Selwyn House School - Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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SELWYN HOUSE SCHOOL MAGAZINE So, if you're an old lady Who wants to cross a street, Be sure to have a Boy Scout by Who's nippy on his feet! John Matheson Cform VJ SPRING When winter's snows have lost their frigid sting And left behind morass and heavy mud, When hapy birds again are on the wing Above the nascent grass and bursting bud, When browns and grays become a verdure bright ln ioyous answer to the warming sun, When timid fledglings leave their nests for flight, Part of a pageant of new life begun, When bees are hovering amongst the flowers To gather sweetness for their busy hive, When fields of green are washed by passing showers And all creation is once more alive, Behold and marvel at the spectacle Of Nature's wondrous annual miracle! Andrew Schindler lform Vlj SAIVISON Of all the men upon the earth, Samson was the strongest. His mother vowed upon his birth, His hair would grow the longest. Delilah was his wicked wife, Who knew his secret powers, She shaved his hair off whith a knife, Which left him weak for hours! Then he was put to slavery And blinded with a spear, He had to wait for bravery Until he grew his hair. Then taken to the temple, Where the people laughed at him, Strong Samson flexed his muscles And the walls came tumbling in. Thornley Stoker TA. IVIY SISTERS Sisters can be good or bad, And make my day seem very sad. My oldest one is more like Mum, My youngest one is very dumb The middling one is more like me, She makes us laugh a lot, you see. Occasionally I love them all - But those days hardly come at all. And when they're out with boys at night l don't have anyone to fight! lan Stephens lform All

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FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR 196381964 29 is a whole countryside in which he can find beauty and serenity all in one. Here one can find a panorama of gurgling irvers, rustling trees, and high mountains unfold before him. If one can find nothing of beauty in a country such as this, one is either blind or very ignorant. Switzerland is surely one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Wilson, W., Form 5 The Coral Sea The sun was shining brightly, and a light breeze rustled through the palms on the shore of Mangrove Bay, Bermuda. The time was 10:00 A.M. and the heat of the tropics had not yet reached its midday height. I had just launched the small sailboat which was to take me to the barrier reef where I was going to spend the day fishing. As the cool breeze sent me skimming across the turquoise waters of the bay, the sun sparkled on the pink and white rooftops at the waterside. When I had cleared the bay and progressed into the heavy swell of the ocean, the sight that I beheld was of extraordinary beauty. Between the swells the sun turned the vast expanse of lonely ocean into a shimmering sea of silver and aquamarine, and when I turned to look at the island in the distance, it resembled the hump of some giant denizen of the ocean. Once anchored over the reef I gazed down on the bizarre seascape peculiar to that part of the world. The striped tiger-fish and the trigger fish darted to and fro amongst many different types of coral, creating freak shadows on the white sand below. After a full day of fishing in different spots along the reef, I headed back to shore. And iust as the last rays of the setting sun shone down through the palms, I beached my craft on the pink sand, and walked up the path home. J. K. Carsley, Form IVa CROSSING STREETS A rather aged biddy Waddled down the street. She seemed a little rickety And awkward on her feet. And when she reached the corner She looked both left and right, But made that one and sad mistake: She did not see the light. The trucks and cars were lined up Like hounds before the hunt. The lady did not care a hoot, But set off with a grunt. She passed the point of no return When green lights shone no more, And every driver in his car Pushed pedals to the floor. She cast a look of terror At the honking drivers who Created such an awful noise, She knew not what to do. And so she simply stood there And planted firm her feet, Until a Boy Scout happened by, All clean and trim and neat. He saw her in her peril, And to her rescue went, And they their steps together Toward the sidewalk bent.

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FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR I963-1964 31 A View Of Montreal Looking through the open window of my car, I gazed intently at the stately homes and wide front lawns of the City of Westmount. Houses of vast size extended for miles along the quiet street. Occasionally the silence was broken by a passing car or bicycle. Looking beyond this pleasant scene I beheld a panorama of the surrounding city. Far away in the distance were mountains which looked purple against the horizonp while in the foreground was the St. Lawrence River whose waters were spanned by towering bridges, each a masterpiece in itself. There were Montreal's loftiest buildings protruding into the sky. The Place Ville Marie appeared as a sparkling mass of steel reflected in the sunlight. Dorchester Street, in the heart of Montreal, looked like two thin lines along which ants were crawling. A mist was settling on the St. Lawrence, and the boats, laden with goods, were no longer visible. Soon very little of the city could be seen. Slowly people started to drive away, but hoping that the mist would rise I remained behind. Night was approaching. Lights became visible through the mist, and I could make out the headlights of cars, whose occupants were rushing home for their evening meals. Soon the mist lifted, and I again saw Montreal, but this time in a different form. Now only the lights along the banks of the St. Lawrence were visible and not the river itself. However, occasionally a beam of light from a passing boat shone upon the waterway, and for a moment I caught a glance of the still, black water. I heard the piercing cry of a train's whistle rushing through the night. I visualized the people having dinner or sleeping as they passed the outskirts of the city. Soon they would arrive at Windsor Station. A searchlight from atop the Place Ville Marie cast its wandering glance around the metropolis, as if to assure itself that everything was all right. Suddenly in the distance I saw an orange flame leap into the sky. For an instant the neighbouring buildings were lit up, and I could discern every detail. The fire spread, igniting some of the surrounding houses. I was sure that the fire station would have been notified by then, and as it turned out I was correct. For within half an hour the fire had been put out. Realizing that it was late, and that I was the only person left in the black of the night, I started my car and soon arrived home. In bed I lay awake thinking of the beautiful view that I had iust witnessed. John McCallum IForm IV AJ OSCAR My story starts one morning in a little village called Birnine, near Lytton. It is at 6248 Spruce Street, and Mr. and Mrs. McRambler are having breakfast. David their son has already left for school. He is twelve years old and very smart in latin and mathematics. Penny the parrot, is eating her morning meal of bird seed. Oscar the cat, is also having his morning meal of hot cream. Oscar is a quiet and intelligent cat. Penny on the other hand is stupid, but full of talk. Oscar who is black and white with blue eyes is now washing himself. Penny has finished eating and is looking at herself in the mirror and saying to herself, Pretty Penny, what a pretty bird . Oscar busy wash- ing his ears, looks up at Penny in her gilded cage ond says to himself, What a miserable nuisance you are. One day I shall eat you. Next day the family went out for a picnic leaving Oscar and Penny in charge of the house. Once they were out of sight Oscar iumped down from the window sill and walked over to the cage. Penny flew around in terror. Next Oscar opened the cage door by lifting the latch. Penny flew out, Oscar iumped down, and the chase was on. China cups smashed, salt spilled all over the carpet, two books landed on Mrs. McRambler's best vase and there was a terrible crash, but this mess did not bother