Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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some small wind-clouds about the sky. Our thirst was keen and the sparkling, dancing water seemed to lure us on. The descent was rapid until we came to the cold, thickly- wooded valley. We became confused amongst the formidable, majestic pines and spruces. The only hope of reaching the shining water was to push our way through, by forcing the boughs aside wherever it was easiest. Then, hardly realizing it, we almost walked into a lake. Once more in the open we felt free. Darting this way and that we searched a cool stream. At last some of our members found one, and with a halloa which echoed and re-echoed over the mountains, we rushed to drink from its cold water. We stepped from stone to stone in sheer delight, while it gurgled and bubbled, ever reciting the same old story. We followed its course up many a hill, stopping once to take our lunch under the spreading branches of a sturdy oak. Once or twice the stream made a sharp turn, or gushed into rapids, davShing a white foam over the surfave of the disturbed water. We were about to consult our compass when we discovered it was lost. We went ahead nevertheless, knowing it was useless to retrace our steps. The sun began to set, the sky became yellow, then a brilliant red and finally a pale, flimsy mauve. We had reached the summit of a mountain, nothing could be seen except trees, outlined against the darkening sky. Our party became disconsolate. The night birds mocked and shrieked at us. Our voices even in whispers were awed. At times there was aosolute silence with the exception of a few creaking and groaning pines, moved by the restless wind. One of our part} happily knew a little about astronomy, so all we could do was to wait for the stars, which would guide us in the right direction. Another one told jokes until ghost stories were introduced. We all professed bravery but inwardly we were shivering, outwardly too, for the night was chilly, even though we made a small bonfire. At length the stars peeped down on us and helped us out of our difficulty. On we plodded until we reached a great height. Then away below us we saw a train, curving like a phos- phorescent snake, and farther away were the dim lights of a village. We could not but acknowledge that it was a wondrous sight, although we were all fatigued. Down, down, down until we attained our destination. Fortunately we caught a late train. A weary party, blinking under the stare of the dazzling city lights, struck by the contrast of the peaceful beauties of nature, returned home ; sorry that such an eventful, delightful trip was over. Ernestine Ellis, V. a. An Autobiography of the Missing Sweater T AM a Trafalgar sweater, just a blue and white woollen sweater like so many others. But I ' ve had something they have not all had and that is the experience of being lost. I shall tell you about it. My mistress was one day up in the Assembly Hall playing basket-ball and she quite carelessly flung me over the radiator, thinking I would run to her after the game, I suppose. Instead I felt myself slipping backwards. It was a [20]

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AMBO MORTUI SUNT A veil, and it the beast did spy He covered it with blood And then departed in the dark To search for other food. Then Pyramus came hurrying up, He saw the blood, the veil, The lioness ' footsteps in the dust ! And then his voice did fail. He grasped his sword, spoke one last word, And plunged it in his breast. Then, rolling over on his side. Slept in eternal rest. Scarce was this done when Thisbe fair Crept from her darksome cave, When she saw her lover Eheu! How she did moan and rave ! With courage firm she seized the sword Then drove it in her side And falling on her lover ' s breast She gave one sigh and died. Next morn two maidens found them there When going to a spring And to their parents they did run The sad tidings to bring. DoREEN Harvey-Jellie, Form IV. a. Up Hill, Down Dale A S a rule people living in the country enjoy a trip to the city for a change, but they soon tire of the noisy hubbub and crowded streets. People in the city also enjoy a trip to the country, but seldom do they weary of nature, because of its simplicity. So we of the city set out at break of dawn solely for the purpose of gazing upon our native land, unharmed by artificiality. In order that we might complete our journey in one day we were forced to take the train to a small village. Here we alighted; with packs on our backs and a compass to guide us, we went due north despite the fact that a steep ascent lay before us. Up, up, up we climbed. Would the hill ever end? Ah! here was the top. The panorama that lay in front of us can not be described in any language to give it full value. It was a land of mostly fir trees, with a few clumps of maples and birches here and there. Rivers and lakes formed a tangled network of beautiful azure water. The sky was of the same deep blue and a slight breeze chased [ 19]

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dreadful feeling. I was so weak and helpless that back I went behind the heater where I remained for several days. I was quite lonely and apparently forgotten by all. Just as I was despairing, I heard Miss Cumming ask the girls if they had seen a sweater about the school anywhere. There I was very near and no one knew it. I could not help giggling, but had to con- trol myself for fear of being heaid. So many girls were being questioned about me, I really began to feel quite important. So-and-so had seen me on a Friday down in the cloak-room. On hearing this I nearly screamed because I had not been there at all. Another had seen me in the Assembly Hall lying on the piano. How absurd when I was really hanging in a dark cupboard downstairs. How could I be mistaken for any other sweater? After much discussion everyone departed leaving me still behind the radiator and blushing shamefully. But I could not help it for I seemed to be in such a terrible disgrace. I was left only one day more. Miss Cumming again asked about me and to my great surprise, a young girl dragged me by the neck from my hiding place and exclaimed, Here it is! There seemed to be great rejoicing, but a little too much laughing went with it to please my pride, for am I such a huge joke? Frances Ellis, VI. a. Shingled Hair Shingled hair so they say, is all the go and style to-day. But you never can tell. It suits some heads? it may — others — well I ' ll not say. But you never can tell. Some heads like balloons look, others the shape of Zepplins took. But you never can tell. Not long ago a doctor said, Shingling make a bald head — But you never can teh. A good topic when vSpeaking of hair, What style next wiU they wear — But you never can tell. Things change so from day to day, that it really is not safe to say What the coming styles will be — because You never can tell. Elizabeth Miller, IV., a. [21]