Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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Moving on May First Oh, joyous Spring is here once more! We hear the pipes of Pan Accompanied by the rumbling wheels Of our Baillargeon van. The birds and bees are busy now, We too are occupied : We ' re beating carpets, scrubbing floors, And hauling beds outside. Although the trees are showing green. No bursting bud compares With our big packing case which burst When hurtling down the stairs. The pictures now are off the walls. And trunks lie all about; Th ' electric lights are off because The fuses have blown out ! It ' s rather dark at night because No lights are to be had. When father barks his shins, alas ! His language makes us sad ! The sweet Spring rains improve the soil Except on moving day ! Our van has sunk deep in the mud While struggling on its way. When, wearied out, to bed we creep To seek well ' carned repose. We scarcely close our eyes before The neighbour ' s cockrel crows! If any girl in this fair school Enjoys removal day. We ' ll stick her on a pedestal And crown her Queen of May. F. FosBFRY, Form Va. f 28)

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only hope hell find something cheap and pretty. I don ' t want to have to tell Mrs. Morlan what Mrs. Brown said about her drawingToom curtains — she might not like it! And I don ' t want to have to complain about the noise the Morlan ' s dog makes at night. I like to be friendly. . . . . Now weVe here well just look around. Oh! handkerchiefs! I want some for cousin Toddy. It ' s her birthday on Thursday. . . . ' Yes, handkerchiefs, please. (To the assistant who has advanced). . . . . Oh, white, I think. No. I don ' t know. Perhaps I ' ll see the coloured ones. I don ' t know what colour. Show me what you have. . . . . Oh dear! What a lot of colours! Now let me think. What will suit her best? Those pink borders are pretty, but she has such an awful complexion, and when she uses a pink handkerchief she will only look worse. And blue is as bad. I wonder whether yellow — or whether — I don ' t know. Perhaps, if I had heliotrope. Which do you like best, dear? (to friend). .... No colour at all? Why didn ' t you say so before? .... Well, if I didn ' t, I expect you to tell me what you think without being asked. Let me see the white ones, please. .... Plain or fancy? I don ' t know. Show me what you have. . . . . Yes, these are pretty. Now, I wonder — Have you got them with initials on? .... Oh, S. No, perhaps K would be better. Well, now, I don ' t really know. You see (to friend) — her name is Selina Kate, and we call her Toddy for short. .... I ' ll see some S ' s. No, perhaps K ' s. No, I shouldn ' t wonder if T wouldn ' t be best after all. Now you ' ve muddled me up dreadfully, taking out all these handkerchiefs. It ' s a silly thing to do. I don ' t know what to take. .... I ' ll tell you what! I ' ll just go home and think it over, and when I ' ve decided which initial would be best I ' ll come back and have it. .... No, nothing more, thank you. That ' s all. (To friend) Huffy sort of girl, isn ' t she? They don ' t seem at all helpful at this shop. You would have thought she ' d have had some ideas, wouldn ' t you? But no! (Sighing heavily as they leave the shop). I do think shopping is so exhausting. And it is so seldom you can get exactly what you want. {Exeunt. Joan Chillas, Form Upper V. My Neighbour ' s Garden My neighbour has a garden green and fair. With velvet lawn and rose-entwined bower, With many a splashing brook and bright-hued flower. Soft mosses, and the graceful maidenhair. The gentle blossoms offer up a prayer, A blessing of pure incense, with the power Of filling weary hearts with wondrous dower And smoothing from hurt souls all trace of care. I have no garden and no shady trees But daily through my kitchen window-pane The colour of his flowers gleams; their scent Is wafted to me by each vagrant breeze. Therefore I have no reason to complain But rather to be full of sweet content. Jane Howard, Form Upper VI. [27]

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Spring has come, whispers Robin, Flowers awake, oh, can ' t you see, That the great red jolly sun Says, Awake and joyous be. Flowers lift your coloured faces. Wake and see the snowflakes run; They ' re afraid, for don ' t you see. Spring has come, Spring has come. Spring has come, whispers Robin, Birds awake, sing and fly. Sing a song of joy and Springtime For don ' t you hear that joyous cry? Bluebird, show us your bright plumage. Lark, herald that the day has come. Let us all unite in chorus : Spring has come, Spring has come. Verse: Janet Cameron, Form IL Drawing: Ethel Renouf, Form IL [2H