Johnstown High School - Spectator Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

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The Spectator . 21 Billy, this afternoon bring old Tricky down to the office, for I shall need her. And mind, young man, if you don't show up at the office at three o'clock, there will be a certain small boy who will wish hickory trees had never been inventedf, So saying, Uncle Billy walked off, and small Billy, waiting till he was a proper distance away, made a face at the retreating back. Even if Uncle Billy had seen it, that's all the good it would have done him, for in oft-repeated trials of speed, young Billy had come out ahead, all but once, and that was when-but that is another story. Two o'clock came. Young Billy was down at the creek, catching crabs. A loud whinny brought him back to earth and duties. Dropping crab nets and crabs, he broke into a run for the house, gave a horrified glance at the clock, and prompted by a painful recollection of former duties forgotten, hurried in- to the stable, and to Tricky's stall. Tricky got her name from a very bad habit of hers. When- ever any one came towards her with her saddle, she took a deep breath, 'and held it while the girth was tightened. Then she let her breath out and the girth was nice and loose. Usually the person putting on the saddle gave Tricky a sharp blow in the side and before she could get her breath again clinched the girth tighter., This day Billy was in such a hurry that he forgot to give Tricky a slap, and she held her breath till she nearly burst, all unnoticed by Billy. Billy climbed on Tricky's back, but being too small to reach the stirrups, slipped his feet between the straps above the stirrups and giving Tricky a slap, started on a gallop for town. The road was straight and Tricky was a race horse. All went right for the first two miles. just as Tricky was going her best, the saddle slipped and turned over, and a certain surprised Billy was being dragged over the rocky roads, but not for far, for the wise horse braced her feet, and ploughed furrows in the ground for about six feet. She knew more than Billy did. But boys will be boys. Billy jumped up and brushed himself off: a few minutes later surprised neighbors were watching a distant gal- loping figure. Billy arrived in town fifteen minutes late, but received no

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20 The Spectator to see it, explaining the cause the folks that some day when would come back. just as he varia-colored poster caught his and stood in front of it. Never that. A drunken man was just over the head, with a bottle. of his leaving home and telling he was great and wealthy he was entering the city a huge, eye. He got out of the buggy had he seen a horrid poster like in the act of hitting a little girl Caleb was astounded and stood as one in a dream, while the old mare nibbled the grass along the roadside. Was act- ing like that the way to wealth and glory ?,' Would he have to do it? If he did could he ever conscientiously come back for Phoebe Crebbern, as he hrmly intended to do? Then thoughts of his father's wrath and his motherls grief, which before this had not been considered, and the hatred which all the people in that part of the country, who had known him all his life, would bear him, made him say to himself, Is it worth while Pl' Without answering himself, he got back in the buggy, touched up the old mare and drove off toward town. He sold his produce and on the way home that afternoon passed the poster, without even a glance at it. Caleb, now a young man, goes several nights a Week to court Phoebe. It is rumored they are to be married in the near future. He is a sub-deacon in the church now and although he goes to town every week he never permits himself to see a bill-board. Tricky By Ruth Eldridge '12 early June. The air was de- T was a misty morning in lightfully cool. The horse, in her stall, thought so. Uncle Billy, walking towards the stable but a small Billy, who just came bing his eyes, did not think so. looked much better. Billy! hey Billy! Where on earth is that young rascal? Oh! here at last, are you? Step lively now, and feed those pigs. They have been squealing for breakfast for an hour now. And to feed the stock, thought sog out of the house, sleepily rub- A certain, small, white bed

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22 The Spectato-r lecture. Perhaps Uncle Billy thought he had already received some punishment, though not a word of Billy's mishap did Uncle Billy hear. Whither Thou Goest By Helen Eldridge ,I2 T was a beautiful spring day in 1762. The trees were bud- dingg the grass was growing, and there was that in- describable odor in the air which tells of spring. Ruth VVinters thought that she had never seen a more beautiful day. As Ruth walked along, she glanced curiously at the quiet dress of the two Quakers in front of her. It seemed strange that these people, who had such good, kind faces, could be wicked heretics, as her father had taught her to believe. Absorbed in her thoughts, she did not notice that a crowd was collecting, until she was roused from her reverie by hearing a voice'cry, Down with the Quakers ! The cry was taken up and repeated by the mob, which be- gan to press in upon the Quakers and Ruth, whom they had mistaken for a Quaker alseo. Then one of the Quakers turned to Ruth and said: I am sorry that thee is annoyed on our ac- count. Ruth turned and saw a sweet-faced Quaker girl of about her own age. The girl continued: HI am Miriam Sharp- less, andf' turning to the young man, this is my cousin, Roger Sharpless. VVe were coming from Meeting ,when the crowd surrounded us. Thee is not afraid, I hope P Ruth laughed and said: I am afraid I was, but the crowd is dispersing now. I am Ruth Winters. The crowd, seeing that the Quakers could not be made angry by their taunts and jeers, had dispersedg and Ruth and the Quakers were standing alone. I must hurry home now, Ruth -continued. My father will think that Iam lost. We just came to London, and I have not yet become acquainted with the town. We should be pleased to have thee come and see us, said Miriam, if thee likes. I shall be delighted, replied Ruth. I do not know any- one yet, and I do get dreadfully lonesome.