Toronto Teachers College - Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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asm, ,Six nvwrmwvmmwmmwp ,vrrrnrvmvvvrrvrrfrrr l TOROIFMTO NQRIHMQL SEI-IOOLYEZIR BOOK little girl carrying very carefully a small alabaster model of the Taj Mahal, which is a magnificent tomb built in memory of a beautiful and saintly lndian lady, and is near Lucknow. We ask her if she thinks it is pretty, and in her childish way, she tells us. that there is no picture anywhere to compare with the sight of the Taj Mahal as it stands white among the palm trees reflected in the lily pond at its feet, the many towers piercing the blue. Outside the station the taxi and carriage drivers shout at us to take their vehicles and we finally take a victoria and tell the driver where we want to go. We never tire of visiting the market. the linglish stores and the Aquarium. Wie drive down the beautiful beach boulevard where we watch the breakers roll in on the sands near by: and we go past Government llouse grounds with their long green lawns and flaming tiger lily beds. and we admire the high white mansion. The city is beautiful and interesting everywhere. but we always go down to the dock as the last and most interesting place. lt is fascinating to see the huge ocean liners. and the new-comers who seem bewildered by the presence of street-cars, busses. and many other western things amidst the dusky forms of the natives. and the little nude babies sitting on the hips of their graceful black- haired mothers. We would tarry here longer but we must catch the train which takes us another step nearer home. so we hurry back. We do not stay awake this night after seeing the city, and the change at the little junction at twelve-thirty seems rather inconven- ient, but we bundle out and are soon asleep in big chairs ton the station platformj, under the bright stars. Before it is light we start oll' on the last, lap of the journey, on a poky little train which pants along between the rice-fields, past queer hay stacks with their weird scare-crows on top of them, and past little groups of brown huts nestling beneath the banyan trees. Just as the soft mantle of mist lifts from the sleeping world. leaving the dew-drops prism-like ill the lirst enchanting rays of the sun, we pull into the little village station. The station is just a dusty platform with llowers growing along the fence and a very tiny station house. llere we are met by one of our own servants and we feel that home is just around the corner. Hut we have some distance to go yet. Our trunks are piled into the front of a jutka, which looks like a loaf on wheels, but it is really a horse-cart. We squeeze in with our legs dangling out the back. With a yell and a crack of the whip we are off, the driver perched on about two inches of the lloor at the front. As we go through the village, we see the women with their long coloured sarees tucked up, grinding the spices for the day. while the children write their lessons in the dust, or play marbles in the streets. Passing the temple we see the sacred bull with many garlands of llowers round his neck, and out in front. a holy man is seeking reward by lying on a bed of spikes. We leave the village behind and come to the river which is sparkling and rippling in the early morning sun. Here the coolies meet us and take our trunks while we walk down the bank and across the sands to the ferry. We have to be carried across the little stretch of shallow water and then the ferry starts. We go slowly along picking our way between the sand bars. .lust before we get to the shores of the island something brown comes swimming along, and as it raises its gruesome mouth from the water we exclaim, crocodile. The ferrymen pole harder until the bottom of the boat grinds on the shore of the island. What joy thrills us as we step out on the bank and meet the home folks. There is the rickshaw, a wooden seat on wheels with two long shafts and a cover over it, waiting to take us along the canal banks to our home. The rickshaw men pull us quickly along under the trees which are mirrored in the still waters of the canal. Just before we reach our gate we meet a wedding procession. The band walks in front of the palanquin, or litter, where in one corner sits a girl of about thirteen bedecked with jewels and flowers, and wearing a red saree, and at the other end a man of thirty-tive leans over to talk with one of the crowd that follows. As the procession passes, we have a glimpse of a flat-roofed red brick house with many arches, hidden among the trees in a garden and as we turn in at the gate, and come through the garden up to the wide, cool veranda, our cup of joy seems brimming over. In the evening as we sit in the garden among the red shoe-flowers and golden ball llowers and watch the southern cross come up. though India is scattered with great cities, and mighty mountains. and royal palaces, and though other climes may have their charm. none seem half as entrancing as our beautiful island home. li. li.-XTHLEEN Caoss.

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5 referrer Qnm, Yttl t1 . .1 ... .... .Q A TORONTO Nonmm. scnootv n Boon My HOLIDAYS COME IN INDIA EATING boarding-school for home brings the same excitements 111 every land, but the journey home in India is very different from any Journey 1n Canada. When the day arrives everyone is up with and before the rising- bell. for there are no sleepy-heads the day we start for home after ten months on the hills, for our two months' holiday on the plains. Breakfast is over, and in a surprisingly short time, the bullock carts arrive and our trunks are piled in. The last trunk is delayed because someones trunk refuses to shut. but under abnormal pressure it finally submits and is hurried into the cart which is sent jogging on its way, with only half an hour to go the three miles to the station. We get down to the station just in time to get our tickets and scramble into the open compartments of the train. When we leave the station, we travel along beside a little river which leaps and bounds down the hills between the tall tree-fer11s and the waving bracken. We round a bend, and there above us, towers the Droog, that rugged peak where Tippoo massacred tl1e British soldiers during the Indian Mutiny. I t is like a sentinel watching the plains far below, where the many sacred rivers flow and the queer yet beautiful 'temples stand out everywhere among the palms. As we go down the mountain. we pass through high banks where wild flowers and ferns grow. We lean out the windows at the risk of losing our toppees. which are pith sun hats. and now and again succeed in pulling away a spray of flowers or a bit of bracken. We quickly draw in, when we plunge without warning into one of the fourteen long tunnels, and we hold our handkerchiefs to our faces to keep from choking with smoke. We are just wondering if the tunnel goes on forever when our eyes are blinded with the sunlight. and we look out. We catch our breath as we look down and see far below us the stoney bottom of the great valley. Opposite us a beautiful waterfall plunges straight. down the side of the mountain, like a silver ribbon against the dark back ground. Thus we go, always down, past quiet little stations and noisy larger ones, where vendors of sweet-meats and fruits cry their wares and where we can get every kind of soft drink. As we draw nearer the plains. the air becomes warmer, and the wild forests give place to vast cocoanut groves. where the monkeys chatter and brilliantly coloured parrots wrangle with each other. .lust after the sun has kissed the last blue peak good night and the landscape fades into shadow. we glide smoothly into the first station on the plains. Wie are so excited about getting from one train to another that we do not notice the heat until we are safely in the mail train. The people outside are shoving and pushing. quite forgetful of caste and colour. linglish and lndian find it hard to procure a place on the crowded train. Beggars, ragged. dirty, with unkempt hair, and in all kinds of horrible conditions, go from window to window, and stray dogs get as much in the way as possible. When the train starts we settle down. There are four long leather seats and two upper births in our carriage and a table, a revolving chair, an electric-fan and a light witl1 a green shade com- plete the furnishings. Vile soon have our beds made for the night, but are too excited to sleep soundly. ks we go into a big station the bright lights. the noise of the crowd and the ,general commotion wake us up, and we get out and walk the length of the train in the cool night air. As we pass the place where the natives sleep on the wooden benches. on the floor and on their bundles. we wonder how they can sleep in the open carriages with the noise around them. The next morning we roar into Xladras about eight-thirty and almost before the train has stopped. a mob of sparingly clad coolies are at our door. They take our luggage down the crowded plat- form tothe waiting-room where we leave it with a trusty Anglo- lndian woman. ll 'takes some time to pay ofl' the coolies who argue about how much they should receive. but finally we get rid of them and st-art out to find a conveyance to take us around the great citv. As we make our way across the platform we see crowds of people from all over India. A group of pilgrims pass, who come from the great Himilayas in the IIOI'l'lI. which raise their snow-capped heads high into the azure sky. The pilgrims are visiting the many sacred shrines and temples scattered over lndia, and they seek peace by bathing in the sac1'ed rivers which water the plains. We pass a Page Eighty-one

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'iqynr Hmm' x fmmwmnwnwrmmmwwmmn Q. W ' Ill-lllll. MLIMIMLMA Q 7 J M Y ,:. Al I 1 ,Q 1 W 5 TORONTO NORMAL SCI-IOOLYEZIR BOOK 5 W 5 L fm I Pax ENCE. dark, consuming llvar. Qfuherce lllars, andjealous Hermea born, In fiery hell forIornA fllongsl hissing snakes, and groans, and bloody gore, Find oul some fre ringed care, Where moaning beasls repenl lheir sins forerer more, A nd lhe dealh-razien sings: There, under rolling clouds and dazzling lighlning's flash, In hale's appalling clash. Thou curse of nalions, rare. Bul come, lhou Goddess pure and ealmq Come Peace! lo all lhe wailing land. Thy lighl puls .Iupiler lo shame, And flows o'er all lhe rolling plain. Opollo chose, oh Goddess fair, Venus. lhy molher, for yo11r eare. Ur. as some say. from Ilearenly slale. From roofs of gold, and pearly gale- Peaeefloaled down. as showers in spring. Wilh life and healing in her wing. Come angel. wilh perfeelion greal: Wilh soolhing voice, speak lo lhe slale: As sound rn' dislanl lnounla in streams, speaks lo lhe hearl, A nd perfeels ils deep dreams. So come, lhou dream of nalionsfree. And bring wilh lhee Prosperilyg Lore, which greires al olher's woe. As brolhers grieve from common blow. ,Way hdercury lune his lyre again: And .M uses sing while march ing in lhy lra in. The song of Vesla, who sils alofl Fanning lhe blaekenedjire of prirale hearlh. HENRIETTA PEHCY. Form Ill. Marion Shaw Cteaching buddingjz Therefore we see that if we bud one specie of a tree to another, a new specie will be obtained. Young Mustard: Well if an apple tree were budded to a pine tree would we get a pineapple? lllr. Whyle: What do we find in the driest air 9 -----: Moisture lllr. Whyle: We even have moisture in classroom. Miss Bibby: What is wrong with the phrase those kind of men'9 lllary Slewarl: Miss Bibby, there is only one kind of men. .Uarion Preslon Cteaching laboriously at a geography lessont: Rosie, have you ever seen the Catskill Mountains 9 Rosie: No, but l've seen the cats kill mice. Now listen , said the student to a 'first booker at Ordef in order to subtract things have to be in the same denomination. This is what I mean: Now, you could not take 3 apples from -1. peaches. or 8 marbles from 9 buttons. and so on. Do you nnderstandu? Please teacher, the small boy inquired anxiously, could you take 3 quarts of milk from 2 cowsult