Walkerville Collegiate Institute - Blue and White Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

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Men of Canada Claire Bontront, 13-C Along the street the marching feet Beat rhythm to the band, Canadian soldiers trim and neat Are guarding sea and land. From morn till night they’ll fight, fight, fight, Long hours they’ll endure, Their bodies strain with might and main To keep us safe and sure. Page Thirty-nine

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BLUE AND WHITE POILU Elizabeth Galbraith, 13-A In years to come no mound will show, No stone will mark his grave; The sand w r ill heap, and sift, and flow O’er Paul Lebrun, the brave— And wand’ring Arabs ne’er will know The France he died to save. The sun beats down with piercing light, The sand burns o’er his breast; The cool winds kiss him in the night, And lull him into rest— Palm trees salute him from their height, And strange stars know him blest. His land is humbled - lost, his bride, His family, friends, and he— A wasting mound by Pharoh’s side, And next, the pulsing sea; But three fair sisters stand beside And guard eternally. “ - - Liberte - - Egalite - - Fraternite HORACE Ruth Fornataro, 13-A There was once a poet named Horace, We think he is simply abhorace, Rut when we translate We go a good gait When we have our tranlations beforace. Mr. Burr tries in vain to implorace To try to appreciate Horace, But we sit there and talk And look at the clock Because de does nothing but borace. One morn I saw a dew drop Soarkling in the sun. With shining light it twinkled, And then its day was done. One noon I saw the sun’s rays Pouring down from Heaven, And in my soul I drank its light, Which felt to me like leaven. One eve I saw a shining star Gleaming up on high, And up to it my soul aspires Until some day I die. To the Bright Pupil Bright pupil! Whose knowledge is your pride! You have your own bright head to guide You to the rank of one beside A scholar and a student; Methinks that there abides in thee Some other trait besides ability To rise above that ever restless sea— The not-so-prudent! Is it that they are soon depressed? A thoughtless thing! Who, once unblest, Do little on their memory rest, Or on their reason. And you could teach them how to find The hidden merits of their mind, They would not think you so unkind To try to please them. You have your jealous friends, I know, Those envious of the wit you show Both in your class and the world below, From day to day. Your fame is wrought by careful concentration, Resulting in the wonderful sensation Of something. POEM - Anon How great are the trials of learning, The homework and speeches and all, For them few pupils are yearning, But then, you know Mr. Ball! How great are the trials of teaching, Especially the subject of French, Says Miss Dickey, that silver-haired maiden, That short, petite little wench. “For Job had no trials or troubles” She says when an answer we miss, ’Cause our heads are simply like bubbles Which, stuck with a pin, would just hiss. Page Thirty eight

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' BLUE AND WHITE Their life, though filled with action, Is shared with joy and tears, From the stooped and weary veteran To the youth unnerved by fears. For months throughout our fair domain, They’ve lived by bugle call. With this thought foremost in their mind, “Never let the old flag fall”. With cheery song they march along. Though aching at each tread; Dauntless spirits held on high, They’re off for all that lies ahead. Now, fain forsaking home and friends, They board the waiting train, With one soft sigh they wave goodbye, And shout that they’ll be back again. They strolled along together, The sky was studded with stars; They reached the gate together, And he lifted for her the bars; She raised her brown eyes to him, There’s nothing between them now; For he was just a hired man And she was a Jersey cow! SPRING SONG 1941 Light delicate touch of budding green In street and in lane We see it again, It is spring! This tender creation of life has been A song in our youth Of beauty and truth, Strength to bring. Though terror and death down from the sky, With sorrow and tears Fill our young years, We will hold Through our country’s fair beauty, our courage on high. Till all lands are free. Then in peace, hear and see Spring unfold. Barbara Sales, 11E. The Story of Fidgety Philip “I often wonder if our Phil Will learn at table to sit still?” His father’s voice was very grave, As he warned him to behave. His mother looked with silent gaze Around the table in amaze; Philip no attention paid To what his loving father said. He wriggled and jiggled, He see-sawed and hee-hawed; Forward and backward he tilted his S63.t “Stop it, Philip, I do entreat”, See him on his chair just hang, Soon he’ll go down with a bang. The chair will slip with Philip’s weight Because the see-saws are too great; Back goes his chair and down he falls, It mattered not his frightened squalls; Nothing can his fall prevent, But. snatching at the cloth, he sent Flving, every dish and plate. His father’s wrath was very great, And his mother mutely gazed ’Round the table quite amazed; Phil has gone down with his chair, The table’s left quite clear and bare; Not a scrap is left to eat, Soup, potatoes, bread and meat, Every glass and dish and bowl Wildly on the floor did roll. Father Jackson and his wife Never saw in all their life Such a mess as this before, They looked with wonder at the floor Where, destroyed, lay all their dinner. And did their tempers start to simmer! Sergeant: “Any of you men got a dirty uniform?” Recruit: (hoping for a new uniform): “Yes, sergeant, look at me.” Sergeant: “You’ll do. Report to-morrow morning at 6.30 for coal shovelling.” «» “Whv do you call your wife Pegasus?” “Well, Pegasus was an immortal horse and my wif» pn eternal nag.” Page Forty