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

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20 Vox Fluminis THE PIPERS' CALL From over the wooded highland hills Into the sunlit glen, The notes brought thrilled and quicken- ing beats To the hearts of the listening men. So tall and straight in the swinging kilt, He soothed her quick alarms, Young and eager to answer the call, The pipers' call to arms. And with the thought of other battles Well fought, but dearly won, She watched him climb the mountain path, The last, and best-loved son. In the purple haze of a heather field, Against the evening sky, The distant figure looked back once more, Then went to win or die. A wooden cross on a lonely hill In the bleak, grey down, And a woman, with tearless, anguished eyes, And none to lean upon. Marilyn Smith, Grade X, Garry Hall. i..11.T....i-..l. NIGHTMARES I WIGGLED and squirmed in my bed until everything stuck to me, and my flannel nighty felt like a layer of seal- skin around me. Why wasn't I born a Betty Grable or a Joan Bennet? I'd simply love to have green eyes and black hair instead of the most common in America. Even if I did brush it a hundred times each night it would still look the same. Straight as a poker and brown. I wriggled some more but only felt worse. I must ask mother again if I can dye my hair black. I am sure it would look so much better. Mothers are so difficult these days. I expect I must have worried myself to sleep for the next thing I remember was entering a large beautiful green plastic building which made me feel like Alice in Wonderland. Over the doorway was written Through these doors lies beauty for all. At the door were two footmen dressed from head to toe in lollipop-red suits. They opened the door and I pranced in, in my dirty gingham pinafore, feeling like a queen. The first room I entered was filled with bottles of perfume with most exquisite scents. Small bottles, large bottles, green bottles, pink bottles, all in different shapes. I picked one up in the shape of a flower. It was called Happiness, and underneath it said, Price-Contentment. How silly, I thought, I guess I can pay for that. At the end of the room was a door labeled Lip Charmsf' so I hurried on to it. Tubes and tubes of bright lipsticks in beautiful cases, red ones, orchid ones, every kind. I pulled out a mirror from my pinafore pocket and commenced to delicately dab some Stop Red on. I walked to the end of the room where there was a door labeled For brown hair. Hurry, I said to myself, and boldly stepped in. I found myself in a room filled with dainty pink basins all filled with dyes of different colors for drab brown hair. I quickly chose a blue black. My hair emerged for the most part black and, even thought it was straight, I imagined myself quite attractive. The next room was for the nails and face. I applied some dark red polish to my nails and flourished some eye- shadow on. I fancied the marshmellowy creams a little old. The door at the end of this room led me into one for powder. I delicately powdered my nose with a grand feather puff but found all the powder hard on the lungs, and moved on to a door labeled You. This was going to be fun. Excitedly I opened the door into a mirrored room. Oh! my goodness, is that me, my hair, my lips? Mercy, it couldn't be. There was eye shadow all over me and I looked as if I had two black eyes. There was lipstick on my teeth and nose. My hair was dripping with blue black dye and my eyes looked browner

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Vox Fluminis 19 blossoms fade, and fall, but in their place, there grows an even greater flower, more delicately moulded, and more perfect, with a more exquisite scent, to give into the cool summer air. And so in Martin's place will grow another flower next year, and so the world goes on and on and the garden change-s, yielding new fruits in spring to take the place of autumns fallen blossoms. Peggy Auld, Grade XI, Garry Hall. .1u LIZA JANE Now Liza Jane am a leetle girl, She leeve by de reever bank, An' dan fo' hour she watch seem swirl, Weeth her dog whose name am Hank. Her mama tell her she gonna fall In de reever one dese day, But Liza Jane she naver care, An' dese ees wha' she say: Mama I weel be a'right, I ain't a chil' no mo'. Y An' after dat she ron away Down to de reever shore. An sure enough she start to fall An' lan' right on de breenk, Oh, den she start to wail an' call, De breenk begun to sink. But Hank he drag her to de shore, Her beatin' she had earned, She promised to go dere no mo', Her lesson she had learned. June Baker, Grade VII, Nelson Hall. .,..,. , A COMPARISON THE MORNING was calm and beauti- ful. Joy was everywhere from the new green plants to the caroling sky- lark. The sun rose higher in the clear blue, and the glistening dew-drops dried, watering the flesh green buds. Although everything was joyous this morning, clouds had gathered in the west. They lashed each other, deepen- ing in color until they became ominous shades of black, green, and yellow. They blotted out the sun, and so the world became dark. It waited for an instant, and then a terrifying rod of blue lightning ripped the clouds asunder, joined quickly with a bullet- like clap of thunder. The rain came down in blinding sheets, blurring out all view of the drenched earth. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the storm slid grumblingly off to the east, with only an occasional rumble of thunder. The sun pushed its way out, just as if nothing had happened, and a beautiful rainbow arched its delicate way across the receding clouds. Life is like this. Childhood is joyous, it prepares us for the oncoming test. or the storm. When the storm is past, we are left clean and unafraid. No matter how black the surging clouds may have looked, no matter how diliicult our trials may have seemed, we have sur- mounted them all. And now at the end we look peacefully back on the soft grey behind us, made beautiful and glowing with the rainbow of success. Barbara McLean, Grade VII, York Hall. l1. . HOAR FROST HOAR FROST is Mother Nature's lace. She uses it to trim the trees in wintertime. It is white and crisp and looks like myriads of little white ruffled ballet skirts. When the sun shines on it, it glistens like tiny diamonds do. It seems to be holding its breath for fear some small puff of wind would knock it off its twig and cause it to lose its small part in life's great ballet. If, on a sunny day, one looks up through frosted trees into the bluest of skies, one can see a faint tipping of rose and gold on the edge of each hoary flake. Each separate flake looks like a pair of angel's wings, folded as though the angels were in prayer. Perhaps each is thanking the Maker for fashioning all such small things so perfectly. Ellen Kinneard, Grade X, York Hall.

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Vox Fluminis 21 than ever. There I stood looking like an artificial girl. Then, all of a sudden things began to rock, the mirrors cracked and the floor fell through and I seemed to drop for miles and miles sending my heart spinning. Then bang! It was all over. I was awake on the floor, clinging to my nice brown locks for dear life. Mary MacKay, Grade IX, Garry Hall. 1 T0 SPRING Oh! Spring, thou herald of the new born earth, Come once again and give our world new birth. And with thy silver flute triumphant call All nations be at rest. Peace be to all.', Let thy new seeds from hill and valley spring, Let bush and flower forget the nettles sting, Wipe from the earth the scars of wars scarce done, But that the years unveil a fiercer one Oh! Spring, stretch forth thy gentle hand, And calm the tumult of our restless land. Peggy Auld, Grade XI, Garry Hall. NATURE EVERYTHING was still. The lake was as smooth as a mirror, and the motionless emerald trees stood in relief against the bright blue arch overhead. The sun was still lo-w in the east, but this beautiful morn was warm. The stillness was overpowering, as you stood and tried to hear the sound that was not there. Not even the birds were carolling their morning sonatina. Apparently they, too, were impressed at the motionless day that was being born. A harsh noise suddenly shattered the stillness. It was the sound of the motor of a swiftly flying boat, skimming light- ly over the mirror-like water. The boat was quite far away, but this seemingly winged vessel soon passed the beautiful bit of shore I was standing on, disturb- ing the water into large ripples which soon died away, as they lapped gently against the golden sands. In the boat were some unfortunate mortals going away from this beauty back to the noise and grime of the city. Mary Mathers, Grade VIII, Douglas Hall. -L11-l-T1--.1-Q THE CITY OF BENARES T'was crowded out with children, And such happiness was their's, For they were on a voyage On the City of Benares. They were fleeing from the danger Of bombshelled London town, None of those kiddies ever guessed Their ship was going down. How were they to know, poor things, That they would die that day, By a cruel and mighty German stroke Of hate and unfair play. The ship was struggling through the storm When the submarine was sighted, The warnings echoed from the bridge And the distress flares were lighted. No panic swept along those decks So packed with little ones, They had their lifebelts safely on And stood and watched the Huns. A mighty crash soon rent the air So survivors stated, Another English vessel caught And precious cargo fated. How many lives were ruined When that torpedo was released? Hundreds of children's names appeared In the column marked Deceased The crew all made a valiant try To get the lifeboats down, To help those little children In their efforts not to drown. But no one came to help them, The sea was in a rage, And so this German slaughter Was the tragedy of our age. Jill Riddell, Grade XI, Garry I-Iall.