Stratford Northwestern Secondary School - Norwester Yearbook (Stratford, Ontario Canada)

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100 YEARS OF WHAT? The Express came to a silent almost jarring halt and with a swish ooened its portals to admit an onslaught of smells and pandemonium associ- ated with the typical visitors to Expo. I happened to be occupying a double seat next to the window and was promptly joined by a slim, well tanned fellow burdened down like a pack mule with an assortment of cameras and accessories. Upon settling all his luaaage into suitable positions, he turned and introduced himself, Hello there, I ' m Sam Sneeze from California, he said extending his hand. Pleased to meet you, I am Cecil Roth from Ontario, I replied clutch- ing his hand. This sure is some country you have up here. I travelled through Ontario on my trip up and was really quite amazed at the way things are built up around here, exclaimed Sam. Yeah, we ' re rather civilized alright, I replied. Well you ' re really fortunate in Canada. I haven ' t seen a single Nearo in my travels and they ' re quite a problem back in the States, said Sam with a distraught expression. I guess it ' s the weather up here. It gets pretty darn cold in the winter and I don ' t think the Negroes care too much for the cold, I said nonchalantly. I ' ve read all about the Indians and the Eskimos of Canada and hoped I ' d be able to meet a few, said Sam, producing a glossy volume of Canada Our Next State. Not much chance of that, I commented The Eskimos don ' t come this far south. They all live up around the North Pole. It ' s too warm for them down here, I assured him. You will however, be able to see some of our Indians. We ' ve got them all packed into reservations same as you have. There is one about fiftv miles from where I live. Its along a beautiful beach at Kettle Point, but the reservation itself is a pretty rundown affair. It sort of spoils the resort and I ' ve heard the government has offered to build them an island in Lake Huron and was going to give them a few cases of hair tonic to boot, I informed him. Yes it ' s better if they are kept to themselves. It helps to preserve their culture, added Sam. I ' ve already been to the U. S. pavilion and they have a splendid display of some relics of Indian culture. Did you see all those beautiful silver saddles and spurs our cowboys once used? Well, they had Pecos Bill ' s original six shooter, the one he killed a hundred and twenty Indians with, spurted Sam with a burst of pride that showed he was a true jQexican. Yes, Expo was an excellent ample of the goodwill and brotherhood of men, I concluded as we bojfef a upland left the Express. Hyde, 12A ?

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BALLAD OF THE LOST These are men, not such as you, They ride beneath the skies of blue. They raise a protest with their voice, These are the men of Satan ' s Choice. They have no use for society ' s way, Or for confusion in the world today; To live their lives just having fun, Wild and free beneath the sun. They live each day as it comes Some people gripe and call them bu ' ms But they laugh and say, Who car While they ignore those icy s$ar Free to run wild and loud, Draw the eyes from a crowd Living easy, free from boun Run from slavering police h These are men, not such as $oV They rode beneath the skies pf olu They came, the vicious sireriV wail Which plunged them, lost, f a£ into ding over hill and dale, Trying to keep out of jail. All the police men think we ' re queer ust because we ' re free from fear. air is long, e .dom shave, ve no money, we never save Food is scarce, Excitement high, If you don ' t like this poem, Please, tell us why. You ' ll see us come. You ' ll hear the voice Of the many riders Of Satan ' s Choice . Stuart Romphf, 10E

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The Sun I (emphasized) am the sun. To me that is quite an unique statement; which should have raised a few eye-brows, aroused your curiosity or some- thing to that effect. You must realize that this is the first time during my entire boring existence that I have had the opportunity to express myself. You see, the life of a sun is really quite monotonous • After spending millions of centu- ries in one spot, where nothing can reach me, and where I can reach nothing, one can easily become quite lonesome and frustrated. Many a time and oft (a quotation from Shakespeare) have I desired to project myself amongst that maze of stars and galaxies; to be free; to fulfill my inner-most desires. ; As you probably have realized I radiate quite intense heat. This is another one of my staggering handicaps. You may benefit by my warm rays, but to me it is a hazard. Once I tried to make friends with a stray bird, well you can imagine the outcome. By nowVou are probably asking yourself, just what am I trying to tell you. Well.. I am putting in a plug for more astronauts; so that some day someone can pluck me from the heavens, or douse this infuriating heat. Ursula Schmitte, Looking from my window, at the freshly fallen snow. That sparkles as it tumbles upon the street below. I see a small child so young and meek, Building a snow man, across the street. And the crackle of fire is laughing in my ear. And the room is warm and sleepy, I wish you could be here. Sundays in this town, there ' s not a lot to do. I was listening to my records But my thoughts all turn to you, I try to read the magazine But the words aren ' t very clear. And I know there ' s something missing, I wish you could be here. Keith Johnston, 10D