Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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His name is Tom and all day long He stands within his stall, His ears alert, his head erect, Awaiting my love call. I often take him sugar, Sometimes a carrot too, And if perchance I get there late He ' s in an awful stew. He stamps around and paws the floor In fact he seems to say If I can get no tit bits here I don ' t think I will stay. He used to do a little work But now he is so old That all he does is eat good oats. And sometimes he ' s so bold He even tries to flirt with me And push me with his nose, As if to say, I hope my dear You have no other beaux. Margaret Lundon, Form IIIb. Voices MANY people do not realize the importance of cultivating an agreeable speaking voice. Even those who have a naturally pleasant voice do not make the most of it but allow themselves to fall into careless habits of speaking such as raising the voice to a disagreeable pitch or on the other hand speaking in an indistinct tone that cannot be clearly heard and understood. Who has not listened with a feeling of some dismay to a child whining for something which has been denied her? This, if allowed to continue, may develop a habit and nothing is more unpleasant than a whining tone of voice. Then there is the peremptory tone of voice which is used by many people who are accustomed to giving orders. It is quite possible to give an order in an authoritative and yet pleasant manner without raising the voice unduly. A loud voice may be necessary at times, but in everyday life it is seldom welcome. There are many reasons for a person developing the habit of speaking in a loud manner. It may be nervous ' ness or an inferiority complex. Some people feel that they must raise their voices in order to make themselves heard when they are in a crowd. This is a mistaken idea because the one who speaks in a low voice and not too often is usually the most respected. Voices are very frequently raised in anger. This shows a loss of self-control which is very deplorable. One of the earliest lessons that a child should be taught is to control his temper and not to raise his voice in anger. He should know that A soft answer turneth away wrath. Is it not a fact that among our greatest statesmen it is so often found that a pleasing voice has contributed to their important position in life? Now that the radio is so widely used we find that the voice is of great importance in making us listen to what the speaker has to say. Sometimes a perfectly good speech is lost to us because we turn off the radio rather than listen to the speaker ' s disagreeable voice. A distinct manner of speaking is of great value to one who has to do much speaking, whether directly or over the telephone or radio. It is a great trial to have to take a message from one who mumbles and speaks indistinctly. A beautiful singing voice is a gift given to the favoured few, but the great majority of us can at least improve our everyday speaking voice so that it will be agreeable to the ears of the rest of the world. Betty Brodie, Form IIIa. I 28 ]

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Sailin pOUR children stood on the beach, one beautiful summer day. The St. Lawrence was in a pleasant mood, the waves were a deep blue just tipped with white and there were no clouds in the blue sky. The eldest was a boy of about fourteen, then two girls of twelve or thirteen and the smallest a boy of eleven. They all stepped into a boat, and immediately they were no longer children but seamen. The eldest captain, the next the mate, the next boatswain and the youngest cabin boy. The cabin boy was rowing, and as he began to pull towards a pretty eighteen foot sloop, moored farther out, I listened to their talk. Nothing of interest but full of the spirit of holidays. C. B. (resting on his oars) — This dinghy ' s about seven years old isn ' t she? Feels like three. Bo ' sn — She ' s still got another seven and more to live. Capt. — A long time. Are we going to spend it all here? C. B. (sarcastically) — I suppose you didn ' t notice that the wind ' s off-shore and we ' re nearly on the spindrift. Capt. — Bow-man, you landlubber! Don ' t let her bump, and Mate when you ' ve finished letting us go out to sea, you might make fast. Mate — Ay, ay, sir, only don ' t stand on the painter please. Capt. — ]S la e fast. Cabin boy, sail cover. Bos ' n, stow the coats the Mate gives you. Mate, look to the coats. Mate — Here they are. Bo ' sn — Oh!! sorry, Boy, I think I dropped yours in. C. B. — Well, jump in and fetch it. Mate — Hang this jib, it needs two new clips. Capt. — All ready? Bo ' sn, stand by to cast off. Bo ' sn (after a minute) — All right! Capt. — Cast off. Bo ' sn, — She ' s clear! Capt. — Hoist jib, belay. Hoist throat and peak, steady on the throat, belay. Boom the jib out to port — let her go and come aft the rest of you. Mate — Bags be bow-man ! Bo ' sn — Only for half; I ' ll help you coil down. Capt. — Gybe-Oh! — let ' s go out to Windy Corner. Mate — Ow! (as wave comes aboard). What did you do that for. Capt, — Did it hit you square on the neck? Teach you to sit up there. Mate — Down the back, I think. Give me my slicker, please, somebody. Never trust a helmsman. And then they passed out of hearing and I watched the boat tacking gayly up and down. Jean Scrimger, Form IVa. My First Love I have a horse, a kind old horse. As black as he can be; He lives alone far, far, from here. And presently you ' ll see, The reason why I like this horse And all his funny ways. And if you come to Fraser Lake I ' ll show you where he stays. His home consists of great log walls Surrounded by big trees — His friends are rabbits, birds and deer And sometimes even bees; [ 27 ]

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A Day in Mexico ' THE day dawned bright and clear. I awoke, with the cries of the flower-peddler, as he called out his tempting wares, which were, as you can imagine, many brilliantly coloured flowers. Many people stopped to buy an orchid or two, or a beautiful jasmine, for, I think, and perhaps rightly, that flowers add a lot, and mean a lot to a person in a summery country like this. I could not stay in bed long, for the cries of the fast-waking city, and the sound of the Indians, as they called out their good mornings, lured me out of bed. I was at the window a long time, gazing at their quaint costumes, and listening to their speech, which was very beautiful, as it was both musical and liquid. A greater part of the day was spent in sight-seeing in the beautiful City of Mexico. From several points of the city — the best being the golf course — we saw the two beautiful volcanoes. The higher, and more famous one was called Popocatepetal. I was surprised to see that this mountain looked like a man, while the other looked like a sleeping woman. Our guide told us there is a beautiful legend connected with them. Long, long ago, when Mexico had not been invaded by the white man, Mexico City was ruled by an Aztec King, of untold wealth. He was a good king, and loved by his subjects. He married a beautiful Indian girl, and brought her to his palace to live, the people were overjoyed. When an enemy tribe heard this they were very jealous, and decided to steal the princess away. Next day, when the king found her gone, he tried to send his men after her, but no one would go, for they all knew how dangerous the tribe were. At last the king decided to follow the route that the enemies had taken. On the way he found her, fainted away. He carried her back to the palace, and restored her to health, but while she was recovering he did not leave her once. When they both died, the volcanoes took these forms — a sleeping woman, and a man guarding over her — as a lesson to the people, that fidelity is one of the greatest virtues man can have. In the afternoon we went to the markets, to see some more wonders. The things they sold there, such as vanilla beans, pieces of sugar cane and live turkeys, were all new to me. I learned that if you want to buy a turkey, you point out the one you want. The seller then takes the turkey and kills it. This method seems to be rather terrible, but the people say it is the only way of getting them fresh. You can also have the live turkey of your choice. Then you must tie a string to its leg, and lead it to your home. There you tie it up, until its fatal hour. On the evening we went to the park and stayed in the lovely wooded portion, until it was too dark. Then we walked home through a long palm-walk, tired but happy, after one day of Mexican life. Ruth Mallory, Form IIIa. [ 29 ]