Page 43 - 1959

3rd- Grade 12 & 13
THE RAILWAY STATION
The station lies in pregnant silence. Behind her dirty windows and bat-
tered doors, expectancy reigns supreme. In a dark corner of the waiting room, an old man snores his way unobtrusively through the long wait. The cigar clenched between his teeth silently donates its smoke to the already polluted air. Beside him, his wife sits serenely reading, unaware of her snoring hus- band. Across the room, a young woman stands, her hands clutching the door- knob. Her eyes stare vacantly at some invisible wonder far off in infinite space. Sitting on a suitcase, a little girl happily swings her feet above the unswept board floor. Her thin, shrill voice grates upon the deadened ears of her parents in a heart-rending cry for peanuts. Weary and exasperated, the ticket agent rests his aching head upon his aching hands and glances up at the clock. His thought is echoed around the room. Five more minutes.
A clatter is heard in the distance. The old man urges his tired body into reluctant wakefulness. His cigar falls unnoticed to the floor. Hesitant to end her reading, his wife struggles to her feet and bustles over to peer from the dirty window. The young woman, her eyes now brightly alert, turns the doorknob and clatters down the creaking platform to greet her home-coming husband. Still on the suitcase, the little girl placidly munches her peanuts, disregarding the hurried pleas of her haggard father. Heaving a great sigh of relief1 the ticket agent slams closed his wicket. The monotonous click of the teletype slows 1 and finally comes to a halt. The station is silent now. Her doors are locked, her lights turned off. She seems to be sleeping, her job well done, gathering energy for another day.
DREAMLAND At night, when allis quiet,
When the children are asleep.
And their minds are off in Dreamland Where many visions leap,
They dream they're at a circus, Where everything is merry,
With lots of clowns and funny faces, Each nose just like a cherry.
THE END OF THE DAY Through sunset
Shades of evening fall,
To make the grey of dusk,
As odour falls on buffalo
To make the smell of musk.
And far away on meadow ground, Wearily the farmer plods
To make his homeward way along Through the dew-drenched sods. So fades the light of all the sun Far down behind the bay
To go to slumber in the West
And end another day.
THE HULA HOOP Everybody's swingin' nowadays
With something they call the latest craze. How they all do it, will not cease to amaze - To learn It would take me the rest of my days. But the public they have managed to dupe With the swingin ' sensation - the Hula Hoop!
BENCH WARMER The glory of playing basketball
When playing is a cinch
Is nothing to the glory
Of sitting on the bench.
Even scoring baskets
While the game they clinch
Is naught compared to the glory While seated on the bench.
One gets to sit beside the coach, Important and renown;
Glad are we who sit beside him While the bench we warm.
We sit and rest and never tire While real players all perspire, But we who sit upon the bench Would not our record mire.
But all these glories and many more Are all but naught to me,
Compared to the greatest of them all - All the games are fret>!
BRIAN HODGES 9D
Lions and tigers, ferocious and wild,
Then come pink elephants, flapping their·ears, Giraffes with long necks, horses with riders, Careening about without any fears.
They dream of all the good things to eat;
Hot dogs and candy swirl in their heads.
Then, from the stillness, the voice of small fate ,'- "Mommy, I've got such a big tummy ache!"
BETTY HOOD & SANDRA LAUGHLIN 9K
KATHRYN NEWBY 1OA
SANDRA WEIR 9D
BRENDA GILBERT 128
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