Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

 - Class of 1949

Page 28 of 100

 

Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 28 of 100
Page 28 of 100



Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada) online collection, 1949 Edition, Page 27
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each time he got well, and went through the hattles of Marne, Chateau Thierry and the Argonne. As a result of his hravery and devotion to duty, Stubby received several medals and many gifts. He was called the hero of the A.E.F. He took part in parades; he had his picture taken with General Pershing; he shook hands with thousands of people, including President Wilson. After the Armistice, Stubby came home with Corporal Robert Conroy. He lived eight years longer, and when he died his body was mounted and given to the Smithsonian Institution in Washington where it may be seen today. Elizabeth Friesen, Form IHb, Fairley House. SOMETIMES Sometimes, away down deep We wish for things, to keep Our minds and hearts, our dreams Alive and glowing, so it seems. Sometimes, when life stands gray. As morning skies at break of day. We turn our searching words and pray For things so little, day by day. But sometimes it ' ll be for keeps; Big things, when each soul seeks Its creator in a loving prayer — Always, He will be there. Mary Asselin, Form Arts VI, Barclay House. BEYOND THE HORIZON A BLACK stallion galloped through the night towards Crag ' s Cliff, a town in the Rockies. Its rider urged the beautiful beast on. He had to reach Ken before it was too late. The horse ' s limbs were aching from galloping for miles through mountain passes, but it would not give in. The rider ' s lips were pressed tightly together; his dark eyes peered through the darkness. He was worried, very worried. The horse stumbled and fell to the ground. The rider was thrown upon the road, where he lay as if dead. The horse whinnied, and this sound aroused its master, Allan White. Al limped over to his horse; the poor animal had [26]

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about five cents as none of the farmers wants them. These farmers are interested onlv in farm implements and animals, and no doubt regard my friends and me as excellent examples of the daftness of modern youth. We, in turn, never cease to be both amused and amazed at the antics of some of these farmers. One day, a man bought a large barrel of lime which immediately split down the side. Instead of saving his lime, which the wind svas blowing away, the farmer stood shouting dire threats and demanding his quarter back. To the onlookers, the sight of an irate farmer hvigging a large barrel of lime was quite amusing, and served to send the assembled company into loud guffaws at their neighbour ' s plight. Another amusing character is a little man who comes to every auction, not to buy, but for the sheer joy of being there. He bids a half cent and is very much annoyed when the auctioneer disregards him. For these occasions, he has 1 vocabulary of choice words with which he bombards the auctioneer. Luckily, my vocabulary is not equal to his, for his face and actions take on a truly ferocious cast when some jokers suggest that he might try bidding a whole cent. Attending farm auctions, as well as being amusing, has a purpose. Old pine tables, chairs, cabinets, and chests may be bought for very little. These are covered with layers and layers of homemade paint, but, when this is removed and the object rubbed down with sandpaper, and waxed, a very graceful piece of furniture is acquired. Our dining-room is completely furnished in old pine for which a dealer in Montreal would charge about four hundred dollars. Spinning wheels, hand-woven rugs, old balances, and many other such articles are among the objects which my friends and I buy at auction sales. Among the local farmers, we have the repvitation of being slightly mad, especially since the day last summer when we were seen driving home in an old horse-drawn buggy with our bicycles and a carved pine bed loaded on behind. However, be that as it may, I cannot think of a cheaper or more delightful way of having an afternoon of good, clean fun, devoid of the super- fluous frills of city life. Anne Pattison, Form Science VI, Ross House. A DOG HERO TflK most famous veteran of 1918 was a mascot, a friendly little bull-terrier named Stubby. He never joined up in the regular way. He never went to a K-9 camp for basic training, as did all other dogs. Stubby went to Yale — that is, he had the run of the Yale University campus. He seemed to belong to no one, but he was the favourite of everyone. Stubby liked to watch the students training on Yale Field, and when orders came for them to go to camp, they took the little brindled bull-terrier, ,sith the friendly bobbed tail, along in the supply car. Later they smuggled liim on board the big transport that carried them across the Atlantic. Once when his friends were sleeping, he saved their lives by warning them of a gas attack. He warned his friends again when he found a strange man near the Ani ri( an trenches. When the stranger was caught he proved to be a German spy. Twice Stubby had to go to an army hospital — once when he was gassed, and again when he was wounded by a splinter from a German grenade. But



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causht its hoof in a bear trap, and was in great pain. He patted its head, and after assuring it tliat he would be back with help soon, he started down the hill towards the town. Oag ' s C.liff was wild: the miners had returned and they were celebrating in the manv taverns. Al hurried through the streets to an old rooming house. He dashed up the stairs and ran along a dark hall to a small door at the end of it. His heart was beating madly. What if He turned the handle; the door vas locked. In a fury he threw lumseif upon it, again and again, and at last it fell. Al stood like a ghost at the door. He was too late. Ken was dead. He crossed the room and knelt beside his brother and opened his jacket. Just as he had feared, the money was gone. Ken and Al had come to Crag ' s Cliff two years ago, and during that time they had worked hard and earned a large sum of money. Now Ken was dead and the money was gone. We meet again, Allan. Al turned around to face a gun held by a sinister man, wearing dark glasses. You killed him, Pet e, you killed him! shouted Al. Of course I did, replied the murderer. But you can ' t prove it, and if you don ' t leave Crag ' s Cliff today I ' ll kill you. Al wanted to jump upon his enemy, but he knew that he didn ' t have a chance. You will pay for this, Pete, he murmured. A shot rang through the air. Al fell, and his murderer jumped out of the window to the street below, and disappeared into the night. Several months later, a prisoner in the town jail saw a man walking down the main street in Crag ' s Cliff; the man was leading a black stallion. The prisoner watched the man and his horse leave town and start out on their journey. At the top of a hill just outside the town, they stopped and looked down at Crag ' s Cliff. The town held many unpleasant memories for Al and his horse, and they turned their heads in the opposite direction. Ahead of them was the horizon, and beyond the horizon was a kingdom of beauty. They were entering a world of joy and a land of great happiness. The prisoner saw someone running to meet Al and his horse; it was Ken. The brothers and the stallion disappeared beyond the horizon. The prisoner could see them no longer; he took off his dark glasses, and waited for the guard to come. Barbara Magor, Form Vb, Ross House. A SUMMER EVENING Dl Sk is settling down over the clear, humid day that has just passed, bringing with it all the mysteries of the night. Everything is still and quiet. Occasionally this stillness is broken by the gentle evening breezes rustling through the tall, dry grass. The sunset touches ihe earth with her pale, delicately coloured fingers, adding strange hues and ■iliadows to the countryside. I lif lake has lost its daytime ' s brilliant blue, and the setting sun seems ti) iiiiiid ;i -liinimering bridge over the water. As the svm sinks lower in the v -l. llii lake graduallv turns to a greyish colour. The mountains on the (jppo-itf -.liorf! lend a dark contrast to the pale lake. [27]

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