November 1922 School Magazine

tsRiSBAND GIELS; GIiAMNIAR scltoot MeclziNr: Novern.ber, 1922. The Story of the West Wind.

"Ha, ha, hsre I come, I'.nr on for a la|k.,, .,And Afrirca! My, I could tell you a thing The loud shrill voice of the'blustering West or two atbout A,frica. Jungles, animals, reat, rvind sounded in llalph's ears as he wa,s flying live.giraffes, lions, rnonkeys! If you weren,t his nerv kite in the large meado'w. Ail at so cross I could make you rilish you were a once*Crack!-the string snappecl and with chimpanzee. ElephanLs don't like me. They a swif t dive the kite s,w ooped into the get toothache-or rather tu.skache-when I branche.s of a tall gum as if to verify the olrl blow.

adage, "Pride must have a fall.'r "Whir-r-oo-oo," ,whistlecl the "whir-r-oo-oo-ooo ! " Ralph regarded his k.ite dolefully. "Oh, Itt soon get that," cried the v'incl. "My, don't I like hustling and pumng." Another blorrv and the kite was on the ground. Ralph picked up his broken toy sorrolwf ully. "Poor kite," he said, "it's a beastly wincl, isn't it? It's rude. It's not a bit like the sunshiny $61[[ wind." "Oh, 1or, excuse my laughing, but I can't help it." All the trees shook 'with laughter. "'Ha, ha, ha." "My maxim is 'Wind and. t.icle stay no man's pleasure.' Ho, ho!" r'epliecl the rvind. "If you're not snappy nolw I'11 tell you a story. "I've just come'from India. Oh, what don't I knojyr about India. Mosques and temples and sacred rivers. I've seen them a]l. wintl;

"Tlterr thele is Egypt wirh its pyramids anrl Italy I'ith its Alps. But, goodness me, the land of my birth is Australia. I',m your brother. Don't like that, eh? My word you ought to go to Tulkey or China. Don't the little boys like me therer I never break their kite strings! Oh, no! "Next time you go to Coogee rememrber it's I rvho make the foaming waves and sea-phan- tom,s. Lor, clon't. I laurgh up my ,sleeve when their hats blow into the sea. Hullo, there goes yours. After him, qui/ck; ah, you,lI never get him." The West wind left Ralph as he hurriecl to meet his brother the North wind. Tosether they chatrIg11 ; - lTlvin monarchs of t.he earth are we. Fu1l ,sway we have in every ,place, Our lives are joyous, gay and free; How noble is our high-born race! D.M0C., IV. A.

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To Calliope. Oh, muse of poetry, thou didst inspire The blind rbard Homer to his wonclrous solg Of Ilium's siege and fall: thou, too, ere long, In Rome didst Vergil rouse with patriot,s flre, To v/rite the epic of Rome,s founding. Th' lyre Of Dante was the next to feel thy strong Hand srveep its strinrgs, in times of hate antl wron,g. To plays unequalled, verse that ne'er will tire Thou didst rouse Shakespeare, glorious in his po'wer: Thy glft olf grand melodious verse hign place To Milt,on gave: thou ibrought'st from out thy bower Thy sweetest worcls of melody and grace To give to Tennyson. Great is thy dower: But yet give more: from man ne'er hide thy 'f ace. J. Stephenson, VI.