Selwyn House School - Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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28 SELWYN HOUSE SCHOOL MAGAZINE SONG OF THE TREASURE-SEEKER l've wandered over many a foreign land, Searching for that which Nature has in store. l've heard Niagara's foam-flecked waters roar: l've been from Abadan to Samarkand. I've seer the Yellow River and l've heard The kookaburra with his harsh voice call. I've seen a toad held in a python's thrall, A hindu tread on fire-coals undeterred. What have I found, though I have searched Tibet, Though I have trod the Asian iungles deep, And seen the dens where dragons used to sleep, And wandered westward till the sun has set? ln poverty oft, in trouble, fear and pain, Full three-score years in wanderings have l lost, But won a glorious hoard, worth all the cost- The memories that only wanderers gain. David Walker, Form V SKIING ADVICE You're zooming down the skiing slopes Your legs are hanging from the roof At near the speed of sound, Attached by hooks and string. And as you hear a shout behind, Your head is very, very sore, You chance to look around. Your arm is in a sling. ln front of you there is a tree, To all of you, who like to ski, You hit it going fast. And understand this verse, And as you wake in hospital, Try not to go as fast as sound, Around you is a cast. Or else you'Il need a hearse. Q P. Webster, Form IV THE SHIP From distant Araby came the ship, Laden with riches and spices for Royalty, Riding on giant waves came the ship, Driven onward by men of great loyalty. The Captain and crew all shared the same dream, As homeward they sailed with their cargo so rare, When from out of the south and on the port beam, Black storm clouds approached as the decks were made bare. With such fury and force the wind did it blow, That the masts were torn down and the sails washed away. The crew met their deaths in the depths down below As the ship disappeared in the mountainous spray. The moral is this: that dreams of great wealth Can bring ruin to men and to widows much sadness, For great riches can hardly compare with good health, And 'tis the simpler ioys often bring greatest gladness. J. Birks, Form V

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,13- Monlreal. flicer, n O tio Informa U.K. Davies, H. T. Mr. and ak VV YCI Sa of ment OVCYI1 G r for C6 Ofli ormation nf nes, I Philip Jo I'. M Lefl 0 G. B. Foote, D.D., R.C.N 95 Cenire: Chaplain of the Fleet Ern Upper Rev Murray C Mogor, B.D. he School, and asler of t rM Senia Howis, formerly r. B. K. T. M er Cenlre W Lo amy. nephew and oy G. Ballunlyne r Murr hlM Rig

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FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR 1959-1960 29 WOODLAND SONG He sits upon a woodland bough, Singing merrily. Sweet are the sounds that from him flaw, Singing merrily. Through the frosted evening air He sings as if without a care. His echoing song in the listening night Enchants the snowflakes in their flight- Singing merrily. He stays until the stars come out, Singing merrily. From the shadowy branch where he sits throughout, Singing merrily. He charms the hovering hawk of night To hark to him in the fading light. He sings to the stars and the ebbing tide: He humbles the very mountainside- Singing merrily. David Walker, Form V THE DEAD HOUSE People say that areas of mountain and barren moor cannot support large populations. ln this, oddly enough, they are wrong, in tracts of land like the Scottish highlands great populations used to exist off the land and in spite of hardship managed to survive. The younger generation, however, seeking the social amenities of the outer world, have left the crafts of their forefathers. Life in the crafts was hard, but homely, only by co-operation was it worthwhile. The heart was willing, and the life was free from interference. These crofters lived off what they could obtain from the sail by hours of tail and patient labour. This was usually sparse fare, so they grazed sheep on the surrounding moors to help them live. Until about a hundred years ago, there was no outside source of food, but with the increase of transport a profitable trade in wool grew up round the crafts. Even so the people were poor, and in many cases the very walls of the crafts were built of turf, cut by hand, or else of local stone. Fish and fowl were in some cases a staple diet, though the moors were windswept and the burns and lochans supplied only a few trout. Goats were kept for their milk and cheese, also, these grazed with the sheep. The crafts are disappearing, leaving great tracts of habitable land uninhabited. The herbage, once cultivated, is going wild or being choked out. Soon, of over two hundred crafts, there may remain only two or three at most. The rest will not even leave a mark to show where they existed. Why are they being abandoned? They are dreadfully lonely, far from good roads, and the life is very hard. Loneliness in winter, particularly, is the main reason, for the crofter has few means to drive away the feeling of solitude by amusement, especially when he is snowed up with a bitter gale blowing round his croft. This makes