Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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SCHOOL OFFICERS PREFECTS Alma Howard Pauline Scott Helen McLaggan Alice Johannsen Barbara Tooke Betty Miner Sallie Ward FORM OFFICERS Form President Vice ' President T T X 7T Upper VI. Alice Johannsen Alma Howard Lower VI. Barbara Tooke Pauline Scott Upper V. Sheilagh Sullivan Norma Roy Lower V. Barbara Griffin Laurel Soper IVa. Patrica Mitchell Mary Pae IVb. Joan Henry Peggy MacKay IVb SpeciaL Beatrice Climo Megan Owen IIIa. Audrey Grafton Margaret Cannell IIIb. Anna Thompson Jean Morton Upper II. Nancy Murray Ruth Oliver II. Griselda Archibald Patricia Plant Upper I. Helen Eraser Janet Porteous Remove. Lois Malcolm Jane Seely I. Marjorie Robinson Renee Moncel The Naval Conference ON A VERY foggy day, typical of London, the Naval Conference of 1930 was formally opened by the address of King George. That day, January twentyfirst, marks the most important step yet taken toward world peace. The King ' s speech was broadcasted over all the earth; and an account of the conference written in every newspaper. Statesmen from England and her Empire, France, the United States, Italy and Japan, assembled in the House of Lords, and heard the King ' s welcome and hope for their success expressed from a golden throne, which was later carried from the room. The delegates from the five nations were seated about an horseshoe-table, on purple chairs ornamented in gold. Upon the walls, strangely enough, were two huge canvases depicting two great battles. Nelson at Trafalgar, and Wellington on the field of Waterloo, a strange setting for the discussion of world peace. Ramsay MacDonald, Premier of England, opened the discussion of naval armament, in which speakers from every nation took part. The keynote of the addresses was hope of success in the suggested limitation and reduction of naval powers, and each delegate expressed the wish that with successive conferences the plans would become more com- plete and more conducive to world peace. This opening conference did not accomplish or even discuss any plans, but was merely a good-will opening to the future sessions. Later conferences were held in St. James ' s Palace. Progress was slow due to natural disagree ' ments between the nations, but certain plans were formed in May that promise well for the future. A three-party Anglo-American-Japanese pact has arranged the scrapping of several of these countries ' battleships. A second five-power treaty has defined certain classes of ships subject to limitation; and has taken steps toward humanizing submarine warfare, among other agreements which probably will be expanded. Possibly the verdict of history will be that the London Con- ference set in motion a gradual process, which, continuing from year to year and generation to generation as the circumstances of the times permitted, finally produced a substantially disarmed world. Janet Cameron, Form Upper VI. [IS]

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To THE Girls of Trafalgar — My three years at Trafalgar I shall always recall with pleasure and I feel confident that they have been of very great assistance to me. For our Principal, Miss Grace Fairley, M.A., I have always had a real admiration and affection, and the principles she upheld I shall not easily forget. One was that it was much better to sacrifice all in defence of country or ideals, although one new at the outset there was no hope for a successful outcome. I am delighted that the School continues to grow and flourish and maintain such a high standard. J aturally I cannot but be gratified that the girls of the present should interest themselves in a graduate of IQ02. We, of the past, cannot fail to envy you the wonderful field which lies before you. It is utterly impossible for the girls of to-day to realize the circumscribed lives which women were for the ■most part compelled to lead only half a century ago. With added opportunities come responsibilities, but the graduates of Trafalgar will, I feel confident, be well prepared to play their part. Before very long I hope that I may have the privilege of visiting the old school and of meeting the staff and pupils. With every good wish to all, believe me. Most sincerely yours, CAIRIHE R. WILSOK Ottawa, Monday, Twelfth May, J meteen Hundred and Thirty. [17]

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An unexamined life is not worth living. — Plato. AUNT JANE was dead. Jenifer lay in the grass, her hands resting under her head, thinking about it. That very morning Aunt Jane had walked in the garden, scolded Hodges, the gardener for being a lazy, useless, dreaming fellow, and played tennis with the Hiltons. Then she had gone indoors, tried on the four new frocks that had come from the city that morning, and hurried away to a luncheon at the club. That afternoon she had brought back the Renfrews, the Carews and the Martins for garden tea. And now — she was dead. Jenifer shuddered slightly. Strange how suddenly death came. Aunt Jane sitting in the garden talking brightly, her slim white fingers moving restlessly about the stem of her lemonade glass, the sun shining upon her hair, shadow upon her neck — sunlight, shadow, laughter — then suddenly — all shadow! Aunt Jane fallen forward, her hands hanging limply by her sides, her face twisted and strange. That was death. Jenifer pressed her cheek against the softness of the grass. One could never think of Aunt Jane quiet, alone, thinking. Always she was running about, here, there, always with a crowd about her, always talking, never silent, and now — sorrow swept over Jenifer, great waves of it, a sorrow that was not grief exactly. More, it was a poignant regret. Jenifer could not understand it quite, this overwhelming feeling of pity for Aunt Jane ' s life, a life that had been all movement, all glitter. It was that she felt Aunt Jane had missed so much. Aunt Jane, who had never thought about life, about death; who had never paused and looked into the innermost, fundamental fibres of her own being. Why, thought Jenifer, Aunt Jane scarcely knew herself. She saw her again as she had seen her so many times, her mouth a discontented line, a little frown across her forehead, her long slim hands moving restlessly. She had called Jenifer a quaint youngster; such a difficult child. She could not understand her, she frankly admitted, this girl who liked above everything to creep off by herself. Strange child ! The wind swept through the birches, a cold, sobbing, little wind. Jenifer got up. She ran across the lawn to the house. She crept upstairs. Aunt Jane ' s door was closed. Jenifer softly pushed it open. The room was a place of shadows, grey blurs and wavering half lights. She could just see Aunt Jane ' s outline on the bed. She moved forward until she could see her face. Strange how it had changed ! Now it was a colourless, discontented, empty mask. It was hideous, dread ' ful. Jenifer shivered violently. Could it be that after death the face was the story of what the life had been? A little night wind crept in through the window, rustled through a pile of papers on Aunt Jane ' s table. One fluttered, fell to the floor. It lay just by Jenifer ' s foot. Idly her eyes rested on it. It was either a page from a diary or a letter Aunt Jane had been writing. Oh, I ' m so bored. I don ' t know quite what it is I want. Ronald thinks it ' s a rest I need. I never did enjoy sitting down with folded hands. I should loathe it now. Besides I ' m always frightfully busy. Somehow though I never get anywhere. Nothing seems worthwhile. The sentences stood out, vivid, arresting, pathetic, unhappy little wraithes. [19]