Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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Faithless The cavalcade of time goes slowly by, But the youth of to-day can never know What harvests others reaped, what they did aow. Men gave themselves to country, courage high; They went to war to fight, and stayed to die. And now in Flanders ' fields the poppies grow, Memorial to those who now lie low, Unheeded in the modern hue and cry. To ' day the face of man is sore harassed, He tells his tale of woe to every friend — Of luxuries foregone, of bills in store; He does not think someday it will be past. He does not to his task a shoulder lend. Nor keep the faith with those brave men of yore. Gary Horner, Form Upper VI. A Day in Bermuda UR steamer left Halifax on Monday, and Thursday morning I left my cabin for the first time. As I walked unsteadily along the narrow corridor I began to wish that I had remained in bed, but I could not help feeling ashamed of myself, so I resolved to walk around the deck once at least. It was a glorious morning. The sky was a bright blue and not a cloud was visible. Great white seagulls soared above the glimmering water and now and then swooped down as if to seize some prey, only to soar once more to a greater height. As I stood admiring these graceful creatures, my attention was attracted by some excited passengers, and in answer to my inquiries, I was informed that land had been sighted. I could hardly express my joy when I saw several small islands, and a few minutes later I realized that we were about to land on the largest and most beautiful island — great Bermuda. As I walked down the gangplank I received my first impressions of the much-advertised island, and I assure you they were not disappointing. The roade and buildings were made of white coral, and because of this I was obliged to purchase a pair of coloured glasses, as the reflection was great when the sun was shining. The town at which we landed was very small, so after I had visited some of the shops I decided to get a cab and go to the Grystal Gaves, which are some distance from the town. The cab which I hired was drawn by two black mares, and at my request the hood was lowered. I had intended to rent an auto, but I discovered that only bicycles and cabs were allowed on the island. As I drove slowly through the villages, groups of small children would run after the cab asking for pennies, and whenever I threw some to them there was a desperate struggle. After lunch I visited the Grystal Gaves, which were very interesting. My guide led me through a narrow corridor, the walls, floor and ceiling of which were made of limestone. Soon we entered a large cavern where peculiar white icicle-shaped objects hung from the ceiling and rose from the floor. My guide informed me that these were stalagmites and stalactites, formed by calcareous water dropping from the ceiling of the cavern. In one place these had joined, forming what resembled the pipes of an organ; and when they were gently tapped, a soft musical tune could be heard. Later in the afternoon I had tea at a small tea-room surrounded by fields of snow-white lilies. These lilies were the pride of Bermuda, and just before Easter they were sent to all parts of the world to adorn churches and cathedrals. As I watched the beautiful flowers swaying gently in the breeze, I imagined that I was on a lonely island and the fields of lilies formed a sea of foam- capped waves. While I rode slowly back to the ship I watched the sun sink into the depth of the horizon, and the few stray beams that lingered behind among the islands seemed as if they wished to remain, and I did not blame them, because that was my idea of the end of a perfect day. Betty Henry, Form IVa. [ 24 ]

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high school and college education, improved and polished by travel, advantages which he never had. He is passionately fond of the boy, and keeps reading good hooks and improving himself as much as possible, so that the younger will never have any cause to be ashamed of his father. He is every inch a man, lust to those under him and kind, a great giver to charities, quick to make a decision, a born leader of men, and with an unfailing sense ot humour. He is perhaps the most popular man of the club, being liked and respected by the members, and trankly adored by the servants. I now come to Sir Henry Morton. He has a cold, hard face and is the hardest man for a business deal that I know ot. He is president of a famous railway company, and has for years filled his own pockets, lived on the company ' s money and robbed those under him. His sense of humour is only aroused when he tells a joke, which he does every time he comes; and because his morals are not very high, his jokes are sometimes a little too strong. He likes to have people pay him deference, but none of us do; so his visits are very infrequent, for which we are all heartily thank- ful. He IS a successful business man; but how different from Mr. Langton! Younger than the rest of us is Gilbert Martin. His father was a very successful commercial lawyer and therefore he expects his son to be a success in law also, bu t I am afraid he is doomed to disappointment. Gilbert would be sensational either as an actor or a playwright, because his talents lie in this direction, and he has produced several amazingly good plays at college, but his father will not realise this. The boy has quite a free time around town because his family live just outside the city, and so he knows all the Bohemian set, chumming with the young authors, painters and pianists, and we at the club relish the little tales he tells about them. He does not come very often, but his visits are like a fresh spring breeze, and he is obviously a great favourite with the ladies from the little things he says, though they are not said with any intention of giving this impression. Gilbert seems to be constantly laughing and his gaiety is infectious, we find; he never seems to take anything seriously, but there have been chance occasions on which I have seen a very different Gilbert from the usual laughing, joking, young blood. After one ot his visits we old cronies sit back with a sigh, but I wonder if the sigh is for our past youth, or for the peace that comes when youth is gone? Aubrey Leach, Form Upper VI. Night in Country and City ' I HE sun slowly sinks below the horizon, leaving only a fading splash of colour in the western sky. The wind dies down, and a sense of quiet peacefulness pervades the meadows. Now and then the call of a sleepy bird or fowl shatters the silence. As the light fades, bats dart to and fro, and an ov ' l hoots in the distance. Gradually darkness falls; one by one the stars appear — and twinkle merrily at one another. In the little creek, giant bull-frogs serenade their mates. Then suddenly, from out of a silver sea, comes the moon, big and red, and smiles softly down on the sleeping countryside, and tries to look her best for the benefit of the insignificant human being, who gazes on her splendour, in awe and reverence. Thus, one sits quietly all evening, watching the common, but always inspiring, phenomena of night ! Night in the country never fails to make one glad to be alive, and to forget the worries and heartaches of the day. Night in the city is an altogether different thing! The sun goes down behind tall severe buildings, half obscured in mist and smoke. The lights are turned on in the streets. Office build- ings open their doors to let out a boisterous, noisy crowd of humanity, all looking forward to a night of amusement. One little star peaks out from behind a big cloud, but hastily retires as if frightened by the bright glare of the electric light. The smell of thousands of suppers cooking, and the laughing and grumbling of their owners, are met with everywhere. A little later, the streets become packed with people; motor cars honk and roar over the roads; theatres swallow thousandi of poor defenceless mortals; hotels entice people to come and make merry in their numerous halls of pleasure. This frivolity continues until early morning; then everybody goes home, and imagines that he has had a good time, and looks forward to doing the same thing the next night. So the world goes on, and the moon looks down pityingly on the poor things, who do not know what beauty and peacefulness is ! Peggy Kaufmann, Form IVa. I 23 ]

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A Dog ' s Idea of Heaven Last night I went to heaven. To that great land atar; In the party there were seven. Each rode upon a star. We travelled very quickly, Till we came near the gate; We then jumped off abruptly, Each one his place to take. The gate was made of mutton bones. Large owls upon the posts; And cats of many different tones, Which all resembled ghosts. Then when the gate was opened. Each walked m single file; It caused no slight commotion, When we stepped on steak instead of tile. The trees were made ot candy canes, Old slipper; tor their leaves; And balls with various coloured veins That we could chew and squeeze. The houses there were very small. With only a tiny door; While lump,- ot sugar made the wall, And sponge cake formed the floor. The hills were made of pink ice-cream. The streams ot water clear; Which made a very pleasant scene. With biscuits in the rear. The valleys there were full of mud, Where we our bones could hide; The bridges they were built of eggs. With sausage they were tied. Oh dear ! oh me ! Where can I be? The clock has just struck seven; The star has fled, why Tm in bed. With only a vision of heaven. You ask me my idea of heaven, Though the vision is all very clear; But I think this home is a heaven. With my little mistress near. Dorothy Brown, Form IVa. The Brief Visit of The Royal Scot to Hudson A FEW DAYS before The Royal Scot (the Scotch express train that is visiting Canada) was to leave on her maiden trip across Canada and the United States to Chicago, to be exhibited at the Century of Progress Exposition to be held in the summer, we heard that she was going to pass through Hudson (about forty miles from Montreal) on her way to Ottawa on May the second at eight o ' clock in the morning. This afforded a great deal of excitement among the inhabitants, I can assure you, until the great day arrived. On the eventful morning, therefore, we all went down to the station in good time. There were cars full of people and the platform also was quite crowded, because a number of people go to Montreal on the eight o ' clock train, I among them. Presently we heard the toot of a seemingly tiny tin whistle, and along came The Royal Scot, very slowly, in all her glory of shining new paint and nickel. Just as she stopped, the bright brass bell hung down near the cow-catcher clanged a greeting. When she stopped, we all walked up and down to see as much of the inside as we could, and considering that she was not open for inspection, we got quite a good view. In the dining cars the menus, with the picture of a High- lander playing the bagpipes on them, were placed on the tables close to the windows so that all could see them. There were a few passengers cn board who looked very important. The engineer was a cheery Scotsman who asked us if we wouldn ' t like a ride. In a very few moments, with more clanging of the bell and blasts of the whistle, amidst cheers and good-byes, our visitor puffed her way out, our own train came in, and after climbing on board we speeded off in the opposite direction, wishing that the brief visit were not over and that The Royal Scot would come back soon again. JuANiTA Cronyn, Form Upper Vi. [ 25 ]