Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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Without a word he strode right in, sat down and began devouring the meat. He kept away from the fire, though, and never spoke a word. I noticed all at once, the wind outside could not be heard. And strangely, the snow and ice remained on my visitor ' s clothes, and hands, and feet. Curious and puzzled, I paced the floor, then went and looked out though the window-pane. What I beheld made me rush to the door to see if it were true. After a suspicious glance at the stranger, outside I flew. To be sure, not a vestige of snow or a sign of the stormy winter did there remain. A clear moon shone down on snow-free trees, sleeping (lowers and sweet-smelling grass. Brown owls hooted lazily, drowsy birds twittered and chirped the end of the day. The night-breeze was warm. A chipmunk, startled, ciiattering, ran away. Fireflies sparkled, an animal swiftly and silently in front of the steps did pass. Wondering, astounded, I picked a handful of grass and flowers, then went in; Straight to the man I marched, my feelings holding full sway. What do you mean by coming here? Speak vip, I say! Explain your behaviour, sir, why do you devour my supper, and drink all my gni . ' ' The strange man smiled a secret smile of satisfaction, then arose; He smiled again, and said in a mumbling voice, Many thanks for the meal, I hope to continue my duties now that I ' ve eaten. I feel Much better! Then he went to the door. An icicle fell suddenly ofl his nose. He stretched, he yawned, he stepped outside, and was immediately lost in snow. Down came the flakes, the fir trees cracked, the ground became white again. I closech the door and went slowly inside; the north wind began to blow. Thinking tliat surely it was a dream, I laughed my remaining fears away. I wonder if that was King Winter, I thought, then my fears began anew: There on the chair was the ale, the fresh grass I had picked, and the (lowers too. The half-eaten meal was where he had left it; and on the floor the icicle lay! The north wind howled, the snowflakes swirled in the solid blackness of the night. The snowdrifts piled outside the cabin, and the fir trees moaned; The windows sparkled with frost and ice; the cabin groaned. And I sat mystified, before the dying firelight. Jan Torrancp:, Form IVb, Fairley House. SPRING IN THE COUNTRY In the Spring when trees are budding. In the country I would be. In the woodland ' s sun and shadow Where the stream runs merrily. Pussy willows by the wayside, Underfoot the violets blue, All the air is full of bird-song Ringing notes so clear and true. As the daylight slowly passes. And the simset paints the west With its rose and gold and azure. Then all nature seems to rest. Purple shadows on the mountain. Silver crescent in the sky. One by one the stars come peeping, Soft winds sing a lullaby. Anne Carman, Form IVa, Ross House. [20]

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Tliese people are slim and beautiful, (rail and yet strong, because of God ' s gift of freedom. Tliey do not know bow to work, but tbey are ricb and do not need to — or tbey are so poor tbat tbey bave no clotbes, tbey use newspapers and leaves to bide tbeir bony ugliness. Tbey are old and bideous, deformed and beginning to deteriorate. Tbeir bomes are sbacks witb no walls, built bigh above tbe untainted Svbite ' section; tbey do not belong to tbe tourist ' s idea of beauty except in tbe sense tbat so mucb ugliness creates beauty, for instance, tlie beauty of tlie billside at nigbt. Tlie trees are splashy greens; tbere is jungle and a weird beauty that baiuits forever tbe eyes of the onlooker. Tbe roads are red, tbe sky, an un- clouded blue. Tbe people are dressed in colours tbat clash so strongly tbat tbey blend together into a harmonious rainbow. This helps to explain tbe tempera- ment of tbe people, who crave loud colours and music so strongl) tbat though it hurts tbe unaccustomed ears and eyes, it is beauty to them, and because of them, to us. Tbeir voices are harsh and crvide; they babble forth an endless stream of sharp sounds. Tbe nerves of tbe eyes are shocked and grated by tbe brightness and splendour of the sun against the world. Tbere is a magic mountain of Corcovado, and in tbe jungle on its summit stands the statue of Christ, a Christ who stretches forth his hands to bless all men who enter tbe harbour of Rio. At nigbt the Christ radiates a warm glow ibat can be seen from all directions, and as tbe plane rises from tbe airport, tbe statue waves a friendly good-bye, assuring the leaver tbat whenever he returns be will be welcome to take his place in a world of sbowy splendour. Reni Roberts, Form Arts VI. Fairley House. THE VISITOR The iiortb wind bowled, tbe snowflakes swirled in the solid blackness of the nigbt; Tlie snowdrifts piled outside tbe cabin, and the fir trees moaned; Tbe windows sparkled and glistened witli frost and ice; the cabin groaned. And I sat comfortably inside before the crackling firelight. A ()Ot of venison 1 placed before me. a mug of ale was on tbe floor; J [)repared to eat my supper, warm beside tlie fire, X atcbing tlic flames shoot uj) tbe chimney, slowly mounting biglicr, ben quite suddenly T heard a knock upon tbe cabin door I I opened it, and looking out, bebeld a man witb cold blue eves, White, snowy, sparkling robes, an icy beard, and long white hair, Icicles riangling on bis ears and nose; bis hands and feet were bare! His .skin was covered witb ice I He towered above me and was of great size.

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FLIGHT MAN is forever searching for an escape. His tortured and confused mind is obsessed with the desperate dreams of fliglit from this world of illusions and bitter strife. He must find a place of solitude, a haven for his soul, a land of the heart where he may possess that most blessed of benefits — peace of mind. He travels through the world of existence, constantly searching for, beseeching a gate wliich will lead him to Life and Truth. In the midst of his search, with his disturbed mind whirling in the empty spaces of incomprehension, he perceives the warm glow of a fellow soul reaching through his labyrinth of discouragement and disillusionment, ready to draw iiim from out himself and into the world of day. Hesitantly, he advances, and, a little fearful, steps for a few brief seconds into the light. Glancing about him, he perceives visions of distorted reality, and hears the clashing sounds of discordant music. Everything beautiful appears to be deformed and ugly; all that had been serene and dependable is mocked and made ludicrous by burlesque. Turning to look at the friend who had drawn him into this land, he saw before him only a twisted desiccated shell of what had once been a man. His clawlike hands still clung to his wrists, and it was with a tremendous effort that he was eventually able to free himself from the deathlike grasp. Whither was he to travel now? The strangling blackness of confusion and incomprehension is once more upon him and the heaviness of it weighs upon his desperate soul even more painfully than it had previous to the short sojourn in the land of false light. Surrounding him on all sides were limitless cliffs, towering to eternity, and here at the foot of the crags he stood, meeting defeat wherever he turned. Yet beyond those peaks lay the land of escape, he felt sure. To reach it, to leave this dungeon of drudgery and futility was his sole dream now — it obsessed his very being and his frame was wracked with the over- powering desire. As days went on, his mind grew dry, his thinking narrow and his heart unresponsive to any requests of entry. His twisted soul was never allowed to gain rest — that sweet rest which is the only salve man can be assured of receiving. Something must occur to redirect this misled creature. He had no God now, for what was God but an illusion, as was every other beautiful thing in this detestable universe. Let other men have their God — the fools! He awoke to find himself lying on the firm warm earth. He lay in the shadow of a garden wall, and, protecting him from the eyes of any observers, were the arms of a hedge which pressed close against the inside of the wall. Unwillingly he opened his eyes to view the light wliich he felt caress his closed eyelids. Distrustfully he glanced about expecting to behold the same scene of depravation he had when last he came into a land of comprehension . But that whicli met his gaze was so serenely beautiful that he could but breathe his awe. A liitlierto unknown sense of peace crept through his limbs and body, filling his heart with a quiet happiness that he thought he had cast aside long ago with his cloak of idealism. The garden was so wonderfully lovely that when he spied the weeds entangled round the stem of the flower it came as a great surprise to him. Noticing the entry of a gardener through the gate in the wall, he wished to cry out to liini to destroy those weeds, for the glorious petals of the flower would .soon be torn were the pitiless thorns to reach tliem. Yet his lips could not move, |21|