Johnstown High School - Spectator Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

Page 18 text:

8 SPECTATOR that you may come into the boats, but it is useless: you are wholly at the mercy of the crowd. Unable to reach the boats you seize a life-belt and, grasping it, throw yourself into the pitch below. Almost instantaneously you sink into the piercingly cold waters. You rise and sink continually, a helpless plaything of the mighty waves. You cannot hold out any longer! You gasp for breath! This is the finish! . . . A dull hoarse monotonous shriek rends the air. You have recovered the control of your imagination and now are complete master of yourself. Heaving a sigh of relief, you turn gladly away from these gruesome thoughts. You take another comprehensive view of the surroundings. It is dark, -so dark and vision-defying, that even the densest night cannot equal it. Yet no form of blackness is to be seen. This strikes you as unnatural,-out of the ordinary. Of a sudden you light upon a brilliant idea. Of course, you have left the earth, the abode of man, and are speeding fast to the Kingdom of Dreams,-that wonderful fantastic Dream- land of which every one has heard so much. Yes, no doubt, that is where you are going. It is the land where Night reigns year in and year out 1-but not the ugly dark mysteri- ous Midnight during which ogres and witches perform their missions of evil. No! no! lt is a much brighter night... The moon and the stars? Undoubtedly you will see them soon. They have not come out yet. By and by we will see them. Oh! Look! Here they are! Oh, how magnificent! how beautiful! There, one by one come out the tiny, silvery, bright little stars. But they are not shaped like those we see from the earth. No! They are perfectly round, like the sun and the moon, but, of course, much smaller. Look! they increase in number. There another one has come out, and here another and another .... What is this that sounds like footfalls! Nearer and nearer moves the objectg louder and louder clatters the noise. Presently it passes in your vicinity, enabling you to catch a glimpse of some being with a lighted torch. This is .the night-watch of Dreamland, employed in the task of lighting

Page 17 text:

SPECTATOR 7 end of the ship. then, in succession. the mast, the cabin, the smoke-stacks, the captain's deck, until finally you can't see the tips of your shoes. Most of the passengers go below, while some of the sailors move quickly about obedient to sudden orders of the officers. The mist now reigns com- pletely on and about the ship. You can touch it with your handsg you see it quite plainlyg you feel its presence by the moisture gathered upon your eyes and on your cheeks, you breath it into your lungs. lt is deadening in its effect: it seems to have hushed every noise. Ha! Wliat is this? A dull, hoarse, monotonous shriek rends the air. Ah, this is the fog-horn. Our ship is signalling and giving notification of her presence to all other vessels within earshot, in order to avoid crashing together. A crash in the midst of the ocean!!! The thought itself is enough to frighten any one. You close your eyes and try to shut out the horrible visiong but all in vain. As if in reality arise before your imagination the recent great sea disasters, both real and literary. You see the great Atlanta burn and sink in the sea. You see the suffering wretches of the Titanic in frail shells of boats, trying to save themselves from destruc- tion. Yes, you witness the heart-rending scenes which must have occurred on the Empress of Ireland. There, in the great vast expanse you see men dodging and coming up againg but alas! each rising brings up far less men than the preceeding one. NVith these harrowing thoughts in mind you bend over the side of the ship and look beneath. At the distance of four feet your eyesight is blocked by the impenetrable gray mantle. But your eagerly-straining ear catches the gurgling sound of waters cut by the nose of the ship. How like the rush of onpouring waves through a gash in the side of the vessel it sounds! You find yourself immediately surrounded by a frantic crowd of hysterical women shrieking for helpg by white-faced sailors running to and fro in a vain effort to establish orderg by men pushing and squeezing each other in the helpless turmoil. You seek to find a way out of the press

Page 19 text:

SPECTATOR 9 the stars. There! the noise ceases, and in that direction shines out another of the ball-shaped stars ...... But how shall I get inside of this charming Dreamland? No doubt, there is a high wall around it. Perhaps some frightful dragon guards its entrance! I haven't even a weapon to defend myself .... Oh! Yes! They surely will send a messenger or guide to bring me in, since they have called me to their land. Ha! that sounds like the footsteps of some one! It cannot be the night-watch, as he has pass- ed in the opposite direction. Surely, surely this is their guide, the winged Mercury. O Mercury! Noble guide! Hither! Here am I awaiting ...... A dull, hoarse, monotonous shriek rends the air. Dis- gusted and utterly displeased with this rude intrusion into your glorious meditations, you give it up, and descend to your stateroom. i An Old Darkey Helen Mathews '16 The firelight cast quaint shadows over the face of the old darkey. Slowly he rocked to and fro, puffing lazily at his corn-cob pipe. He was almost bald. There were, how- ever, two spots of grizzled wool, one directly over his fore- head and the other directly over the nape of his neck. It was curly wool, and faintly resembled small puff balls of cotton. He wore old tortoise shell spectacles, and his mild black eyes, alert and penetrating, glowed with a kindly humor. His cheekbones were broad and rather flat, his nose straight and well-formed, his lips thick but gently molded. His chin was concealed by a short cropped white beard, conforming with the white spots of wool. Physically, he belonged to a line type of manhood. Although now he was feeble, his stature showed that he had once been tall and straight and manly. He was in his shirt-sleeves. There was a patch on one of the sleeves and several ragged tears on the other. His trousers had seen better days. They were