Ruperts Land Girls School - Eagle Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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RUPERT'S LAND COLLEGE MAGAZINE 29 and the trees oldest and friendliest, there I would find a cottage-a home-where I would know that I would always live in contented happiness. And this cottage would not be too far away from, and yet not too near to some quiet pleasant country village with quiet, pleasant, country folk, and then again beyond the village would be a gay city, where sometimes, perhaps, I would go for a bit of merriment and gayer life, so as to be able to enjoy the quietness of my cottage when I returned, and not lose appreciation of its peaceful charms. And there would be a road past my gate, a white road winding across a green meadow, then losing itself in the woods beyond, like a weary traveller escaping from the heat of the dusty day to rest for a while by the cool of a woodland pool. Behind my cottage would be a wooded hill where cautious brown rabbits and soft wee brown birds would live and be the timid companions of twilight rambles, and where, in the springtime, the wild plum and hawthorn bushes would burst into a foam of white fragrance, a promise of the rich fruit and bright berries to come. And inside, my cottage would be as bright as the sun in the morning, and as cool as a breeze in the evening. There would be a small parlour, with soft chairs, sitting demurely with full chintz skirts, like old-fashioned ladies at afternoon tea, a neat kitchen with a brick fireplace whose ruddy glow would dance on rows of copper pans in winter time, and high cupboards with glass panes, showing cups on hooks, and shining plates on ledges. From a corner of this kitchen would be a flight of turning stairs descending to the bedroom above-a room, small like the others, but made gay with curtains tied back and bouquets of yellow flowers. And looking out of the windows of my house would be like looking at lovely pictures. The two low-windows in the front room would see the side garden and part of the bordered lawn in front. The kitchen casements would look on the vegetables and the woods, and the upstairs dormer windows would usher in the long gold finger of the dawn to wake me every morning. There would be window seats in the parlour, and ledges in the windows for plants in winter. A small fire place would keep me warm on autumn evenings, when I would sit in one of the cosy arm chairs which would rest on either side. The kitchen would have an alcove beside the fire place, with a white- scrubbed table top and white small chairs where my three meals a day would be eaten. My bed would have four white posts like sentinels in the night, and there would be two covered boxes in which to keep my gloves and hats. But, best of all, the garden! In front a velvet clover lawn with bright borders of nodding marigold and candytuft, and flagstone paths with tiny flowers and grasses

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28 RUPERT'S LAND COLLEGE MAGAZINE ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL St. Paul's is situated in the heart of London, at the head of Ludgate Hill. It is approached on the west by a wide strip of pavement on which stands a statue of Queen Anne. The immense building was built by Sir Christopher Wren. Leading up to it are flights of broad stone steps at the top of which are tall, beautiful pillars carved at the top. In the north tower there is a bell which tolls only at the death of certain great personages. It weighs about seventeen tons. In the south tower is the famous clock and in the centre the wonderful dome. Inside the cathedral there are many monuments of great people, and in the crypt the Painter's Corner, where the artists are buried. About three hundred and ten feet from the ground there is a gallery where, if one whispers, you can be .heard across the dome on the other side. The top is painted most beautifully by Sir James Thornhill. The cathedral is five hundred and thirteen feet in length and the breadth is two hundred and forty-eight feet. After walking up seven hundred and fifty-two steps, one reaches the balcony around the dome, where a marvellous View of London can be obtained. Books have been written about buildings, but this is only a brief account of one of the most beautiful in the world. BARBARA SELLERS -1- -1' -1- AN IDEAL COUNTRY COTTAGE If I were to have my choice of a dwelling, of a place in which to live, to love, and call my own, a place in which I could do as I pleased and be happy, in short, a home, it would not be one of the tall, brown city houses that I would choose, with their lifeless windows and unwelcoming doors, nor of the fashionable flats, with their air of formal conventionality, their over stuffed furniture, and their much advertised conveniences, nor yet of the comfortable suburban houses, standing in stiff, unalterable rows, looking for all the world like their owners, identically alike and equally smug and prosperously self-satisfied-the essence of dignified propriety, but I would go into the country, not as the tourist or Sunday holiday-maker goes, in a cloud of dust and a chaos of noise, shutting out both sight and sound of the beauty around them, but walking at my leisure, and then, where the grass seemed greenest, the flowers gayest,

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30 RUPERT'S LAND COLLEGE MAGAZINE peeping between the stones as if asking permission to grow there. At the sides there would be flowers of every scent and hue, bold dahlias and zinnias, shy violets and tender roses, sweet scented stocks and modest mignonette lending fragrance to the harmony of colour. At the back, a neatly tended vegetable garden, discreetly screened by green painted lattice overgrown with ivy, would serve the modest needs of the kitchen. And round it all fto keep the rabbits from eating too much of the lettuceb would be a white- painted wooden fence, with a little white gate in front, and perhaps, if nature were doubly, kind, a tiny silver stream to tinkle across a corner of my simple garden into the woods behind. So, here in this secluded haven would I be content to live my life in peace and happiness, and gradually, from year to year, build up a surer and more lasting tie between my little house and me-an affection which would satisfy and merge into complete happiness. A pet or two,'a faithful dog grown old in comfort and contentment, pleasant friends and neighbors, village children coming up for gifts of flowers-if I could but grow old in the midst of these, I would consider myself doubly repaid for life's trials and endeavors. It would be something indeed for which to work. RUTH HEADLAM' WI' 'I' 'X' A NEWS-BOY The September twilight had drawn in across the western sky, sending brilliant shafts of light into its dull and sullen depths. The leaves on the avenue, which the week before had been so vivid, were now crisp and brown, and overhead, the wind, herald of a cold wet night, sighed and moaned through the trees. Lights glittered through steam-smeared shop windows and cast bright patches into the ever-increasing gloom: and through it all, people rushed and hurried-pushing' and shoving, buying and selling, in order to get home. Paper! Paper! All about the football match! Paper, Sir? A small boy darted in and out of the throngs gathered for street-cars. He wasn't particularly noticeable except for his raggedness. He was about twelve years of age and he wore on his thin brown body a pair of grey trousers, frayed at the edges and patched with many different kinds of materials. Over this was a red, high-necked sweater, several sizes too large, and on his head, a small peaked cap slanted over one eye. His shoes were heavy, with thick soles, and his gloveless hands were thrust deep into his