Canton High School - Cantonian Yearbook (Canton, IL)

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1916 THE CANTONIAN Her eyes filled with tears and her heart ached for her boy, but she forced back the tears and swallowed the aehe and talked until the shadows began to lengthen o11 the walls. Goodbye, Henri, she said, as she kissed him. May God bless you and keep you for his own. I,ook for me to-morrow in the crowd. And show them a lfrcnch- man is a soldier. 'KGoodbye, my boy, and again may God bless youf' She was gone, but she left behind her the brightest heart that cell had ever seen. The next morning dawned. Down the street came a ruf'He of drums and a sad procession came into view. In the midst of it marched a boy, only a boy. but his head was up, his shoulders were back and he marched gayly and looked happily at all nature. Many hearts ached ashe bravely took his place and smiled at a pale- faeed little lady i11 the crowd. Still he smiled as the guns were loaded, aimed- l irelU rang the fatal word. The bullets whistled through the air and thc boy, with one last look of love and confidence for his mother, fell to the ground. Ani-an C'Lt rs, '17 IHHHII UHHHIUIIIHHIHHIIIHHHIHWHI Ilillilll Sprirgg I'm comingf said the little seedlet gay, Beneath the cover of the leaves and snow. VVhat care I how,U he cried, thc cold winds blow, I mean to beat the robi11 and the jay, Iim tired of sleeping ,neath the snow all day. I'll push my brown head up and grow and grow, Ere long Iill see the bright sunlight, I know. Oh, what a lovely flower will some one say. So, toiling upward thro' the snow and sleet The blue forget-me-not, I search and find The golden buttcreup, the VVilliam sweet And many that I cannot call to mind Are there. Just look, I do not mean to cheat, You can bouquets in countless numbers find. IRMA SPANGLER, '17 1525 I' 'i nf?u7L.9 3 7, -, Q, igitfai f

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U THE CANTONIAN 1916 G js cz Soldier Should HH sallow sunlight drifted lazily through the barred window and fell i11 fitful patches on the cold, damp wall of a cell in a German prison. It fell, too, on a small, 11?l!'l'OW cot where lay a young French aviator. He was scarcely more than a boy, having ust reached his seventeenth year. His straight, black hair was wet with sweat. altho it was not a hot day. 'His great, black eyes burned wildly and seemed to gaze upon the world with a look of destroyed confidence. His face was haggard and drawn and he moaned to himself as he tossed on the hard bed. V Through his mind passed thoughts of the morning not far distant when he had so gayly left France with a superior otticer to spy over the country of Alsace in his beloved aeroplane. lVell he remembered the clear autumn sunshine of that beautiful morning. He remembered passing his dear old home in Alsace and sighting a Gere man camp soon after. A bullet had whistled thru the air and crippled the right wing of his machine. He had tried to right the machine, but it plunged downward. Again he heard the French officers ery as they dived toward the earth. He knew no more for several days. lVhen he again looked upon the world with understanding he found himself in this narrow cell. Slowly the truth came to him. He was a prisoner in a German prison. He had been surprised to find th:1t his guard was a German friend of his, with whom he had grown up. Ever since he could re- member, he and Hans had played together. But now they were the bitterest of foes. The door opened and Hans came in. Good morning. Henrif' Good morning, Hans. VVhat news? lVhat is to be done with me? Donit keep it back. Hans. Tell me nowf, I hate to, Henri, but I must. You have been condemned as a spy and you are to be shot at sunrise tosmorrow. I did my best. but it was of no used, 'l'hatls all right. Hans. I know you did all you could. But, ohl Hans, I hate to die. lim afraid to die, I am. I am, a11d the boy burst into tears and sobbed as only a man can. YVhen he had done with his tears he begged the German to bring his mother to him and the German promised to do so. Noon of that day found her at the camp. She was a lovely lady. petite and dark, with pride plainly written on her features. Before I go to Henri tell me what to expect, she said to Hans. So Hans told her the story as I have told it to you, but he laid particular stress on the fact that Henri had sobbed as a child might. This roused the mother's pride. but no sign of annoyance could be noted by the German. In her heart, however. she formed a plan which would be hard for her to carry out. How hard, no one but a mother knows. She entered the cell calmly and answered I-Ienri's broken greeting with sweet and tender caresses. Calmly she dried his tears and soothed his ruliled spirits. Henri, my boy, do not forget that you are a soldier and a Frcnchmanfi I know. mother. But. oh, it is so hard to die when I'd love so much to live. Mother, can't you save me? He clung to her hand and pleaded, with the tears coursing down his boyish checks. Yes, Henri, I have saved youf' Saved me, mother? Yes, saved you. To-morrow you shall be fired at with blank cartridges and the next day you will be allowed to go homef, Home! Home! Think. mother, sweet home! 0h! I shall be the happiest boy in all France to see home again.

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THE CANTONIAN 1916 Jemima and Jimmie 65 IMMIHH MADISON was christened Jemima Jane. but if anv one should have asked her what l1er name was she would have said, Jimmie.U Jemima Jane was o11ly applied to Aunt Jemima, for whom Jimmie was named, while Jemima Jane, second, was Jimmie'l to every one but that aunt. All the Madison family, big and little, came to the old country mansion for Thanksgiving and they had excellent reasons for doing so. Grandmother Madisonis pantry was always full of good things to eat 'and the Thanksgiving dinner was fit for a king. The older people spent the day in conversation. They discussed every- thing, from the national problems of the day, to their youngsters and what they did. The children, though, were the ones whose delight knew no bounds when Thanksgiv- ing Day was mentioned. That was a day of pure, undefiled fun for them, especially if there was snow on the ground, for there was a big hill to coast down, ust back of the house, with a pond at the base. On this particular Thanksgiving Day, Jimmie opened her eyes upon a sparkling, dazzling world of white. There was snow, snow everywhere. The trees, fences, and telephone wires were covered with a glistening mantle. Jimmie saw in a minute vis- ions of coasting. snow battles, and skating. Oh. wasn't it perfectly lovely to have it snow ust at the right time. Downstairs, Grandmother was getting breakfast and Jimmie became suddenly very hungry, as the appetizing odor of pancakes penetrated the room. Soon they were all at the table feasting and planning for the day. lvhen breakfast was over, the remainder of the aunts. uncles, and cousins began to arrive. bundled in fnrs and robes from head to foot, as they elambered from their sleighs. The bigger boys started to shovel the snow off the pond and the younger children became actively engaged in building immense snow forts. The grown-ups went about the house laughing and chatting, amusing themselves in less vigorous pastime than the young- sters. Jimmie was completely happyg there was nothing to mar her fun. Aunt Jemima was in Europe and therefore eouldn't lecture Jimmie on manners, holding up her own childhood as an example. Miss Jemima had never snow-balled, had never eoasted, never skated, never played like other girls. Jimmie couldnit imagine how Aunt Jemima had spent her time and to all her inquiries Miss Jemima had an- swered that she did the things that any little lady should. YVhat those things were, however, Miss Jemima never said. All morning the children eoasted and skated. Some of them fell and hit their heads on the ice but they didnit mind. It was fun to tumble down and get up to try again. Just before noon the snow tight began. The forts were in the front yard, one facing the porch, with the gate just behind it, and the other facing the gate, with the porch just behind it. The gate and porch provided a means of escape if one was lucky enough to slip away unnoticed by one's opponents. Unhappy it was, however, if one was seen trying to slip out, for that head became a target for a dozen solid snowballs. as did every head that was raised above the fort. The battle was growing quite fierce, when suddenly one of the garrison of the fort, nearest the porch, saw a head above the other fort, just in the gate. Believing this to be someone who was trying to escape, the children showered the snowballs thick and fast upon that head and it soon disappeared with a jerk. Jimmie, de- lighted to see an opponent fall, was shouting 'tGoodie! Goodie in with the rest of the garrison. when one of the opposing force called out, I say. kids, it's Aunt Jemima! If Jimmie could have fainted on the spot she would have been desperately thankful. but she eouldnlt. She only ran into the house to hear what Aunt Jemima