Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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THE ADVANCING OF THE TIDE STANDING on the scorching sand, I stared out over the rolHng sea. The moon, which was but a small, white crescent in the afternoon sky, had started drawing the sea shoreward; soon the tide would engulf the miles and miles of silvery sand whereupon I now stood. I watched it come, bit by bit, so regularly that the rhythm of the sea gripped me and held me in its grasp. The whitecaps rushed in and burst, the foam rising nearer and nearer to my bare feet, and then subsiding. My eyes were glued to the sand before me, measuring the distance each time that the gigantic waves rolled in and broke. Closer and closer, each time just a little closer, until the sand was swept from under my feet, and my toes dug into the changing land beneath me. Again and again the waves tumbled in, back and forth, and their motion gripped me and held me in its grasp — the continuous rising and falling, rising and falling, until every movement within my body was rising and falling with the sea. The water rose higher and higher on my legs as it poured forth over the hot, dry land, then the under-current dragged it swiftly back, and at the same time, fresh sea rushed in past me. A gull swooped by and soared upward; still the sea was rising — rising and falling — and still it rose . . . Laureen Hicks, Arts VI, Fairley House. ADOLESCENCE I was wandering far and alone. Seeking the call of fortune. Alive and awake with the dawn, And at night fading into the mist. I wandered past rivers running to sea, Past lakes, and mountains, and towns. Like the wind I wandered alone and free, Still not by fortune found. I did not know what I was seeking, I knew only it had to be found. So I wandered on like the stream, Onward and into a pond. The pond was calm, not the sea of life; It was happiness pure, without strings. But, like the fool that I was, I wandered on And left the pond behind. RoNNE Heming, Form IVa, Fairley House. • • • [26]

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AUTUMN Grasping for the last warm summer days. The trees are long hands reaching up the sky, And here and there a bright leaf floating by Is caught and held. The north wind tears the haze That lingers over stubble fields of wheat. Hiding the autumn ' s ravages. It seems A vain attempt to give men vainer dreams, A phantom symbol of a vanished heat. Now grey rains come, and hoarfrost on the ground — Realities in autumn ' s unreal world Where woods mist-shrouded stand, and not a sound Breathes in the potent stillness, but from curled And dripping leaves the heavy drops come down — A transfixed breathlessness, and leaves wind-whirled. HE eastern horizon became shot with streaks of orange, as the sun began JL its journey across the heavens. The streaks became more and more vivid, and the sky around them flushed a soft pink. This rosy light gave the walls of the castle a far away, dim look. I could not be sure if it was there or not. Is it real? I asked myself. The only way to find out is to go and see, I replied. I began to run, stumbling because I could not take my eyes away from this mystical building. When I arrived within forty yards of the castle, I stopped, horror struck. I realized that my castle of dreams was a heap of stone, not even worth using as a sheep shelter. Just rubbish! What a let-down! As I walked slowly homeward, I was sad and depressed. I realized how many things in life look beautiful and fairy-like from a distance, but when one reaches them, they are not worth running after. Anne Begor, Arts VI, Gumming House. ILLUSION Jessie MacLean, Form IIIa, Ross House. [25]

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SELECTING A WARDROBE THE PRIME requisites in the selection of a wardrobe to cover oneself and all occasions are a supply of money (preferably limitless) and a sense of dress, a faculty which is not easily acquired by some, and never by many. A particular instance to amplify this contention would be that of my Great-Aunt Maud, a lady of quite ample proportions, who had her own ideas on the subject of dress, and who once assisted me in the selection of a wardrobe suitable for wear, as she expressed it, in one of the remoter outposts of the Empire . She referred to Canada. Thinking back, whatever shortcomings she might have had on the subject of dress, she had a pretty turn of phrase and was an excellent companion. I had prepared a list of occasions and garments suitable for each occasion, with a view to deciding upon a minimum or basic wardrobe, to be varied later by different accessories to provide a ringing of the changes . The list was formidable, and I was quite glad to have access to at least one of the prime requisites, a limitless supply of money. Dear Papa! The list, however, was by no means as formidable as Great-Aunt Maud, whose descent upon unsuspecting clothing stores is reminiscent of the Crusades. There is one West End store in London where, upon her entry, the manager promptly goes to lunch, be it only ten o ' clock in the morning. We entered the sviit department first, since I had three suits on my list, a light tweedy one for country or informal wear, and a gray and a blue for town wear. These were to form a nucleus, with sweaters and blouses for day Autumn wear. I had decided, if possible, to choose the two town suits so that the same accessories might be worn with both. When we left the suit department some three hours later, I was exhausted. I had tried on every suit that was my size in the establishment, as well as many suits that were not. Despite the attempts of Great-Aunt Maud to persuade me to have browns and greens, I had emerged with the suits of the colours I had first decided upon. The manageress was in a state of collapse; Aunt Maud, however, was serene and in command of the situation. Lunch, now, she said, and lunch it was. Lunch with Aunt Maud is an experience that would require a further essay; suffice it to say we had lunch and restuned our foray. Shoes, stockings, underwear, a camel top-coat and a smart suede hat were eventually purchased with Aunt Maud disapproving my choice on all occasions. Oh no! my dear, not that! I can hear her yet. At length, in the dress depart- ment, after I had chosen the three day dresses on my list, and a formal dress. Aunt Maud turned to me and said, I would like to buy you a dress as a gift, but you must be guided by me! and she chose me a 1920 chemise dress! Imagine my predicament, and remember, too, I am in the Will. Worse was to come, however, for immediately afterwards I found myself in possession of a couple of yards of pearl beads to wear with the dress. Learn to twirl them gracefully, she advised me. My shame was complete; I ' ll never, never wear them, I thought. How little we know ourselves now becomes obvious, for, yes, you have guessed it, of all the things I purchased that day. Aunt Maud ' s dress [27]