Johnstown High School - Spectator Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

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24 SPECTATOR Please sir, said the frightened boy, where am I, and could I have my clothes? I must go back, for to- night I was to pay the lady who takes care of me, and she will think I have gone away without paying-an.' I'm not that dishonest. No, my lad, you can't get up yet, but if you like, I will notify the person of whom you speak, that you are all right-or will be so in a few days. As to your ques- tions, you are in the Blackstone Hotel on Michigan Boulevard. I was hunting for a nephew of mine who lives near Twenty-fifth street when I bumped into you, and as I was the cause of your fall, I just sent for the ambulance and brought you to my apartments here. You see, I live in Pennsylvania and as I have come here for only a few days to find my nephew, I am staying at this hotel. Eddie listened intently. He could hardly wait until the speaker finished before he blurted out: Is your nephew's name Edward Hollywood and did his mother die four days ago? Why yes, the man replied. But how do you know all this? Then I'm your nephew Edward, and you're my Uncle John, cried the child excitedly. Oh, l'm so glad, 'cause you're a nice man and I thought you'd be a cranky one. 4' 14 PF 'F Two weeks later a little boy sat watching the beau- tiful scenery from a train window. Oh, Uncle John, he called, as that person came back from the dining car with a large bunch of green grapes. Just think! I won't see good old Chicago again for years. Oh, yes you will, Sonny Jim! I think I like it my- self, even if there aren't hills there. We will go back for a visit next year and go swimming and have a dandy time. But do you realize that Aunt Mary's waiting for you with two jars full of cookies and jam galore? You will go to school and learn to be a great man and make

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i eSPECTATOR iw in-W 23 A City Urchin Mary F. Kershaw, '20 In one of the tenement districts of the city of Chicago, a little lad of eleven lay on a rickety bed. Oh, Mother! Mother! why did you go and leave me all alone? I worked so hard to earn enough so that you could spend your last days in a nicer place than this. If only you had stayed a little longer so that I could at least have done that for you! he sobbed as he buried his head deeper in the ragged quilt. In the next room on a scantily covered, yet conspicuously clean bed, lay the form of his mother. The wrinkles in her careworn face had disappeared and a faint smile lingered on her lips, as if she knew that at last the quiet peace for which she had waited so patiently had come. A kind neighbor took Edward to stay with her until some definite plan could be formed, and a letter was al- ready on its way to a small town in Pennsylvania, with the hope that it would reach the boy's only known rela- tion, a middle-aged man by the name of Burton. Three days after the funeral of his mother, Edward, feeling cold and miserable, was on his way home after a hard day's work, carrying almost half of his papers un- sold. Turning a corner rather quickly he bumped into a large form and in falling struck his head against the cor- ner of a brick building. When Edward opened his eyes, he was lying in a clean white bed. Oh! how nice it was to the little fellow. He started to sit up but as quickly decided to lie back again. He put his hand to his head and felt soft gauze bandages. He wondered where he was, whom he had bumped, and what they would think of his failure to return home. Not that theyfd care, he said half aloud, but I was to pay her this evening for taking care of me. What's that, sonny? asked a kind voice of the stranger who came into the room.

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SPECTATOR 25 your dear mother proud of you, and of course your Aunt Mary and Uncle John. On Saturdays we'll climb the great hills together and go fishing, and after I get you a horse and teach you to ride, we will take long rides and go nutting in the woods. Don't forget, son, that the hills are waiting for you and for me. Edward turned his head away, his eyes were full of tears, both of joy and of sorrow. He looked up towards the summit of one of the hills across which the golden sunset lay like a robe of glory before it sank to rest, and murmured softly: Oh, mother dear, if only you could be here now and see this, too, Uncle John is so good, and I will make you, dearest mother, so proud of your boy, and Uncle John and Aunt Mary, for they have been so good to me. Woof! Woof! Gertrude Lewis, '19 Trix settled himself lazily upon the only grass plot in the yard and prepared for sleep. Suddenly he raised his head as he heard a pitter, patter, pitter, patter on the walk. Rising, he went to investigate. Woof! Woof! he said saucily. Woof! Woof! came the equally saucy reply ac- companied by a scratching and clawing at the gate. The gate moved. Trix jumped, prepared to fiee if it should prove to be a bigger dog. To his surprise, noth- ing entered-except an animal-long, low, dark, and Deutsch. Why, Trix ! he joyously cried. I've been hunting you everywhere. Why didn't you come back to visit me? Have you so risen in the stage of culture that you forget your old playmates? No, Heinie, it's not that, he answered sadly. I have not risen in the stage of culture since you knew me. I have rather fallen. Do you remember how happy I used