Trafalgar Castle School - Yearbook (Whitby, Ontario Canada)

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PAGE TWENTY-FIVE

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lAJIten the Contractor Came One morning I sat bolt upright in bed ! This may not seem particularly pec- uliar, but nevertheless it was. You see it isn ' t exactly a custom or tradition that induces me to sit up of my own accord at six o ' clock in the morning. I happen to be one of those persons that arises only upon being threatened or bullied at great length, and even with that, the process is painful. I yawned, blinked, stretched, made several loud groaning noises, and lay down again, deciding that I had had a bad dream. It must have been the same old dream about being demoted to grade one, and with that comforting thought I closed my eyes. The second time was worse than the first. I not only sat up in bed, but left it far behind, rising gracelessly into the air. Who on earth was making those nerve- wracking noises outside my window ? Maybe it was the teachers petitioning — but why so early ? My curiosity winning over my laziness, I stumbled quietly over my two sleeping room-mates before I realized that they were already at the window, gazing out into the cold and murky morning. While my eyes were focussing, I managed to yawn an inspired good-morning, and received the same inspired answer from two very tousled heads that always seem to look alike at that time in the morning. By this time our eyes had caught sight of a long line of trucks stationed out- side the window, and our mouths opened and shut in two-four time. Now I am not the type that panics easily, but it took all the restraint I could muster to keep from calling Fire . After overcoming our surprise at seeing the trucks, we noticed signs of life. In fact, the signs seemed to the large Economy size. Men with towering frames were lifting large boulders from a pit, and heaving them into a truck, drawn up beside the hole for convenience sake. Every few minutes one of the boulders would land smack on top of another boulder and produce a deafening noise. So these were the culprits ! J. OLMSTED PAGE TWENTY-FOUR

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In medieval days, gallant squires wooed their ladies and won their favour by composing long poems in their honour and by serenading them in the moonlight. Throughout the Elizabethan, the Classical and the Romantic periods, the beauty and grace of a poem was recognised by society as a refinement which it could not do without. Since the Industrial Revolution has gathered momentum, all but a few have forgotten or disregarded the desire of the human being to express his feelings through the medium of words. When Mr. Wilson MacDonald put foot across the threshold of our Alma Mater, he brought with him a whole new world of ineffable and profound beauty. For most of the girls, there was revealed that night an entirely different and new meaning in poetry. We were given an experience which was deeply felt and greatly appreciated. Rare inspiration and beautiful thoughts, brought forth in verse and imbued with the warm expressiveness and the deep-lying sense of humour of the poet himself made an evening long to be remembered by the students of the College. One outstanding characteristic among the many that are his shines brightly whenever the occasion arises. It is Mr. MacDonald ' s infinite love of little children. He has written of their innocence and sweetness and of the pleasure he has found in their company. None of us will every forget that touching story of Wisp A Wee or the excellent reading that the poet gave of it. A poem, having a lyrical quality, is like a song and without a song in our hearts, how empty life would seem. So it is without a poem. We, the students of O.L.C., wish to express our thanks and gratitude for being given this new insight into poetry and we salute the name of Wilson MacDonald in a song of better understanding. CAROL ROBINS PAGE TWENTY-SIX