Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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MONTREAL - 2000 A.D. As the small jet plane touched the ground at Dorval, the family stepped down the gangway into the broiling Canadian sunshine. Behind them the pilot carried their bagg age — trunks, suit-cases and water-skis. It was New Year ' s Eve in Montreal, and they had left the biting cold of Florida for Canada ' s warm sun. All around, jet specials were carrying ski enthusiasts to the great championship races in the southern states. The family crossed the air-port to the new subway. Montreal ' s first, and its pride and joy, completed after five years of construction. They reached their destination and gazed from their hotel window at Sherbrooke Street, lined with palm trees. The next day included a tour of the city by helicopter. One of the relics on the outskirts of town was an old street-car that had finally been retired ten years before. On it was an inscription, The last of its race to resist the force of Gordie Moore ' s cartoons. The father had been in Montreal about sixty years before, and had many a tall tale of the city in the good old days — the days when the snow-blowers kept the [topiilatiori awake at night and people crammed like sardines into (Continued on page 2H)

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MONTREAL -1900 NEW YEAR ' S EVE THE train grinds to a stop, and the weary passengers alight, glad to be out of the cold, uncomfortable coaches. It is a long walk through the deep snow, and as they pass the wheezing engine with its oversized smokestack, the dim half light of the street lamps shows the entrance to Windsor Station. Almost stumbling, many of them hindered by luggage, the small, almost forlorn looking, group makes its way into the station, and reveals itself: the women wearing long, high waisted, full skirts, many of them having trains, and rather fussy hats, the men clad in formal costume — tails, very tight trousers and silk hats . They file through the station, practically empty except for the usual loafers, and out into the cold stormy night once more. The long line of horse- drawn sleighs presents a picturesque sight waiting in the falling snow, the patient horses flicking their tails, and the coachmen seated high upon the boxes in their fur rugs, sending clouds of breath up into the night. Beyond this, a new landmark, St. George ' s Church, and then nothing . . . but snow, and the lights of the Windsor Hotel twinkling in the distance. A cold biting wind sweeps across from deserted Dominion Square, a merciless wind ( Continued on page 27) [22]

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TRAFALGAR ' S LAST STAND OR ON THE SUDDEN EXTENSION OF McGREGOR STREET (with apologies to Kenneth Graham) The Road — came — through ! There was bedlam in the classrooms, and a howling on the stairs. There were caving, crumbling corridors, — and mice rushed out in pairs, When the Road — came — through! When the Road — came — through ! All the people scattered madly, through the doors (and windows, too!) There was clattering of cut ' .ery: of whole objects there were few When the Road — came — through ! As the Road — came — througli ! All the shifty, sneering workmen were hilarious with glee, Loudly chopping, madly blasting, and whistling joyously, When the Road — came — through! While the Road — came — through! There were rumblings and tumblings; a sonorous clanging soiuid, There were whistlings and squeakings; great chuggings all around, When the Road — came — through! Crash, go the walls! Former occupants are a-fluster, as renowned Trafalgar plaster Meets the ground, protesting loudly, while the workmen gaze so proudly At the Road — come — through! Jan Torrance, Form Vb, Fairley House. IN THE FOREST WHEN I first saw the forest, I could scarcely believe that such peace and tranquillity could exist on such a hot and humid day. The air was cool and clear, and had that fragrance which always marks abundant growth of living things. The foliage overhead was so thick that the burning sun which had so heated the rest of the world was denied entrance. Even at that the sun, stubborn- ly refusing to recognize nature ' s protection, broke through in places, as golden shafts of light. The trees were of a dark and pleasing green, unspoiled by the dust and smoke of the city. The ground was covered with an amazing variety of wild flowers, and the soil was of that rich brown which always speaks of fertility. If you took the trouble to advance farther into this forest, and indeed it would be hard not to, you would presently hear the bubbling of a brook. As [24]