Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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WHY THE GRAND-FATHER CLOCK FORGOT TO STRIKE MIDNIGHT IT WAS late at night and all the family had gone to bed. The grand-father clock found it hard to keep awake. I wish someone were here, he said, but of course why should there be? All of a sudden he heard a funny noise; it was a noise of scraping. Oh dear! said the grand-father clock to himself, I hope that it is not a burglar. Then two mice came into view. One was bigger than the other, so it was plain to see that they were probably married, and looking for a home. The bigger mouse began to speak, I think this is a good place for a home. We can make a nice cosy nest, and we shall make it behind the grand-father clock. No cat would ever think of looking there, and the grand- father clock will tell us what time it is. Yes! I think so too, said his wife. Hello! said the grand-father clock. Eeeeeeee! screamed the two mice, and scuttled away to a dark corner of the room. Oh! do not be afraid, I ' m only grand-father clock, and I would be so pleased if you made your nest behind me! You do not have to worry about a cat, because the people in this house do not have one, but I still could tell you the time. When it is time to get up, I shall chime loudly, but when it is late, I shall not! Well that is fine! said the smaller mouse. My name is Swissy, because I like Swiss cheese better than any other kind! My husband ' s name is Wilsil, because he likes Wilsil bacon better than any other kind! Do you think, Swissy, that we should make our nest now? asked Wilsil. Why not wait until morning, because it is now fifteen minutes past midnight? asked the clock. Yes! We will do that! said the two mice together. Tonight we will sleep in this boot! said Swissy. Oh! what ' s wrong, grand-father clock? asked Wilsil. It was no wonder he said what he did, for the grand-father was very green! I forgot to strike midnight! said the grand-father clock. Janet Beattie, Upper I, Age IQi . [30]

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DECEMBER December is the time of year When people are full of joy and cheer. The streets are full of happy people, And bells are ringing in the steeple. Beth Lennox, Lower I, Age 91 . THE STREAM The little stream sparkles Through the fields and forests. And bubbles on the pebbles. And shines like gold Under the flaming sun; And from the wide and sunny sky. Shines the silver moon by night. And turns the stream Into a silvery stretch; And when morning comes. It shines gold, and goes on forever. SiMONE Engelbert, Upper II, Gumming House. AUTUMN IN THE WOODS AUTUMN IN the wood just captures my heart with its stiff breeze. Last night we had a tang of frost, which makes the air fresh. The leaves make a crunching sound as I walk along. I hear the birds calling, as if saying their last farewells, and the honking of the geese overhead. As I look up I see the leaves falling down like little fairies in coloured dresses. Though I am enjoying myself here, I know that the brook must be pretty, so I go to see it. Through the woodland I go to a babbling brook. The foam with the leaves on it makes it look like a decorated cake. Here I rest, to think that in a few weeks it will have changed all its glory and splendor to a dark silent wood, asleep. Barbara Clarke, Form II, Ross House. MOONBEAMS At night o ' er all the sleeping earth. The moon sheds silvery beams, Down which angels slide to bring. To mortals, golden dreams. They shine suspended in the sky. Indeed they are a glorious sight. And if you look towards the moon. You may see them every night. Betty Shannon, Form II, Gumming House. [29]

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THE LITTLE CHRISTMAS TREE IN THE middle of a deep forest, there was a clearing. In the middle of that clearing, there was a little Christmas tree. A fairy in the tree was sad, because she had no present for the animals who were asleep now. Then she had an idea. She went and found lots of acorns and nuts and hung them on the tree. Then she took out all the seeds she had saved for making necklaces for the ball where they were to pick the Christmas fairy. She opened the box where she kept the moss for her bed, and took out the best piece of moss. Then she took the seeds and the moss and put them under the Christmas tree. She was late for the ball, but was just in time for the queen who was looking around. She said, You are the Christmas Fairy because you were kind to the animals. The little Christmas tree is a big fir tree now, but the fairies still dance around it every Christmas night. And that is the story of the little Christmas tree. Harriet Dupont, Lower I, Age 9. THE UNDERWATER WORLD ONE DAY, as I was walking on the beach, ready to go swimming, I saw one of my friends who had an underwater mask. I asked her if I could use it, and as soon as I had permission I put it on and made a dive. The short time I spent under the water will be the most enchanting part of my life. The blue element of the v ater transformed the vegetation into a magic garden. The plants were of many varieties, blooms so colourful that one was amazed at seeing them. There were frozen flowers of every shape and hue, exquisite branching trees and shrubs, and sea creatures such as scarlet and blue star fishes, pink anemones, crabs of all colours, and lion fishes. All of them swam by, in all directions, waving their tails as if they had wings. A blue veil covered everything down there. The open and glittering shells of the clams and oysters were glued into the rocks, mixed with seaweeds. I suddenly turned my head around and was terrified at the view of a polyp. An ugly creature, half animal and half plant, it looked like a hundred headed snake growing out of the rock. Its branches were long slim arms with fingers like wriggling worms. I tried to escape the grab of the polyp by folding my arms over my breast, and darting through the water like a fish. I was so frightened that I decided to leave the depths of the sea and come out under the sun again. My friend awaited me at the shore, and I sat for the rest of the afternoon, dreaming of the wonderful things I had seen. Catherine Hadjipateras, Upper II, Barclay House. THE BUNNY We saw the bunny wash his face, As he sat in a garden-place; He nibbled lettuce leaves, and then We saw him wash his face again. Sharon Baly, Remove, Age 81 . [31]