Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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I stared at him dumbfounded, thinking that he was either out of his mind, or else making me the object of what he considered a joke. Very tender skin you have! The needle went in beautifully! he remarked, putting away his instruments. My eyes wandered to my arm where, as proof that the deed was done, a small reddish lump resembling a mosquito bite marked the place where the doctor had grabbed me. Gradually the realization that all was over penetrated my dazed brain, and picking up my hat I hastily left the room, leaving the doctor no doubt astonished at my rude departure. Once outside, I stopped in my mad career to collect my scattered senses. I had actually not even felt the needle enter my skin! Gone were my fond hopes of dying a heroic death, a martyr to brutal torture; and I heaved a sigh of remorse to think that my stirring epitaph was wasted, for the time being at any rate. The next morning, however, on awakening I was forced to think myself somewhat hasty in coming to this conclusion, for the excruciating pain which I experienced on rolling over on my left arm called forth a groan which truly sounded like Tennyson ' s swan fluting a wild carol ere her death. I was a little comforted on arriving at school to find others undergoing the same torments as myself, and I immediately joined the ranks of those who wandered around the gym. nursing their poor afflicted limbs, and dodging nimbly at the approach of any of the fortunate ones who had not as yet been inveigled into being inoculated. Dorothy and Lorraine Ward, Forms Upper VI and IVa. The Demon Doorkeeper EFORE I came to Trafalgar I used fondly to imagine I was quite good in gym. I was wrong. I erred. I admit my mistake. I am no good at all. If I was better than some, it was only because they were worse than I. On several occasions I had viewed Trafalgar gym. demonstrations and was quite intrigued with the feats of prowess performed with such apparent ease on ropes and horse (since my later acquaintance with this beastie, I infinitely prefer a Ford any day). I pictured myself in a tunic springing lightly over the tape to the accompanying applause of admiring parents and friends. But, alas, this was not for me. Instead, in the gymnasium demonstration, I distinguish myself as doot ' keeper, and earn my mead of praise for my conscientious efforts in guarding the sacred portals. However, I did not arrive at this state of proficiency without some training. A successful doorkeeper must, above all things, have tried to scramble over the horse before she realizes that doorkeeping is more in her line. And I have tried, with varying results. My first close contact with that noble animal, the ' orse, was when I amazingly discovered myself suspended across the brute like a bag of meal, after a mighty spring which should at least have taken me well over the beast. Again, when I try merely to sit astride him, my spring, like Macbeth ' s ambition, O ' erleaps itself and lands on the other. With ropes I fare better. I have now become so proficient in rope climbing that I am almost half way up by the time my partners in bliss are safely back to terra ' firma. Ba lancing, I have down to a science. I merely put my tongue in my cheek (the left one preferably), cross my eyes, and forge ahead. In drill, I am able to distinguish between left turn and right turn almost immediately. I never require more than five minutes for this, and have frequently been known to accomplish it in two minutes and seventeen seconds or two minutes and seventeen and one-fifth seconds. I can also halt now, without ruining my nose or without taking off the shoes of the person m front of me. But in spite of all these accomplishments, or perhaps because of them, I am still better as a door- keeper than as a gymnast. And I do loathe that horse! Margaret Bell, Form Upper VI. f 23 1

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Suzanne Lenglen Keen is your eye as the sword of the fencer, As quick to parry, to smash and to send; Your court is the battle-iield; you are the victor, To whom the others so humbly do bend. Your muscle is iron, your eyes as steel. Your feet are akin to that Mercury fleet. Perhaps it is they that your victories win. Your conquests, Suzanne, of the Quicksilver feet ! Your balls are your servants to do as you will, Your battles are won on the broad, open court. Your name is well known to us all the world o ' er. Your fame is unequalled in battle of sport ! Betty Stewart, Form IIIb. Inoculation JT ' S an ill wind that blows nobody any good ' For instance let us take the recent typhoid epidemic in Montreal. Although the loss of life and hospital expenses incurred were dis ' astrous to the general public, yet there was one profession which benefitted by the epidemic — namely, the doctors. Our family physician, in particular, took great pains to assure my father of the necessity of inoculation, and the outcome of it was that I found myself one afternoon in the doctor ' s waiting- room, outwardly calm and collected, but inwardly in fear and trembling. My heart sank within me when the doctor appeared at the door rubbing his hands together, and politely asked me to step in. Without daring to answer I stepped in, and as the door closed behind me, I felt like a prisoner hearing the gates of a jail clang behind him. At the sight of the instruments of torture arranged on the operating table I involuntarily shuddered and backed towards the door, bumping into the doctor on the way. My jailor ' s hand closed on my shoulder, and with one last despairing shiver I gave up all hope of escape. Come, now, it ' s not as bad as all that, the doctor cried laughingly. That laugh steeled me. I was not going to have a doctor ridicule me — I would stand all torture unflinchingly or die in the attempt. I fondly pictured to myself the consternation that would arise should I chance to succumb to the overpowering agony of inoculation, and I decided then and there to have the following epitaph inscribed on the momument erected to my bravery : Here lieth one who endured fearful torture and passed away with a smile on her lips. Cheered by this thought, I obediently sat down on the chair offered me and pulled up my sleeve. The doctor was preparing his apparatus, and as in a dream I followed his every movement. He filled the syringe and tested it, and as he walked towards me a horrid shiver wriggled down my spine. I instinctively closed my eyes, but, remembering my epitaph, I forced a smile to my, parched lips. The doctor plucked at my arm, and I knew that the fatal moment had come. I gulped hard and managed to grin feebly, expecting every second to feel the cruel needle plunging into my delicate skin. The moments passed — still I awaited the pangs of anguish. Suddenly the doctor dropped my arm and with a cheery, Well, that ' s over! assisted me to my feet.

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The Castle Throned on a height of elevated land, Tow ' ring in hoary might, surrounded in gloom, There like a frowning guardian does it stand, That ancient castle, dark as any tomb. And when the dusky shadows ' gin to fall, And laccedged trees are outlined ' gainst the sky, When the whole world is held as in a thrall. While the moon peeps out, and breezes softly sigh, Then people passing near that castle grim, Hasten their footsteps, glance round fearfully, Starting at fancied sounds or shadows dim. For haunted is that castle said to be. And so it stands, and so will stand for aye, Till some wild storm will fell each mighty stone, Until its crumbled ruins are in decay; Till then ' t will stand, forbidding and alone. N. Archibald, Form IVa. On Visiting New York Letter from Grandmother to A Mere Child The Maples, Danville, Quebec, April a7th, 1927. My dear Granddaughter: This morning I received a letter from your dear mother telling me of your intended visit to New York. It is many years since I was there but I do not think it has changed so very much. I am sorry that I shall not be there with you, but I shall try to tell you some points of interest of this great city and also advise you about a few matters. Your mother, I am afraid, is too indulgent with you and sometimes forgets how young you really are. Now, my dear, you must be sure not to attend any theatres or other such immoral places. There may be one or two good plays but it is better not to take any unnecessary risks. An occasional concert would be very instructive as well as entertaining, but you must not attend too many as such excitement is not advisable for a child of your years. Your mother tells me she plans to remain there for two or three days. If you use your time wisely I do not doubt but that you will have a most enjoyable stay. A very beautiful spot is Central Park, and if you go there for a walk, besides seeing this delightful place, you will receive the full benefit of the fresh air. But keep away from the bridle paths for you can never tell what these reckless young riders will do. You should also make it a point to visit the Museum of Natural History as well as the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There are some very good bookshops in New York and I should advise you to visit one of these and purchase one or two good books. You will be able to read these in the evening before retiring, but do not read too late for it is not good for your eyes, and your light should be out by nine o ' clock. I hope, my dear, that you realize how fortunate you are to have the opportunity of visiting this well-known city. If you follow my suggestions I feel sure that you will have a most enjoyable stay, but remember at all times that you are only eighteen — a mere child. Your affectionate Grandmother.