Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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SWALLOW TAIL ROCK THE humidity of the dull day had disheartened me, and as I entered the massive doors of the Art Gallery, I seemed to he svirrounded hy throngs of people viewing with admiration various artistic masterpieces. I attempted to gain their enthusiasm, but the pictures were merely dabs of paint, until I was confronted by Cameron ' s Swallow Tail Rock . The scene contained therein struck a familiar note in my memory, and brought me pangs of homesickness. What a dear remembrance it brought to my mind! I could see it clearly: that rock at the entrance of the Bellamar Caves in Matanzas, Cuba; a place which has always attracted thousands of people, since it was discovered and the four-mile caves were explored. People continually admire the perfect and yet natural forms to which the waters of the Yumuri River have transformed after hundreds, perhaps millions of years, these rocks which rise up on the right side of Matanzas Bay. The painting reminded me of the entrance to this marvellous place, with its magnificent stalactites and stalagmites hanging down from the ceiling and rising up from the bottom of the caves. The picture was no longer still, dead — it was now full of life. I could hear the murmur of the waves peacefully advancing to touch the very low end of the rock. I could see the movement of the white crests, up and down again, con- trasting magnificently with the dark brown stone. I began to remember, then, the legend of the caves, beautiful and yet sad, but above all true, although strange. It was the story of a beauitifui girl, a princess, as it is believed, who bathed every night, in this secret concealed place, under the eternal supervision of the moon and the stars. One day, it seemed that a horrible Beelzebub ' discovered her sacred place, and, without being noticed, he watched the beautiful white girl every night. [20]

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As the horses trotteil along, 1 listeneil ith joy to the sound ot their hoofs. When we reaehed the top of the mountain, the horses slowed into a walk. We stopped for a minute and looked far below us to the busy city. In the distance lav the St. Lawrence, parts of which were still frozen, and, where the sky seemed to touch the earth, we conld see the distant mountains. As it was a clear day, we were able to see for miles around. I pattetl n horse, ia e her a slight kick, and we were oil on the road that winds around the top of the mountain. I had walked along this road many times before, and I had always hoped that stune day I might ride along it. Now my dream was fulfilled. 1 pinched myself: it was almost too good to be true. Heels down , called the riding master. I had been so busy looking around that I had forgotten about my heels. Quickly I pressed them down. I smiled. I was happy; very, very happy. Bakbara Magor, Form IVb, Ross House. THE MOON OVER THE WOODS The yellow moon rose above the wood. And lighted a bank where a rabbit stood, A jay-bird screeched and flew away. Most noises ceased — ' twas no longer day. Creatures scurried here and there To find their homes, and in the air A hoot-owl silenth flew aroiuid, Searching for wood-mice on the ground. A fox padded swiftly into the night. Small animals ran with all their might To escape the revealing light of the moon. And to hide in the forest ' s shadowv gloom. For this was the time to hide away From the fox or the hawk who seek their prev. hen the moon is shining in the sky. Then these hunters go stealthily creeping by, But when the moon has gone away, And its place is taken by signs of day. The woodland creatures rise with glee, Knowing till sunset they ' ll be free To do as they wish, the whole day through As long as they ' re careful — and cautious too. The jay-birds screech and screech all day. And the chipmunks and rabbits come out to play. And all is well, till bye and by hen the moon is shining in the sky. ]ais Torrance, Form His, Fairley House. [19]

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The desire of possession grew stronger in liini as time enl on. and one night he eauglit the delicate Madeline in his hnge arms, tryiiig to lake her ont of the water. Madeline slipped from him and attempted to advance further ont in the sea. She sneeeeiled in getting him far away from the shore, hnt at the same time she sas foreeil along with him. For several minutes she fought to free herself, but it was in ain. Madeline could no longer resist his strength, and slowly hegan to drown in the deptlis of the sea. Beelzehuh , thinking it was a trick, ditl not pay much attention to her: he tried to gain the shore, convinced that, in the end. when she could no longer stay in the water, she would have to do the same thing. A few minutes had passeil since he reached the shore, and still there was no sign of the beautiful Madeline. Fearing that she might escape, helped by the night shadows, he walked up to the top of the high Swallow Tail Rock, from where he was able to watch everv movement of the peaceful waves which would iiide the desirable girl. He vaited ami Nsaited for what ?eenu ' d to him hours, and finally an idea of what had really happened came to his mind, striking it so harshly as to make him lose control of his senses and fall from the high rock into the sea, dying instantly. All those thoughts came clearly into my mind as I iewed the picture. I could not take nn eyes away from it. Everything had seemed so real! When an old man. touching my shoidder. gently asked me to leave, I realized I had been left alone. The night had brought its shadows, and as I went out of the heavv doors, a feeling of calm, and a sweet sensation of quietness had overcome me. I was convinced that Cameron had painted this picture inspired by the Swallow Tail Rock of Bellamar Caves. Leticia Artola. Form Science VI, Fairley House. WF RE MOVING Cartons here and cartons there: Trimks and boxes everywhere: Furniture is piled up high : Things on top of this do lie: We ' re moving. The house takes on a different air: The rooms and halls look very bare; Each rug is stripped from every floor: The little house is ours no more: We ' re moving. Our house holds mem ' ries of the years. Of greatest joy, of saddest tears. et, now we leave it here alone For someone else to call his own: We ' re moving. To our wee house I give a toast, For it has been my proudest boast. An empty spot is in my heart. For now from here we must depart: We ' re moving. Our new house soon will fill that spot. It, too, I really love a lot. I know that now I shan ' t be sad, 1 ' or in my heart I ' m very glad We ' re moving. Anne Berry, Form IVb, Ross House. [211