Saltus Grammar School - Yearbook (Hamilton, Bermuda)

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10 vantage of being able to retire to a vacant room beyond the range of the din should it become intolerable. But what of a large form like Form V, whose members are not quite so industrious as their brethren in the Upper Sixth and which is confined to one form-room? Various complications inevitably set in. There are three types of students. First, there are those to whom tiie noise outside is a perpetual nuisance; then there are those who see the humorous side of the Master versus Building Operations contest, and finally there are the students who would rather study architecture than the Latin, which they are supposedly studying, and who gaze spell- bound at the amazing scene outside. The valiant Latin master strug- gles on, but, with Latin streaming in one ear of a distracted form and the atrocious wailing of buzz saws, the clanging of hammers and the chug-chug of concrete mixers pouring in the other, he is fighting a losing battle. Thus it is no wonder that nerves are ragged, that eyes furtively dart to and from the clock hanging on the wall, and that long pent-up sighs of relief stream forth unchecked when the bell rings to end the period. But what of the culprits outside? Let us investigate! Three industrious workmen are deep in a game of poker. The foreman, just finishing off a bottle of Pepsi-Cola, has a slig:htly guilty conscience and is about to break up the game when he suddenly feels the hot sun on his bare skin, and decides that he had better try to win back the shirt which he had lost the previous day. One exhausted gen- tleman, worn out with watching a football game on the field, takes out his newspaper, but, lacking the energy to give it support, covers his face with it and lapses into merciful oblivion. Suddenly there is a sickening thud as a limestone block disintegrates after a forty foot drop. The gentleman responsible for this looks down with every sign of am.azement, but remembers vaguely that the force of gravity is usually greater than the resistance of the air. Meanwhile, the foreman, having won back his shirt, tries to explain to a broken-hearted apprentice that the wall, which he had built and v hich has just collapsed, might possibly stay upright if he put the blocks directly on top of one another and cemented them together. The apprentice gapes in open admiration and, hailing his foreman as a sec- ond Einstein, tackles the job with savage enthusiasm. There is another complication down at the end of the wall, where two comrades have been so intent on their job that they have cemented a third into the wall. With characteristic eflficiency, they rescue him from his plight, tearing down half the wall to accomplish this prodigi- ous task. During the excitement, however, the wheelbarrow containing the cement has been overturned, cementing the wheelbarrow onto the

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9 Cadets strength: 48. N.C.Os.: Sg:t. Cassidy; Cpls. Burns, Hanlon, Kempe, L Cpls. Leach, Dunch, Williams. Since the Local Forces Board has been in charg-e of the Corps we have had an increase in the number of instructors — who gave of their free time — and this has led to an increased efficiency in our weapon- training. We are now able to look forward to our Annual Camp with the assurance that we shall successfully acquit ourselves on the Firing Point. In ceremonial parades we have been represented at the Remem- brance Day Parade, the Queen ' s Birthday Parade, and, in the near future, we shall be present at the Coronation Day Celebrations. Finally, we wish to congratulate Major H. Evans, a Saltus Old Boy, on his appointment as Commandant of the Bermuda Cadet Corps and to thank Sgt. E. Doughty for his valuable assistance during the past year. LONG LIVE THE QUEEN . . . F. L. S. The Stamp Club There has been some falling off in enthusiasm during this year, but there are still some faithful members who appear regularly at the weekly meetings. We are hoping gradually to introduce a system of exchange with people at home and in other colonies. A start has been made with Repton Junior School in connection with Coronation First Day Covers. E. W. Building Operations The Upper Sixth is deep in an absorbing period of English History, which, as any teacher, instructor or professor will confirm, is a subject ill which interruptions are disastrous. But the Upper Sixth is an in- dustrious form, eager to learn, cherishing the proverb: — Give instruc- tion to a wise man, and he will become yet wiser. Most remarkable of all, it has an unquenchable passion for History and so the bedlam outside causes little disturbance. It has, however, the priceless ad-

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I ' l verandah. The solution finally agreed upon is to chop away the wheel- barrow, but, before this plan can be put into action, the twelve o ' clock siren blows and immediately all hands cease work. The moral effect on the school is incredible. Work continues un- interrupted. Now the master has to deal only with internal competi- tion, and the Upper Sixth can at last return to their beloved History. W. HANLON. The Cruel Sea It was a dazzling summer ' s day and, after having spent an idle morning swimming and diving in the cool of the sea, I came to rest on a small, hot, ibarren island. As I sat, the reflections of the sun on the water danced over my dripping feet and over the sharp, brittle rocks which plunged into deep green water a few feet below me. The dark forms of lazy fish were blurred only occasionally by a minor ripple on the water. Somehow, today was not the same. The spell of summer seemed at last to have been broken. No longer did every little wave seem to laugh. No longer did the squawking tropic birds seem carefree and happy. Suddenly, in fact, they seemed almost urgent. For the first time during my carefree swims, I found myself really observing and wondering. When I dived back into the sea, I did not care to swim about with eyes closed as I usually did. Instead, I swam straight to shore, almost anxious to get out. These whims, of course, soon disappeared when I became immersed once more in everyday affairs but, even so, I did look forward to my next swim with a kind of wonder, uncertain what to expect. Several days later I again went to the same spot. It was early morning and the sea was calm and grey. I did not enjoy my swim at all, though I could see no reason why this should be so. Was it because I was lonely? Possibly it was. Certainly something was lacking. The tropic birds were no longer so noticeable, but it was something more than that. The sea itself seemed to provide the only answer. As it lay so deathly still, it seemed cold and threatening like some sleeping monster. Whilst I sat watching it, the air was suddenly pierced by the pathetic cries of a shorebird — the first of the migrants. I enjoyed its company for the rest of the morning and watched it often. I could not help noticing a certain wariness in the bird ' s actions, as though it were under the in- fluence of some great urge. Could this be the same feeling which I had, on a smaller scale? The next day my shorebird was accompanied by others. The air became electric with their urgency. And the sea, though it was as