et nous avons com- mence a manger. Mais la pendule a casse-brrrrr! Ma mere a saute. Mon pere a saute. Et moi, j'ai saute. Et maintenant la pendule est dans la corbeille de refus. JOAN HARRIS, Grade VIII, York Hall. -1 OUR CHRISTMAS TREE HE first thing that struck your eye as you entered the living-room was the Christmas Tree. It was tall and majestic looking and reached the ceil- ing. Lights, glass balls, and cones full of candy decorated it from top to bot- tom. The lights, with their bright colors, twinkled and shone in pretty shapes: such as candles, bells, birds, children, globes and peacocks. Transparent and beautifully colored glass balls, pretty ornaments, and silver bells that tink- led, swayed gently on the tree. Under- neath the tree were gaily wrapped gifts, of all sizes and shapes. The blue and silver star on the top was the most beautiful of all, though. A light in the centre of the star shone brightly, re- flecting on the ceiling, making weird shadows. The star seemed to beckon to you, and you felt as though you were one of the shepherds, following the star to the stable where the Baby lay. JoYcE Mo-RR1soN, Grade VII, York Hall. RED RIVER TRAGEDY Now gather 'round, my children, And I'll tell a tale of woe, Of a lass from Old Fort Garry And a lad who loved her so. She had eyes as blue as twilight, And a sweet and rosy mouth, And silver rippling laughter Like the tempests of the South. Now, her name was Nancy Avon, And her lover-William Leth, And to be with his dear sweetheart He'd suffer even death. But another trader loved her, And he'd heard young William say: I will meet you by Red River At the dawning of the day. So the trader, smiling cruelly, Fixed the muzzle of a gun, Near the quiet little thicket Where the muddy waters run. And he chuckled as he thought Of the moment which would come When young Leth stepped on the spot Near the trigger of the gun! When the trader reached his cabin, The morning soon drew nigh, As the silver streaks of dawning Shone across the o'ercast sky. Then he waited and he listened 'Till he heard a ringing shot, And he ran down to the river And came to the fatal spot. But what horror then surged o'er him As he searched there in the grass, For the blood-soaked, prostrate body Was the body of a lass! Drenched in blood, young Nancy whis- pered As she lay in agony: I'm so glad it wasn't William, I came early here, you see. For the trader did not know That young William had been late, And that Nancy, growing anxious, Had gone to the place to wait. And they never knew who'd killed her, Killed young Nancy, sweet and good, But the muddy sluggish river Flowed again with human blood. For the trader couldn't stand it- And his body soon was found By the banks near Old Fort Garry The wicked man was drowned. MARIE BoND, Grade VIII, Garry Hall.

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Vox Fluminis 25 afraid. Death must come some time. As the time passed, Dick could feel the water seeping up into the cabin. Soon, practically without warning, only the tail was left above water. Dick clung to it like a mad man. Nothing could save him now, but Dick did not lose hope. The storm was still raging as the last piece of tail sank down into the watery depths below. Dick muttered a prayer as he felt himself sinking. The dark water closed over his head and he was gone! MoNA SHIRLEY PAGET, Grade IX, Garry Hall. -ill-l-ii POEM OF A BOARDERFS LAMENT BY A BOARDER Eve never had to sit and darn A pair of socks for Adam. She couldn't knit-there was no yarn Or needles-no one had 'em. Oft times with sadness I survey My mending-pile so shocking, And envy that first lucky dame Who never darned a stocking. MARY ELIZABETH EDGAR, Grade X, Garry Hall. TO A DICTATOR Fierce and proud with face unerring, Like a sergeant on parade, 'Do you realize what a terror To this earth your forces make? I can see untold repentance Like a sail unfurling dust, Yon can't stand supreme forever. Why do you suppose you must? Braver men than you before this Reached their doom by deeds like yours. Do you think that your sword mighty Can outdo those men of old? To my humble way of thinking All men meet their Waterloo, Why not leave the world alone now And give us peace, our token due? If for just a little while now, We could feel a peace sublime, What a solace for the weary Struggling for a peace divine. MARY CARPENTER, Grade X, Garry Hall. x THE STORY OF ATLAS' FAMILY HE Romans had many Goddeses as well as Gods. The months and days are named in their honor. They won- dered what name they should give the fifth month. They always had a festi- val for Maia, a goddess, on the first of the fifth month, so with changing her name a little, they called the fifth month, May. Atlas was the father of Maia as well as six other daughters. It was said that he held the world on his shoulders, so he must have been very busy looking after his children and the world. This belief gave us the name atlas to our books of maps. Maia had a lovely son called Mer- cury. He was the fastest runner of the Gods, and because he had wings on his feet, and carried a wand which made angry people stop quarrelling, they made him their messenger. He was sent with messages to the people on the earth, from Mount Olympus, the home of the Gods. Jupiter was the Father of the Gods and Goddesses, and he wanted Maia and her sisters to live forever, so he put them in the sky as stars, in a little group called the Pleiades. Goddesses weren't supposed to marry, but one of Maia's sisters fell in love with an earth-man called Sisyphus. Even though she did marry him, she was not happy, because he was a bad man. Jupiter decided to punish him, and made him roll a rock to the top of Mount Olympus. He thought it was a big rock, but said he was so strong that he could soon do it. He tugged and pulled and finally he got it to the top of the Mount, and as he was praising his work the rock rolled to the bottom of the moun- tain again. He is still trying to get the rock to the top of the mountain. His wife feeling sorry for him, hid her face, and that is why, if you look up into the sky you will see only six stars instead of seven, in the Pleiades. ROBIN LITTLE, Grade VI, York House.