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

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22 Vox Fluminis terrible shock to his Poor mother- such a loyal English woman and so proud of her son's achievements. Ah! oui, mad'moiselle, agreed he: companion, The other son, is he serv- ing his country also? Yes, Londiff is in the R. A. F. They joined up as soon as war broke out, you know. It is a pity, is it not, that this young Franzel had to die? Such an intelligent young man, mad'moiselle. I remember, Pierre, when I went to two concerts given by Franzel Burkett in Paris last spring. It was at the Con- servatory of Music. A charming per- sonage! I say again, his mother is such a fine English Woman and so proud to think that her dear sons were fighting for England. Ah, it is a shame, there will be more of this. Sandra Hopper and Richard Charles- ton waited at the London Station for their train which was leaving for the West coast that evening. I do hope we can get out of this mess before it's too late, Richard said as they walked up and down the plat- form in the cold night air. You hope! I've just got to be in New York on October fifteenth for the wedding. Why, Jane wouldn't know what to do without me! Sandra ex- claimed. Well, she may have to learn. Weill have to go through a lot of red tape to get out of the country. An inquisitive lot, the English, aren't they? Boy, paper please- Any news? asked Sandra to make conversation. Not much, replied Richard, Forty- five sailors drowned-poor devils. One of them was Franzel Burkett. Remem- ber him? He was in New York a couple of years ago. Quite a lad. Says here that his mother was pretty proud of him-why would they put that in? People could gather that if they had any brains. They knew you were going to read it, Dick. No, but seriously, I suppose his mother was all broken up about it but then whose mother wouldn't be? asked Richard. 'fIt's just showing the people what may happen to them. It's a gentle warning. That poor lady has probably lost her one joy in life. She loved him and his music, you know. Maybe-say, did you bring the camera? Good! Our train won't be here for another five minutes. Let's go and grab a cup of coffee and get warm. This wind is cold. On the same evening in a small, cozy livingroom beside a fire there sat an old lady. There was silence except for the creak of her rocking chair and the click of her knitting needles as she worked. On the mantel, there were two pictures, one of a young boy in an Airforce uniform and another of a boy in the Navy. The old lady's gaze fell there and she paused in her work to let her mind rest upon the two. Her face wrinkled into a sweet and aged smile, and then she turned her head to gaze fondly upon the piano which brought stirring memories to mind, memories of a boy who had played for her during the evenings as she sat by the fire, knitting. She sighed-it seemed to be a sigh of relief-and put down her knitting. She brought out a letter, opened it, and read, and as she read she mur- mured the words- It is best that he go now. It is best that he go like this. God forgive him. Then she leaned forward and set a corner of the paper in the flames. With a smile on her aged face she watched the words burn one by one. Franzel Burkett, agent of the Ger- man Secret Society. Betty Dowler, Grade XI, Douglas Hallj .1. Barbara Hunt: My father thought I was expelled last night. Lorraine Ingram: How's that? Barbara Hunt: I took some books home.

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Vox Fluminis 21 No one ever knew you did it because I was going to marry the girl you loved. No one ever knew the real rea- son why I was dishonourably dis- charged. But you'll never forget, you'll never forget. You ruined my life, and now your own is being ruined . . . is being ruined. With a low moan John Langdon fell to the floor. Meanwhile, the doctor was sitting at the window of his room, looking out upon a never- ending sea of misery and pain. The knowledge that people were suffering untold agonies all over the world, and the realization of his own helplessness, filled him with utter misery, and it was only when he fell into a drunken stupor that peace came to his weary mind. Next morning the London papers included this announcement on their front pages: ULANGDON MYSTERY Yesterday evening, the coastguard of a small fishing village in Scotland sighted a yacht drifting aimlessly to- wards the shore. As the ship was in danger of foundering on the rocks, a boat was launched to investigate. The landing party, however, found no trace of any members of the crew on board, only four dead bodies. When the yacht was safely docked, the bodies were identified as the Hon. Peter Langdon, a well-known business man, Captain John Langdon, of the Indian Army, his song Doctor Chris- topher Langdon, his nephewg and Mar- garet Langdon, his niece. A post- mortem is being held, but so far no reason is given for their deaths or for the disappearance of the crew. The late members of the Langdon family were found lying in their bunks, and the look of anguish, pain and in- describable torment depicted on their faces is the only clue to the manner of their deaths. Truly, they must have been through hell. Dulcie J. E. Ellershaw, Grade XII, Garry Hall. DELUDED BY DEATH Forty-five Lost at Sea . . . Among those drowned was the famous English pianist, Franzel Burk- ett who joined the Navy at the out- break of war. Franzel's brilliant work as a pianist won him fame throughout the British Eimpire. His concerts al- ways attracted large crowds of music lovers. He is survived by his mother, Freda Burkett, and his brother Londiff. Londiff is serving in the R. A. F. Mrs. Burkett was very fond of music and F ranzel spent many evenings playing for her as she sat by the fireplace knitting. Franzel was 293' Music, a lamentation of deepest sor- row, echoed in the massive stillness of the drawing room in the home of Com- mander Stitson. A young girl of twenty- five years sat at the piano in the corner of the large room. Her pale, tearful face was turned towards the large French windows which composed one wall. Her dark and doleful eyes stared out into the windy night. Only the moon's rays and a dim lamp lit up the room. The girl's fingers slid over the keys in a slow, audible expression of grief. Softly the music penetrated her heartg her face lifted to the sky as sorrow wrung her heart and her lips offered a silent prayer. The music continued. The murmur and groan of the wind in the trees, the creaking of a gate and the slight rattling of the window panes accom- panied her music. It grew more ex- pressive of her feeling, her tears were a part of it, her pitiable condition influ- enced the melancholy strain. A discord! Her beautiful head fell over the keys as sobs wracked her body. A folded newspaper on the bench be- side her was the explanation of her grief. Mad'moiselle Duprey and a com- panion sat at dinner together on the same evening. It's a shame, isn't it? remarked Mad'moiselle Duprey, who had recently arrived in England. Such a fine young artist he was too! I'm sure it was a

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Vox Fluminis 23 SCHOOL DAYS THE wind was howling around the corners of the house and the rain was beating its staccato rhythm against the window panes. What a dull day! Nothing to do except sit at home and read a book and do some knitting. Listlessly wandering from one gray room to another, I finally settled down in the library. A cozy fire was burning in the fireplace, and the room looked an ideal spot for day-dreaming. Suddenly a red book attracted my attention. It had been pushed behind the shelf and appeared very dilapi- dated and dog-eared. Retrieving the book, I sat down again and opened it. Riverbend! Yes it was actually a school magazine. Glancing through it brought back memories of rubber boots, the smell of home-made buns, the annoying persistence of alarm- clocks, and all those little pranks which were thought to be so clever at the time. The book dropped to the ground. The first day at school. My parents fairly shoved me in the door, and there I was stranded. I didn't know one girl in the school and I didn't know even the words of the National Anthem. I felt mortified and disgraced for thc rest of the day. After the first month or two at school, I began to develop the habit of day- dreaming. What an art! I had to listen to the teacher, of course, but just enough to know what she was talking about, and all the beautiful dreams I indulged in! All this was stopped, how- ever, when my parents received my report. The rest of the junior grades were spent in awe of the big girls. How clever and pretty they were! One of these older girls happened to kiss me one day, and I stoutly refused to wash my face for a week. You can imagine what my face looked like at the end of the week. Then suddenly I had to leave River- bend and I went away to Montreal, the beautiful city on a mountain, over- looking the St. Lawrence River and the distant hills in the state of New York. Marbles, marbles and more mar- bles. That is the main impression of my school days there. My friends would dig a hole with the heels of their shoes, and then the marbles would plop on the gravel. No, I won. See my marble is closer than yours. Here give it to me. You old meany. I'm not going to play with you any more. Conversations like these were fre- quent and often resulted in sulky moods. Marbles and nature-study. Yes, I think nature-study was almost as im- portant as marbles, but not quite. We took this class in the Chemistry Lab- oratory, that mysterious room of smells and rows of bottles on the shelves. Pollywogs and turtles were our favorite studies--my father always did have a hard time drawing those pollywogs for me. In Grade VIII I came back to Riverbend. The grounds never looked so beautiful, out-of-bounds never so tempting. Yes, I was a boarder. Mid- night feasts were strictly forbidden. However tell-tale crumbs, bottles and lack of appetites were evidence that sometimes this rule was not strictly adhered to. Boarding was a lot of fun! I can remember so plainly the apple- pied beds, the quarrels over the first bath, the joy obtained from a box of candy, the letters from home. My let- ters from home always asked the same question, How much do you weigh? The sudden increase in my weight certainly worried my parents for a time. Latin and Geometry! I never could understand those two subjects. Ge- ometry propositions were memorized backwards and forwards to no avail. I finally decided that maybe I was not a mathematics student. My parents had decided this a long time before. Of course Caesar was just out of date, so why bother about him? The day finally came-Graduation. All I can remember, through a haze of white dresses, is the peculiar feeling I experienced while walking up the aisle of the church. The delicate odour of roses, the booming notes of the band,