Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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RICHARD ' S BED T J Ml: SNACK With apologies to A. A. Milne who wrote, The king ' s Breakfast. Richard asked His mother and His mother asked The kitchen maid: Could we have some honey for Richard ' s slice of hread? His mother asked The kitchen maid, The kitchen maid Said, Yes ma ' am, I ' ll go and ask The cook Now Before she goes to hed. The kitchen maid She curtsied, And went and asked The sleepy cook: Is there any honey for Richard ' s slice of bread? The cook said: It ' s rationed now; You ' d better tell The mistress That little boys nowadays Like apples Instead. The kitchen maid Said, Fancy! And went to Her mistress She curtsied to his mother, and She turned a little red: Pardon me, My lady, You know that There ' s a war on And apples are healthier Before He goes To bed. His mother said: Oh! And went in To Richard : ' Talking of your honey now And your piece of bread, Little boys Think that Apples now Are nicer. Would you like to try a little Apple then Instead? Then Richard said, Boo-hoo! And then he said, Oh, deary me! Again he sobbed, oh dear y me And lay down in bed. Nobody, He whimpered, Could call me A naughty boy; I only want A little bit Of honey and Some bread ! His mother said, Listen Son, We must think Of others now. Our soldiers And sailors Simply must be fed. The boy said, Mommy, Dear! I really don ' t need Anything Give my apple to the sailors Or soldier boys instead. Nancy Cliff, Form Va., Fairley House. THAI U, ECHOES 1944

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What was that she saw in front of her? — a ditch! Surely they weren ' t going to cross that! Apparently they were, and on a measly little hoard too! She decided that that was too much, and crawled awkwardly down one side and up the other. She apologized profusely for having kept them waiting. Now they came to the hill. She was going to show them how to ski. She started climbing — it looked easy enough, but — ouch ! another mouthful of that beastly snow ! Up and at it again ! Well, they couldn ' t expect any reasonable human being to be able to climb anything as slippery as this stuff! She watched the way they herring- boned up the hill and tried to do the same and — down again! She was getting a little tired of struggling to her feet. She looked down — they had come very high up; she wondered if she would have the courage to go down. At last — the others had stopped. Somebody went down — what was she worrying about? — it was easy! Then it was her turn. Did she say she was going to show them how to ski? Evoking a prayer to that god peculiar to skiers, she closed her eyes and gave a gentle shove. Oh dear, the snow was bumpy! How did people stay on their feet? It was much faster than she expected — fifty miles an hour at least, she thought. She began to wonder how they did those funny turns. Well, this time she would go straight — plenty of time to try them next time. Oops! What was that? She went flying and took a header into the snow; she wondered vaguely why she ' d done that — wasn ' t she meant to be showing them how to ski? They asked her how she enjoyed it. In a tired voice she said she loved it, but of course she was just a beginner. (She would show them what she could do next time!) Denys Clarke, Form Vb., Fairley House. A FRAGMENT November ' s days are numbered twenty-nine When from the heavens an icy filigree Descends, and nestles softly on the ground. Soon others come to join the braver one And gently float to earth in listless swirls, As if still drowsy from so long a sleep. Then soundlessly the flakes drop down, until The last lone crystal cleaves the quivering air, And slowly sinks to rest. The world is still, Clothed in a velvet hood of silence rare. A pause, and then the flowing tide of night Creeps from the hollows and engulfs the land. It slips along the hilltops; then the sky Is shadowed with the onward-surging wave, Which sweeps across the heaven from east to west. But angels keep their vigil day and night, And through the blue they watch with starlike eyes The slumbering earth. And then the great church-bell Sends sounds of curfew winging through the skies, As Peace enfolds the world within her wings. Doreen Harvey, Form VIa., Ross House. TRAFALGAR ECHOES 1944 25

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A VISION OF PEACE I see a land where bluebells grow, And star-eyed daisies, bending low To meet the clover-grass, Nod gently in the breeze. And here is heard no thund ' rous roar Of aeroplanes. No noise of war Comes to disturb the songs Of birds among the trees. Down in the valley a river flows, A silvern stream, which ever grows And ripples o ' er the rocks, As it runs to join the sea. A sea where stately liners glide. Their gleaming white the ocean ' s pride. Bright lights pierce the darkness, And laughter fills the air. This is no land of dreams, my friend, Nor is it a goal at the rainbow ' s end. Do you not know the place, Or have you forgotten, too? This is our world as it used to b3 In days long past, when man w( re free To live, to love, to pray. This is a world at Peace. Marylyn Rutley, Form Vb., Barclay House. TRAFALGAR ECHOES 1944