What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Curling in Canada and the United States: A Record of the Tour of the ...
John Kerr, Psychologist
No preview available - 2015
Andrew's Applause Auld banquet Bobcaygeon Bonspiel brethren broom brother Caledonian Club Caledonian Curling Club Canada Canadian Captain cheers Church Colonel Stevenson Committee covered rinks Curling Team curling-stones Davidson Smith Dirleton district Dominion East Lothian entertained enthusiastic Flavelle friends gentlemen Grand Granite Halifax Hamilton Hamilton Thistle hearty honour interest James John John Kerr keen Kerr Kirk ladies land Lindsay Club Lord Lord Minto luncheon Major Scott Davidson Manitoba match Mayor Medal meeting Messrs Miss Montreal Mother-club Murray old country Ontario Curling Ontario Curling Association Orillia Ottawa Pboto Peterborough play players pleasure Prain present President province Provost Provost Ballantyne Quebec reception representative rinks Royal Caledonian Curling Royal Club Sauce Scotch Scotland Scots Scotsmen Scottish curlers Scottish team season Secretary shots skip song stones Stratford Thistle three rinks Toronto Toronto Granite tour trophies victory visitors Winnipeg winter
Page 117 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Page 216 - Thou shalt also consider in thine heart, that, as a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord thy God chasteneth thee. Therefore thou shalt keep the commandments of the Lord thy God, to walk in his ways, and to fear him. For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valleys and hills...
Page 219 - The bridegroom may forget the bride Was made his wedded wife yestreen ; The monarch may forget the crown ' That on his head an hour has been ; The mother may forget the child That smiles sae sweetly on her knee ; But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, And a' that thou hast done for me ! " LINES, SENT TO SIR JOHN WHITEFORD, OF WHITEFORD, BART.
Page 117 - Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branches Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom.
Page 356 - ... rainbows spanning them, a hundred feet below. Still, when the sun is on them, do they shine and glow like molten gold. Still, when the day is gloomy, do they fall like snow, or seem to crumble away like the front of a great chalk cliff, or roll down the rock like dense white smoke.
Page 622 - Oh say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Page 421 - Still glides the Stream, and shall forever glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies ; While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish ; — be it so / Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour ; And if, as toward...
Page 356 - It was not until I came on Table Rock, and looked — Great Heaven, on what a fall of bright green water ! — that it came upon me in its full might and majesty. Then when I felt how near to my Creator I was standing, the first effect, and the enduring one — install!
Page 1 - AULD LANG SYNE. SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to min' ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne ? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o kindness yet, For auld lang syne.
Page 622 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected now shines on the stream: Tis the star-spangled banner!