Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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BRIDGES Cities that we have buih, you crown your harbours With flying steel, a heaven sweeping span — Bridges that gods might build to some Valhalla Beyond the life of man. City that built us, your dark surge of water Swirls close around stone arches, old and low; Your crown of circling wings sweeps high and watches The whole world come and go. THE AMERICAN LEGEND You have trumpeted your hustle from New England to the Old; You have advertised efficiency, your trade-mark Time is Gold ; All across the skies of Europe you have trailed flamboyant smoke And branded your progenitor a slow, unworldly moke. You admit that you are carnal — this world ' s treasure is your aim. Education is no object but a means to win the game. Rather proudly you inform us that your hands are slightly soiled. That you may wear a tuxedo, but are certainly hard-boiled! So the trusting European stands on Broadway, mystified. For without a moment ' s flurry he has crossed from side to side. And the people on the Avenue — are they all tourists too? They ' d surely walk much faster if they ' d any work to do. As he travels through the country every station concourse shows That it has to be palatial — for the people wait, in rows. And those busy, curt officials? he is quite relieved to find Them as helpful (and as chatty) as the ones he left behind. So in time he ' s crossed the continent, and, seated at the Bowl, Sees a further efflorescence of repressed romantic soul — For, admitting that plutocracy is trying to the eyes. You create new Stars in clusters to redecorate the skies. [29]

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the generous contributions that we received. Those whose contributions are not printed, we ask to forgive us, and encourage them to try again. We congratulate the budding artists, poets, and authors for their work. We congratulate you all on your efforts — and hope you like the Mag . PREFECTS Head Prefect: Faith Lyman Jane Seely Janet Slack Marie Reiser Hester Williams Valerie Ker Alison Smart Peggy Tyndale Jean Taylor Margery Simpson THE GRIER CUP THE Grier Cup is given annually to the Senior Girl who has maintained the highest standard of conduct and shown the greatest dievotion to her work, and the best public spirit. In 1936 it was awarded to Jean Scrimger. [28]

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You are fond of freakish stories, quite entranced by outward show. Firm believers in a future for the muddled world we know, You indulge ideals and sentiment, the passing whim and fad. But — like any healthy youngster — you believe you ' re bold and bad. Such unabashed hypocrisy! It surely would be wise To face the facts and cultivate truth when you advertise? If the goods aren ' t up to sample you ' ll have trouble soon or late You are hampered by tradition — Bring your posters up to date! Irene M. Scott, Second Form Mistress. THE AVENGERS Prize Story MADAME sat alone in her salon, her long, bony, amazingly claw-like fingers clasped tightly in her lap. Madame was a startling woman, her eyes, the most striking feature of her face, were an unusual green, wide open, almost as if in fear. Her face was white, corpse-like, and from it her staring eyes gleamed as those of a hunted animal. She sat quite stiff and upright in her chair, occasionally turning and passing her hand uncertainly over the outline of an unyielding yellow wax tulip. Her never changing glance was fixed on a large bronze door. Madame was blind, quite blind. The door opened and was closed again softly. Madame arose quickly and spoke, Monsieur de Devre, he has come, Valois? He has come, Madame. Valois ' voice was curiously soft and childlike. Madame spoke again, The eleven await? They await, Madame. Madame nodded, You will take Monsieur de Devre to the council chamber. Valois bowed, unnecessarily, and closed the door softly behind him. Madame, her sightless eyes gleaming, crossed the room, opened a narrow ivory door and passed through. The door led to the council chamber. As Madame entered, twelve men, seated at a table, rose. Madame bowed slightly, crossed to the remaining vacant chair, and sat down, her staring eyes wide open. Eleven men seated themvelves. The twelfth. Monsieur de Devre, remained standing, his handsome face set, his hands gripping his chair under the strain. Madame spoke, almost casually, but with a world of hate behind her voice, You, Alexandre de Devre are a wise man. Twice before you ignored my command to be present at the meeting of the Organization of the Yellow Tulip, perhap you now realize that it is futile to disregard the commands of the society . Madame ' s voice rose in excitement. Alexandre de Devre, four years ago, in the Cafe de la Main Blanche in Paris, you pledged yourself to the service of the Yellow Tulip. You must fulfil your oath. The sole purpose of the society, you must understand, my young friend, is to crush, to [30]