Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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Has any gratliiate r]islingiiisl)0(] herself in any way? Oh, yes! (larine Maekay is a nienilx-r of llie Senate and llie iirlele tvvifih outran the boys competing in a recent ski meet. The Senate! — Ski meet! What are some of your scliool activities? We have a ' gym ih-ni ' every March — I beg— A gymnastic (lemonslratiou - and a field day in May! Do you have Prayers each morning? Yes, Sir; in the gym — nasiuni. So puzzled and shot Red did he look tliat 1 hastened to add, But we don ' t wear our shorts to Prayers — He inquired with dignity, Do you live in the vicinity of the school . ' ' 1 realize how far out in the country it is — But, Mr. Ross, Simpson Street is not in the country — Simpson Street! he cried in italics. Yes, Lord Strathcona donated the necessary money on the condition that tlie site of your choice be abandoned and one chosen within the limits of Montreal. So ' Chalderton Lodge ' , once the home of Sir George Sim[»son was chosen and has since been added to. But the site you chose, Mr . Ross, is now well within the city limits. I pass it every day on the street car. Street car? Yes, that is our means of transportation. But after the war we are going to use helicopters, I think. Please don ' t look so unhappy, Mr. Ross. Our school has advanced with the times but we still have old fashioned things like Bible Study and bad marks and discipline. And we think of you often and are grateful, Mr. Ross. Please let me say ' thank you ' ! I looked up to smile at him; but he had gone. The organ was now pealing triumphantly and a thousand little melodies rever- berated throughout the church. The sun poured joyously through Mr. Ross ' window and although I had the impression that somewhere in Heaven there were bells ringing in response to this burst of happiness around me, I felt a little sad. Jane Hildebrand, Vb., Ross House. THE WEATHER WE hear a great deal about the English climate these days when there are so many ( aiuidians in England and they all write home about the weather. They say that the countryside is beautifid and that they are having a good time but — the Weather. They com |) lain about the rain and the fog and they say they do not see any sun in the Winter. So I have been trying to compare the weather here with the weather at home. But my dilliculty is that while I have a good idea what the English climate is like, 1 am not yc?t sure thai I have cvt r seen a normal (lanadian day although I have been here two arul a half years. I l» I

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DONALD ROSS FROM the (lazzlinjz; brightness of a winter afternoon I entered the Church of Si. Andrew and St. Paul and felt the sacred hush of a sanctuary embrace me as the door closed. The organ was humming quietly, when I sat down and admired — . . the high embowed roof With antique pillars massy-proof And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light. Then 1 turned to examine the window on my right and discovered with a thrill of delight that it was dedicated to the memory of Mr. Donald Ross; I went over and stood before it. As I studied the inscription, someone behind me said, Why are you meditating so earnestly on this window, my child? Strangely, the voice did not startle me and it was with no fear that I turned to reply. Beside me stood a gentleman of the nineteenth century whose eyes smiled and twinkled as they watched me. I am from the Trafalgar School for Girls, I said. Is that connected in any way with the Trafalgar Institute? he asked eagerly. They are the same, I answered. The governors changed the name in 1934. Drumming his fingers on the side of the pew, he seemed lost in thought for awhile; then, he smiled. ... I see. Shall we sit down? . . . Tell me, please, what signifies the yellow pin on your tunic? It stands for ' Ross House ' , I told him proudly. It is so called in honour of our founder, Mr. Donald Ross. There are three other ' Houses ' — ' Barclay ' , ' Cumming ' and ' Fairley ' . ' Barclay ' is named for Dr. James Barclay who secured the financial aid of Donald Smith and thereby made possible, with the legacy of Miss Ann Scott and the bequest of Mr. Ross, the beginning of our school in 1887. Miss Fairley, from Edinburgh, was the first principal; and ' Cumming House ' is in honour of Miss Cumming, our past principal, who retired three years ago after twenty-three years ' service. And you are in ' Ross House ' ? Since this musing seemed more of a soliloquy than a question, I did not answer. Presently he asked wistfully, Have you a Chapel with an organ? That was my fondest dream — you see, I am Donald Ross — Please, be not afraid! But answer my questions; my time here is limited. I was not frightened. The church had grown dusky and the music sounded from far away. No, we have neither chapel nor organ — yet. I answered quietly. Disappointment showed in his face but he hastened to ask if our school motto were Spem successus alit as he had desired. Yes. Our dialogue was now rapid and concise. Realizing how much he wanted to find out in the short time allotted him, I had to condense my replies. [17]

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When we arrived in Canada it was Summer and the heat was terrific; we had never felt anything; like it hefore, hut we were tohl that it wouhl only be for a day or two. When it lasted for tliree or four weeks we heard that such a long spell was Exceptional . Tiien the Winter came; our friends told us that there were great blizzards and the pavements were piled so high with snow that you could not see over ihem. The first Winter seemed to us very mild and we were disappointed that there was not more snow. Again we were told that the Winter had been Exceptional . The next Summer was Exceptionally dry and there were many forest fires due to the dryness. This Winter has been very cold with lots of snow, and then they tell us that this is the worst Winter for forty years! Through all the year it seems that Exceptional weather continues — hot periods, cold, wet, dry until we are just longing to see a plain Canadian day, — if there is such a thing. On looking back, 1 remember some lovely holidays we spent in the country both in the Summer and the Winter — days when the sky would be blue and the air clear and we would walk or ski through the beautiful wooded trails passing perhaps a picturesque lake either frozen or deep blue. These might have been the typical Canadian days — but there was no one there to tell us. Denise Craig, Form IIIa., Ross House. THE SHEPHERD ' S PIPE 1 I saw a sky of cloudless blue, A grassy hill of joy, And ' midst the flowers of glorious hue. Amidst the sheep all wet with dew, I saw the shepherd boy. .3 1 say a wand because it made The mountain disappear, The sunny scene began to fade, I saw a coal-black Congo maid, A forest deep and drear. 5 I travelled, while the music sang. To covmtries west and east; Saw peaceful lands where church bells rang. Followed by China ' s mystic clang. And then the music ceased. 2 He sat upon a jutting rock, A crook was in his hand, But this he laid beside his flock, His pipe he took, he made it talk. And it became a wand. 4 The music changed and took me to A happy ballroom floor. The merry waltzers past me flew, Until the music wilder grew. And led me into war. 6 I saw again the cloudless blue. But on the grassy hill. The flowers wilted where they grew. The sheep were gone, the shepherd too, And all was deep and still. Barbara Brooics, Form Va, Fairley House. [19]