November 1922 School Magazine

IriOVEMbEr, 1922. BRISBANi' GIRI,S' GRAMMAh SCIIOOL IIIAGAZINE'

The Bush'

as it flows swi,ftly on. Oh, tbat I oould stay for ever here, in this great, siient bush' I thidk wistf ully-this land so 'peacelul, 'so beautiful. But a burst ot wild, enthusiaslilc music interrupts'my'thoughts. It comes frorm the, birds, the home.make.rs of the woods' Their songs are n'iid tbut beauti'ful and ap- pealing. They peep playfully over the sides of their nests, antl then seeing me, a stranger' draw hurriedly back ancl hold a Ioud excited conversation. ,Shyly the'y look again, and yet again, and. then assured that I will do no hal'm, they colmlmence quirckly on their work, for there is no time to be wasted by the in- drrstrious drvellers of the woodlancls' As I sit a iittle lbrdwn bunnie surveys rne from behind a rvide tree trunk, thinking him- self unnoticeil; ancl then, fuil of importance' scurries quickly past, eager to be fir'st to teIl the news. The snake creeps stealthily ar'ound; just over the near hill the dingo is crying; but I am not afraid, ,for nothing could harm me in this great, haP'PY lplace. The sun rises higher and higher, and then falls lower and lorver, and the songs of the rvoods rise ancl ifall with hitm. And when sheclcling his last dim rays he sinks behintl the distant hills, the vast bushland wraipt in tha.t red haze which tells that he has been and gone, siowly slips to slurm'ber. Anal I, slo,wly, unwillinglv, walk from the shado,ws with a longing dtrong within 'me to stay in this vast, flowepperfumed wood. I take one last lingering gaze at it, just as the golden moon climrbs slowly into a dark starlit sky prepared to Suard it until the morrow' rvhen tr'ather Sol will again iblink lazily on the horizon and wish a merry good morning' Thelma Warner, IV. C.

There is slveet musi,c here' that so'fter rfalls Than petais froim ,bltrwn roses on the grass' Music, that gentler on the spirit. iies Than tir'd eyelitls upon tir'd eye's. (Tennyson). Very early it is, rvhen Old Father Sol sits blinking on the clistant horizon and wishes a merry good.morning to all. Deep clown in the dervy glades ancl ilells' anil on the high mountains the pretty frail bush florwers be'gin lo. shake pearls of delrv froni their deli'cate petais, Iifting their tinted flon'er faces to the sun, srniliug happily. The cleep purple violel peeps trom behind the green slentler f erns, antl the 'blueibells-I can almost hear a tinkle of silver chime's as I bend to\l'arcls it and to touch it gently' Surely the bushland is awakening, for the yellow wattle,s 16s5 lheir fluffy golden heads in the lbreeze, rvhiler the smalt sun-kissed everlasting flower looks shyly from behind the leaves. And the green ferns sway gently as a slight rvind rise-s, ancl they whisper and laugh, tell- ing their secrets joyfully, '1vhile the wild iilies so stately and, tall, rise from amongst them and join in the PIaY. The haprpy breeze, now a little stronger' frolics with the pale lavender jacaraDtlas, and its 'blooms gradually spread a pretty carpet on the rground. The ;big beautiful bright butterfly rests ou the pink flower orf the orchid, and around the honeysuckle the 'rvilil 'bees tbuzz, impatient to begin their 'work. How beautiful it a1t isl I sink down on an old rough, stout log. At my feet the bro-ok-laughinrg' tu'mu1tu- ous, gurlgliilg-sings and \\'eeps in turn'

Valete, Sixth ! -_*{€- Full ,many, many years have passed and gone shining exam'ples to the school since your first summons by the tolling bell, Its l',10 I,o* your sLchooldays ail are left belrintl, We, who

you've been'

leaders always, both in work antl play, nrust take your place, and cari'y on,

that you could stay'

We wish

Most nohie Sixth, forerwell!

Here's luck to you-who, entering the wide rworld, Will finct nelw frienals-let not the old slip bv' Remembe'i' tho'se who wish you every joy, Now, good olct Sixth, Gootl-bye! Form V.