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

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Vox Fluminis 17 SHOULD YOU? Should you eat a radish in your hand or with a fork? Should you send out little cards an- nouncing Mr. Stork? Is it proper to confront a departing guest with, Please, Mrs. Brown, meet Mrs. Smith? Does it make them feel at ease? Should you wear a flowing train upon your bridal gown? Should you send a kind hello when a stranger comes to town? Is it in the best of form to serve cocktails before dinner, To tell a woman, O my dear, that dress makes you look thinner? Should you pass the album when your friends have come to call? Should you have the girls in for a game of bridge-that's all? Are you sure by all the rules your table top is set? Do you know the answers? Well, you should. -It's Etiquette. Betty Dowler, Grade XI, Douglas Hall. MY KIDDY CAR I have a little kiddy car It is painted red and black One day I ran into a pail of tar And I thought my heart would crack. I cried myself to sleep that night And hugged my teddy bears But soon I saw a tiny light A-coming up the stairs. It was the fairies bright and gay They asked me why I was sad. I hurt my kiddy car today. Said they, T'hat's certainly too bad. And then I asked them if by chance They could wash it with the dew, So they washed and washed as around they danced Until it looked like new. Moyra Smith, Grade III, Nelson Hall. JUDY Sliding down the bannisters, knocking o'er the chairs, Licking out the jam pots, stealing all the pears, Who's the little rascal in the flower bed Tearing up the blossoms with the puppy, Ned? Now he's in the kitchen begging for a tart, Now she's at the playhouse in the dolly's cart, Now she's in the basement riding on her byke, Cleaning out the coal chute, the busy little type! Naughty little ragamuffin, at the close of day Thinking of the fun she's had while putting toys away. Who's the little angel kneeling at her prayers? She's my little sister, quite absolved of cares. Betty Jean Adamson, Grade XI, Douglas Hall. -1- OH! Oh for the sight of the tiny, The fields of rye and corn, Oh for the sight of the sloping hills And the place where I was born. Oh to be back there home once more By the side of the rambling stream, To lie on its muddy banks and watch It glitter in sunlight's gleam. ' Oh for the sight of the blooms in spring And the feel of the dewy grass, Oh for the smell of the primrose flower And a sight of the old footpaths. Oh to be back there, home once more, Back to the fields of corn, Back to the land where I belong, To the place where I was born. P. Auld, Grade IX, Garry Hall.

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16 Vox Fluminis THESE ENGLISH . . . . . And the Prince Kharama of Kashmir said unto his chief minister, Samaar: Go to this land as an envoy of our people. Listen and learn of these English that we may know more of these strangers who come to our land to trade, and hope to conquer. And Samaar boarded a ship and came unto the strange land, saw and learned of the English, and wrote thus: July 4, 1723.-These English are a strange people, their land is a strange land, and their ways are strange ways. When I arrived at Dover, I was thoroughly inspected and searched in a most complicated and unnecessary manner. When this process was fin- ished, I continued on my way to Lon- don, their capital city, by a most in- convenient mode of travel - stage- coach. When I arrived I enrolled at a species of hotel called an 'innf This inn, like the many others found on this street called 'High,' is a small place. The inn-keeper is a typical Englishman. To give a picture of his class I describe him: He is an enormously fat man with a fiat head and an extremely ruddy corn- plexion. He spends a great deal of his time at the bar of his inn consuming large quantities of an alcoholic drink, very strong, which does not seem to affect him in the least. The rest of his time is spent chatting with his cus- tomers. Often, the name of Sir Robert Wal- pole, the Prime Minister, is mentioned. I have seen this man and I know that the country treats him unjustly. He is a good, useful gentleman but because of numerous riotings, and unhappy gos- siping, the people have not a clear picture of the man. The rumors are instigated by a party called Jacobites who wish to restore the Stuart line of kings to the throne. The present king is entirely Ger- man-he speaks no English, and he has brought a swarm of German women and German attendants to the English court. A tarnish has crept over the land with his coming. The common people seem to be either beggars or highwaymen. One cannot travel safely in this land be- cause of the latter's constant robbing and murdering. The members of the nobility, how- ever, are absolutely different. Having taken their cue from their fat king, they show no outward enthusiasm for anything. They all attend operas and plays and read the new books by mod- ern writers, foremost among these be- ing Oliver Goldsmith, Jane Austen, Daniel Defoe, and Jonathan Swift. A strange man called John Wesley is travelling throughout the country in an endeavour to reform religion-which is already foolish and fantastic. These English are a strange and marvellous people. They are imperious yet sympathetic, uninteresting yet bril- liant. We are against a strong foe.- Please Budda, we shall be at peace! Pat Bernard, Grade X, Douglas Hall. , SPRINGTIME There is a valley that I know Where the wild sweet breezes blow, And the daffodils nod.to and fro In Springtime. X And the wee purple violets are always peeping, And the pussy willows are always weeping, I And there the first primrose is seen a'sleeping In Springtime. And the fluffy-white, new-born lambs: there play, And the sun shines through the trees all day, And the cherry-blossoms softly sway In Springtime. Yes! There's a valley that I know Where it will never, never snow, And there you and I will some day go, For there it's always Springtime. P. Hodgson, Grade XI, York Hall.

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18 viqx Fzumims g A FAIRY STORY I IN Fairyland there was a giant. Never before had one been there, and Hol- low Tree Village was in a great stir. Twins, Fluffy and Muffy, lived in this village. Fluffy was a boy, and Muffy a girl. One day when they were out walking in the forest a man appeared. He was the biggest man they had ever seen. Fluff pulled at Muff's rose-petal dress. Quick! he whispered. He'is going toward our village. I must warn our Fairy Queen and you must warn the Queen of S-mall-Feet Village. Tell her to come to our aid quickly. Good-bye! Fluff ran and ran until he reached Joy, his Queen. Joy called her army together quickly. Dig a deep pit, she said, so the giant will fall into it. Dig it right in his path and cover it with a carpet of grass and pine needles. It must be ready in ten minutes. Now be off. Meanwhile Muffy had reached Small- Feet Village and ordered the men to be quick. They started up and arrived just as the elves of the other village were beginning to pit. It was surprising how fast they dug. It was ready in eight minutes. As soon as they had put across the grass and pine needles, along came the giant. C-R-A-S-H! He fell into the pit. How surprised and angry he looked. All the fairies came from their hiding places and crowded around the pit. Last came Joy in her daffodil-petal dress. She said: You have your choice. Either you will be our slave or we shall kill you. The giant growled in reply: I will be your slave. The Queen held a party for Fluffy and Muffy. It was held in the moon- light. Fluff was given a badge saying, For Bravery, and Muff was given a hair-bow. They were very tired little fairies when at last they crept into bed. Elizabeth Moody, Grade V, Garry Hall. ' THE SEASONS The months of sp-ring are April, May, With squawking crow and screeching lay, And sweet woods ringing With robins singing Of lovely spring that's here. The months of summer are June, July, With bright blue skies and falcons' cry. Yellow beaches, pleasant swimming, Laughing loon, and swallow skimming O'er the prairies bright and green. Autumn months-August, Septe-mber, The glowing sun like burning ember, Passing o'er ripe fields of grain, Longing for a pleasant rain To cool their roots, their heads, their stalks. The months of winter, four-remember: January, February, November, December. All the birds far south they fly As if some mysterious agents try To send them 'way from coming cold. Barbara McLean, Grade V, York Hall. . -.1-1..,,i....T. EXTINCTION He crumpled on the battlefield and sank into the mud, And down his twisted, pain-racked face there trickled clotted blood, And yet he had the strength to fire just one last shot of lead,- The yellow-bellied Jap shrieked, gasped, and fell across him-dead. Joan Harris, Grade XI, York Hall. I'D RATHER HAVE YOU Laughing puppy with bringht brown eyes And a soft brown head to pat, I'd rather have you Than a kangaroo Or parrot or great white rat. I'd rather have you Than any of these, Or a ring-tailed possum That hangs on trees. Clementine McNern, Grade III, York Hall.