Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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remember Gloria Castro? She decided not to finish Form IIIa and is teaching chemistry at McGill. Katama Bonthrou and Caryl Churchill have opened a model school, and have turned out many glamorous pupils. Lately there has been much talk about Janet Bryce. She has invented a new plane which goes faster than a jet. Gail Fitzpatrick has taken up painting and has just finished her version of the Eiffel Tower. Carole Cayford, Form IIIa, Cumming House. VILLAGE LIGHTS OVER A LAKE Twinkling. Clear as a bell. Glassy. Dark is the night. An ebony that cannot tell The things that lie beneath, ) Sealed up so tight. Protected by the twinkling cover Of lanterns that hide the underneath. Breezes ruffling up the clearness. Tempting the unknown. Rippling. Rippling. Blurring. 0 brilliant sharp jewels, 0 never reveal the unshown. Waters still. Sharpness returns. Only the twinkle is stirring. A return of the dawn And a dimming of the sharp. Rejecting the twinkling, returning the lake. Christine Ohman, Science VI, Cumming House. THE CIRCUS FIRE FANNED by the wind, the hungry flames rose higher and higher; the billows of smoke became so dense that it was impossible to see or to breathe properly. Panic was in the air, and mass hysteria gripped the huge crowd. The pounding of feet and the clamour of voices grew louder as they surged from the circus tent. Like a tidal wave they swept all away before them, disregarding those trapped inside or trampled underfoot. Faster and faster they swarmed through the door, and ran in every direction without logic or purpose. They were terror-stricken, urged on by the crackle of the flames, and forgetting all. In a few moments a huge immobile crowd had been changed into a frenzied mob, permeated with only one desire — to flee to safety. Mary Home, Arts VI, Ross House. [31 J

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TRAFALGAR: WEEKEND Deserted. Neat and tidy and deserted. I feel the world must hear each step I take. Walk, almost tiptoe, to familiar places Bare of faces. Quiet, deserted. Every step I take is clear. What ear That has not heard? Quiet classrooms. Blackboards bare. Tomorrow I ' ll forget that this was ever still. Two hundred rushing feet will fill the hall. All Will be returned. Two hundred talking voices, Laughing faces. And more are coming, climbing up the hill. But all the noise combined won ' t be As loud as that made now, by me. Caryl Churchill, Form IIIa, Cumming House. FORM IIIA PROPHECY REMEMBER our class president, Judith Bennett? Well, only last week she was seen hanging out a shingle which read: The Bennett House of Hairstyling . We also hear that Jane Brow is applying for the job of wash- woman in the same building. Hope you make it, Jane. As we take a stroll down the quiet refined boulevard where most important businessmen have their offices, we meet Elizabeth Dingman with her spy glasses in one hand and her bloodhound on a leash. She tells us she has been appointed to the difficult position of woman reporter, and has just finished an article on Martha Hicks. Martha has improved several theorems in Inter- mediate Geometry and is doing a wonderful job as Maths teacher at Bishop ' s. On the sports page of our newspaper we find that Frankie Galland has gained the title of Athlete of the Year in wrestling. She has won seven matches in a row. I wonder if her manager and trainer — Benita Haslett and Ann Kampouris respectively — will be able to produce more champions from the training fields on the Trafalgar Plains? Fotini and her dog Fifi have entered the theatrical field at the M.G.M. studios. Her latest picture was Mother Wore Tights . Susan Kilburn is her private chauffeur. Remember Kristin Liersch? She is now the famous cross-word puzzle cracker, and Judy Bourdeau is working as her nursemaid. Talking about news, Joan Branscombe is up in Mars. Evidently she didn ' t believe Mrs. Clayden who told her life simply didn ' t exist on that planet. Joan felt she had to prove it and we ' re still waiting to hear from her. Write soon, Joanie. Brenda Keddie has been appointed French Inspector in the province. Also, [30]

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L ' AUTOBIOGRAPHIE D UNE PAIRE DE BOTTES JE suis une paire de bottes utiles et jolies, on me couche dans un carton sur la planche d ' un magasin sombre. Maintenant je vous dirai comment je suis arrivee a ce magasin-ci. On m ' a emballee dans une petite boite, et alors, on ni ' a mise dans un grand panier, avec beaucoup de mes autres amies bottes. Enfin nous sommes arrivees a une petite boutique dans une rue de Paris. Une aimable jeune fille ni ' a mise sur un rayon, ou je dors seule et triste. Puis, une journee miserable, j ' ai quitte le magasin dans les bras aimants d ' une tres petite fille, qui m ' a apportee a une petite cabane blanche dans les faubourgs de Paris. Durant Fhiver, I ' enfant m ' a portee de temps en temps, mais en ete, rarement, car elle est allee au bord de la mer dans le midi de la France. La deuxieme annee de mon sejour avec ma jolie maitresse, j ' ai ete abandonnee sur la plage et j ' ecoute le chant triste des vagues, qui se battent contre les rochers au bord de la mer. HOUGH the fire was lit as usual, there was still a chill in the room. -■- Yet it was not the damp room which made my hands icy and covered my brow with sweat. It was that old-time chiller, fear. Fear, that caught my breath when a wind-blown branch screeched across the windowpane, that set me trembling at the hissing of a falling log, that made me cry out like an idiot when my cat jumped unexpectedly into my lap. Fear, because I must sit alone in that chill and lonely room, waiting to be murdered. I tried to light a cigarette, but the trembling of my hands would not permit it. Disgustedly, I threw it on tbe floor, and it rolled on the rug and lay there, impersonal, not caring that tonight might be my last. My last night, as other nights not long ago had been the last for my three dearest friends. Of course, Scotland Yard had told me, their murderer would complete the circle with nic. So now I must play decoy for them, I must be the bait in a trap made of the best of Scotland Yard ' s Homicide Squad. I must sit here, with the same question hammering in my brain with each terrible thump of my heart. What if the murderer caught me first? How I would have welcomed the company of my wife. Yet she had retired early as usual, unaware that in the garden below waited a ring of men from the Homicide Squad, my slim chance between life and death. I was alone now, forsaken by even the cat, every heartbeat catching horribly in my throat, every tick of the clock echoing in my brain. The furniture stared at me coldly, high-backed chairs with lace covers, a brocade footstool, a mahogany table with carved legs — they didn ' t care, they would go on the same, what difference did it make? The wind slashed the branches outside in fury, and with such force MoRVEN McIlquham, Form IHb, Ross House. SUSPENSE [32]