Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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HOW TO SKI — IN ONE EASY LESSON STARTLED by the clang of my alarm clock, I jumped out of bed to turn the noisy thing off. I stood in the middle of the room wondering what day it was, and why I was up so early. The thought came to me, as I was swaying in the cold darkness of my room — I was going up north for the day. During the past week I had bought a book entitled How to Ski — In One Easy Lesson . The man at the store said it was guaranteed to teach the reader how to ski — if not, the money was refunded. All you had to do was read the book, practise the posi- tions in any room — called dry skiing I think — and you were ready for any hill in the Laurentians. Now I was going up North to Shawbridge to try my luck. I hastily donned my new red ski-sviit ( Irving ' s of course), washed down a piece of toast with some cocoa, grabbed my skiis and knapsack, and tore for the streetcar. I never realized that it was such an art to get skiis on a streetcar. I went in one side of the door and my skiis, somehow, got in the other side. I finally adjusted myself and sat primly at the back. I noticed two boys looking me up and down, and nudging each other with what I thought were signs of approval. Just then we rounded the corner at Claremont and my skiis went crashing to the floor, hitting the two boys on the way. Why do such things always happen to me? We arrived at Shawbridge and I was anxious to put on my new boards (the local name for skiis) and see if that book was really right. My skiis seemed to go in the right direction anyway. This was not my first time on skiis, you understand; I had tried them years ago but I had given up the sport as a bad job. I had heard that all tows went so fast that it was hard to concentrate on both your hands and feet going up. I grabbed the tow and hung on for dear life. I hardly moved at all. I decided to get out my book on How to Ski . . . and brush up on a few facts. The next thing I knew, I was at the top of the hill, lying with my face in the snow, and a pile of people and skiis on top of me. I stood up, regained my composure, and started down the hill for my great per- formance. I tried to turn, but nothing happened. I went faster and faster. I couldn ' t even fall. I seemed frozen into position — and what a position, as I heard some- body say. I headed for a clear space, but that space seemed to fill up with people as I neared it. I grabbed somebody in order to try and stop myself, but I kept on going. I saw the tow house coming nearer; then everything went black. The next thing I was aware of was being strapped on to a toboggan. I saw my new skiis broken into smithereens, and I saw a big piece of red cloth on the side of the tow house. I presumed it was part of my new ski-suit. I went down to the city in the baggage car. I was all ready to go from the station to the store and get my money back on that book, but I was put in an ambulance and spent a few delightful months with both legs in the air. Margaret Patterson, Form VI Arts, Gumming House. [22]

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Two reat blue herons built themselves a nest in the topmost limbs of a fir tree near the home of the lirev owl. For weeks the owl had contented himself with killing; weasels, rabbits, miee, and small birds, but as the days passed, his longin-i for a young; heron grew more and more intense. The heron and his mate were the only creatures whom the sw ift, iirev owl had not terrorized, and so one day he circled slowly from his perch on a dead pine and winged iiis way toward the heron ' s nest. Never having been vanquished and not knowing the meaning of fear, the grey owl boldlv attacked the heron ' s mate. After a futile attenipt to defend both herself and her voung, she gave up her battle for sur i al and hung dead from the talons of her foe. ith his great wings beating furiously, the ow l released the weight of the dead heron, but turned too late to meet the swift blue rocket from above. His small eyes blind with anger, the blue heron thrust bis strong, slender beak deep into the neck of the grev owl. The great bird fell dead at the side of his last conquest; the forest was free from the grey, merciless intruder. Anne Pattisox, Form IVa, Ross House. THE BATTLE OF MARATHON The Battle of Marathon — a tale so old. And yet so much that can be told Of valour, courage, and brave men — A task too great for any pen. The Persians came from o ' er the sea With army good in each degree And landed proudly on the shore. Assured that victorv w as in store. Athenians warned, were waiting near To fight for freedom. Bow and spear Were used with strategy and might; The order of the day was fight. And fight they did though one to ten. They pushed astonished tired men Back to their ships. The battle o ' er, Their land was saved to them once more. Ann McDougall, Form IVa, Barclay House. [21]

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AUTUMN I otten s ijih to walk, tliroiigli woods of leaves And see tliein sparkle in the sun ' s bright rays, Tlie jjolden colours of the autumn sheaves Whose shades seem nearly clear as yesterday ' s. 1 used to think that those untouched by rake (.oncealed a fairy hidden from my view. And as I walked. I feared that I should wake Them, from their airy beds of morninj: dew. Although I should not see them, I should hear Their joyous, happy presence ever near. Their souls seemed so exquisite yet so real. iow while 1 think of them, 1 shed a tear For all both voiniij and old, who ' ve never seen Within an autumn leaf a fairy queen. (.ATHAKINE ( .HADWiCK. Korm A. Cummiug Hou.se. ON GOING TO THE THEATRE 1 THINK there is nothing so lovely as the feeling of going to see a play. If it is a week night, there is the delightful rush of getting homework done and then of dressing for the performance before dinner. If the play is Shakespeare, a copy of Lamb ' s Tales accompanies the roast beef : if it is a modern play, we just discuss it. On the street-car we meet various friends and relations, also bound His Majesty- wards. If the company is old, the parents talk of when they saw so-and-so in such-and- such a play in by-gone days. We leave the tram and go into the theatre. How I love the atmosphere: people outside talking and meeting friends, the crowded lobby, and having to elbow my way in, and then being led to my seat and reading the program which I alreadv know bv heart. [231