Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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development of modern education. On Ash Wednesday, Archdeacon Gower-Rees spoke to us, and Dr. Donald has given us a share of his time on several occasions. On May the first we had an unexpected visit from Dr. Donald. He had a very special message for us this time. Our school ' s name had been changed from Trafalgar Institute to Trafalgar School for Girls ; which even the more conservative of us considered a sound alteration. The girls have tried hard, during this year of financial difficulties, to help others less fortunate than themselves. In addition to the usual Mission Box collections, girls sewed and knitted warm garments for poor children, several forms gave Christmas dinners to needy families, and during March and April we brought fruit and vegetables on Fridays for the I.O.D.E. baskets. We, of this year ' s Sixth, know that the blessing of the rest of the school is with us as we approach the dreaded Matric. exams., and we will try to do Trafalgar justice. With such a long line of successes in front of us, we ought to be inspired, but whether we pass or fail, we will always remember Traf. and probably we will all be back to see the old school sometime in the near future. The Late Miss Ethel Hurlbatt, M.A., LL.D. A loyal friend of the Trafalgar School, has passed quietly to rest, since the last School Magazine was published. For twentytwo years. Dr. Hurlbatt was Warden of the Royal Victoria College, and, from the very beginning of her tenure of office, she identified herself with the interests of the School, and in spite of her busy life, and many and varied duties, she found time to attend the entertain ' ments given by the girls from time to time. She was a familiar figure on the platform at all School Closings, where she always gave a cheerful and encouraging message to the girls, and more par- ticularly to those who were about to leave school and take up University work. She followed them with interest, not only during their College course, but when they went forth to the larger life outside the University, and while she spoke with pride and appreciation of her students who showed marked ability, she was equally interested in all under her care, and helped them in every possible way. In the tribute paid to her memory by the McGill Alumnae Society, reference was made to those little, namel ess, unremembered acts of kindness and of love for which Dr. Hurlbatt was so well known. We, too, gratefully recall many such acts, for she very often went out of her way to speak an encouraging word to a lonely or discouraged one, and she was just as kind and gracious to those who served her, as she was to her friends. She loved people, and flowers, and all the fine things of life. She wished for no applause nor commendation, and it was characteristic of her, that she left a request that there should be no special Memorial service held for her at McGill. Her last years were not free from pain, but she never complained, and she passed quietly, as she had lived, into the land where the weary are at rest. Her friends here will long remember her gracious, winning personality, and count it a privilege to have had such happy associations with her , for so many years. Martha L. Brown. [ 15 ]

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»gDiirDyRi. ]L XT HEN one has gone to Traf. for a number of years, one becomes attached to the old school. It has its faults, and often we complain bitterly about them, but in our hearts we know that when the last day comes we will be very loath to leave, and we pity the people who have been educated at home, or who have for some reason never known the joys of school life. We were exceedingly sorry to lose one of our Governors, Sir Arthur Currie, at the beginning of the year. Sir Arthur had helped the school to run smoothly for a number of years, and we had learn ed to look for his cheery face at our entertainments, so his death was a great blow to us all. We wish to congratulate last year ' s Sixth on their work in Matriculation, and especially Gary Horner, who won the Trafalgar Scholarship and came second in the Province of Quebec. Last year twelve girls passed and several of them are now at McGill where we hope they will meet with equal success. Sports, of course, are still close to the heart of every Trafite, and with such excellent weather conditions as the past winter provided, many of us have been, if not distinguishing ourselves, at any rate enjoying ourselves, skiing; as well as participating in the school games. We are sorry to see the First Team Basketball Gup leave our gym. which has been its home for the last two years, but we may safely say that its absence is not due to any lack of enthusiasm on the part of our team, but to the fact that an even better team met us, and we heartily congratulate the winners, the Study Team, who play an unusually good game and show a fine spirit. We are glad that the Second Team cup still remains with us, and we hope that with the warm weather coming on, and with due practice, we will be able to regain the Tennis cup which Miss Edgar ' s won from us last year. Due either to the intense cold, or the small dimensions of the rink, very little skating has been done this year, and hockey has been entirely neglected. But perhaps conditions will be more favourable next year and that sport will come to its own again. We have had several welcome ' ' treats during the year; the first of which was Miss Hazel ' s interesting lecture about the Northwest, which led to many girls starting correspondences with girls in Manitoba and Alberta. On the last day of the autumn term, we all went down to Ogilvy ' s store where we were enchanted by the carols sung by the Ghapel Savoy Ghoir Boys. In the second term we were greatly honoured to have Dr. McGracken, the President of Vassar, speak to us about [ 14]

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Retribution A T LAST his moment had come. The sweetness of revenge would be his. The pain and suffering of the last ten years would be wiped out, and he would be able to eat and sleep without being haunted by his obsession. Ten years ago, Jim Hall, his supposed friend, had ruined him financially, and had been the cause of his wife ' s death. The picture of the rogue ' s sneering and taunting smile was ever present in his mind. But to-night all debts would be paid. Life could be begun anew. His son, his pride and joy, would arrive from England in a day or two; and together they would set out for America, leaving old memories and tragedies behind them. Something rustled outside. He stood rigid for a moment, then slowly relaxed. It was only a sound of the night. He went to the window of the shack and peered out into the jungle. He could feel rather than see the wild life that teemed in its dark depths. Soft restless noises and the scent of damp earth and heavyperfumed flowers, were borne to him on the breeze. The darkness was intense. Nature seemed to be in co-operation with him. An undercurrent of excitement and expectancy surrounded him. What a perfect setting for his plan! Feverishly he paced the room, drawing his hand over his moist brow. It would not be long now — if only he could keep his nerves steady. He could visualize in his mind what was to happen. A step on the porch, the sudden pulling of the hidden vine, the releasing of the poisoned dagger, a low moan and then silence. Silence, he muttered to himself, silence. Yes, that taunting voice would then become silent and life would become bearable. Suddenly the sound of a footfall was heard. The man ' s eyes gleamed with fiendish anticipa- tion. Nearer and nearer came the unsuspecting man. The plan was working. The fly was being lured into the web. The man in the room seemed to cease breathing. The tick of the clock on the mantlepiece sounded like cannon shots. The man gripped the table to steady himself. Beads of perspiration stood on his forehead. The caller mounted the steps, one, two, three. Now he was at the top. Why did not something happen? What if the plan miscarried? The tension was unbearable. Suddenly there was a soft moan, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. For a second the watcher hesitated ' breathing heavily as if recovering from a long run. Then with a bound he burst open the door, and reached the silent figure. At last the debt was paid. He was free, free! Oh, life was wonderful! He bent over the body to see if the dart had completely fulfilled its mission. Then a hideous mocking, insane laugh, burst through the jungle. The wind caught it up and flung it tauntingly through the tree tops. A nearby bird, startled from slumber, uttered a weird, wailing, cry. Then the jungle settled back into a silence even more profound than before. The man on the porch now clasped the lifeless body of his son in his arms. Dorothy Brooks, Form Upper Vi. [ 16]