Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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THOUGHTS DURING AN ALGEBRA EXAM. The bell rings loudly. No more talk! And, trembling with fear, to our desks we walk. Have you your pens, girls? I won ' t ask again! Well, I think I have everything, minus a brain. Papers are given, I read mine with fear. Everything I don ' t know seems to be here. Settling down quietly, all start to write. Doesn ' t X = Y, or was X is B, right? On to the next question — consternation! Whoever called this a simple equation! I ' d studied square root till the breaking of dawn. Now here there are factors ! My chances are gone. Question two is a horrible problem, I see. How do you do these things? Oh, dearie me! Can ' t say X is a sheep or Y is a cow. But try as I will I can ' t think how You word it correctly. An hour has passed! Still four more questions until the last. On to the next one! Does A have X dollars? Time out to envy intelligent scholars. Oh, well, I ' m sure to get one at least right. But I ' d like to murder Messrs. Hall and Knight. Three more questions partially finished, And my hopes of passing have slowly diminished. Glance at my watch again; five minutes more. Must try again to get number four — There goes the bell ! Oh, well, trust to fate. At least I can say I could do number eight. Stagger to recess, and feel there ' s a plain Natural space where there once was a brain. Jean Sinnamon, Form IVb, Ross House. [23]

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The two men gave him their wraps and crossed the room to the fire. What a ride! commented a tall, well-built man, and his pleasant face was lit by a smile as he regarded his friend. Oh, what a rough road ! I ' ll be as stiff as a poker tomorrow. Never mind, Tom, it ' s always an experience. Huh , grunted the other man, obviously the younger of the two, but of a smaller build, with a long thin face and a habit of raising one eyebrow questioningly. In here, gentlemen. Their host ushered them into the adjoining room. When the door closed, Mr, Napier ' s cheerful expression changed to one of grave concern. Well, and how ' s my chief? The Prince hasn ' t been in such good spirits lately, I ' m afraid. The tall man known as Macpherson told his host. Ah dinna think it wull be lang until all this fighting is over. It was a sad day when he came to Scotland. Oh, I ' m not disloyal tae him, mind ye, but it was a hopeless job from the beginning. Ach, what will become of him, ah dinna ken. Then recollecting himself and his duties as host, he called his daughter to bring the punch, and in she came bearing a hot bowl of the steaming beverage. Ah, that ' s the stuff, lass, grinned young Tom, while she was all smiles and would have hung around longer had not her father nodded to her to leave. And so, went on Macpherson as he ate his dinner, the Prince had a green glass goblet, which he prized highly. It ' s very old, supposed to have been stolen from a church, long ago, and it bears a Latin inscription around the lip, which means ' Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid ' . This cup, or chalice, has been stolen and Prince Charles is at his wit ' s end. He thinks that he will lose ' the cause ' because it is gone. I don ' t know just how much there is to that, but the men got wind of it and quite a number refuse to fight until it is found. Things have come to a pretty pass, muttered Tom, Anyway, this cup seems to have cast a spell over him; he won ' t eat; he thinks that it will never be found, and he broods over all the lives lost on our side, — feels he ' s responsible. The Prince is a wiser man than when he came, Mr. Napier said solemnly from a corner. .j It is one week since the three gentlemen met and now Mr. Napier is standing before the fireplace beside Macpherson, who is holding a green glass goblet. Well, well, so ye found it at last. My, won ' t the Prince be glad to see you, now that things have been going poorly. Crash! The goblet fell to the floor as Mr. Napier accidently hit it with his elbow, when reaching for the clock. It was an hour after that, that the Battle of Culloden ended. EPILOGUE A broken cup, a broken cause, said Mr, Napier and he sighed as he rose from lli(- scllle. RosEMAijY Graham, Form IVa, Ross House, |22|

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SUSPENSE The clock ticked on witJi ominous sound; She heard outside a yowling hound; The end was drawing near. Her brow was wet; she held her breath; The room was quiet, quiet as death. Her hands were cold; her eyes did blur, She wished to move, but dared not stir. Then all at once, in a voice so thin. The dread call came, Please go right in; Your turn, the dentist ' s here . HE BALCONY of our house in Cairo was long — the whole length of seven rooms Jl of the apartment. On a cool morning in spring, I would stand on this balcony and look across at one famous historic place after another. To the north lies Heliopolis, the City of the Sun. This used to be an oasis in the desert, and was bought by a Belgian baron who built many beautiful houses, until today Heliopolis is a lovely city, with gardens, clubs, cinemas, and swimming pools. Forming a semi-circle around Cairo are the Mokkattam Hills which literally divide the desert from the sown . On one side is barren land with miles and miles of sand, and on the other, the River Nile. Sometimes the sand from the hills is blown into your house and gets into everything. A sandstorm is a dreadful thing. The Monastery, which I can see as well, is one of the little-known beauty spots of Cairo. To get to it you must go through the dirtiest and noisiest part of the city. Tram cars clang, little ragamuffins jump on your car, and old people get in your way and are nearly run over. There are donkey carts, with the drivers cursing and swearing, and games of football going on in the middle of the main street, while the klaxon of your own car is continually blowing. Then turning round a narrow corner, you see a garden hanging on the face of the Mokkattam Hills. You climb one hundred steps and come to a big wooden door. Your knock is answered almost immediately, because the monks have watched you coming up. Greetings, greetings, my ladies and gentlemen. The blessing of Allah be upon you. These are Albanian monks of the Moslem faith, but they are a celibate sect. This is unusual, as the Moslems do not believe in celibacy. Peace, unbelievable peace, reigns at this four hundred year old monastery. Everything is so quiet, you can hardly believe that you are near the noisiest part of Cairo. The monks speak Greek, Turkish, and Arabic. As they depend on charity for their living, we used always to take them a small hamper of provisions, as well as leaving a little gift on the old Bishop ' s table. The mosque of the monastery is very unusual. It is in a deep cave, which also serves as the burying place of the monks. One part of the monastery caves was used by Napoleon ' s army as a powder dump. Evidently an explosion look |)lace llien , forming a huge hole through which you get a most beautiful view of nearly all (]airo. [24]