Indiana University - Arbutus Yearbook (Bloomington, IN)

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:□□! 1 EVENING NEAR THE CAMPUS . KARL „r„K,,.„X IX CII.LUWV cluud.s of blue and gold that line The western skies, like royalty ' s rich couch All draped in glory to receive its king, Who, guarded, comes to sleep, — the red sun sinks. It drops, a glowing ball, beyond the woods On yonder hill ; and through that woods of tall Tree trunks it flames like stripes of fire : — A moment rests upon the woodland crest, As if to take one final gaze before Departing, then to nothing slowdy shrinks. Yet, like a memory lingering in the mind. There rests upon the summit of a hill High to the east a glorious crown of light ; And on the hill a home, which seems ablaze. So bright its windows flash their signal fires Back toward the sunken sun that, long before. Had spread the shadows of the western woods Adown the eastern slope, and o ' er the vales. The crows fly west in twos and threes : the larks .■ re hushed, and silent are the thrushes, while The cardinal darts off across the sky To seek its cedar home. In leafy bowers The crooning doves are nestled snug. As if To improvise a milky way on earth. There blinks and flickers down along the vale A stretch of twinkling fire-flies ; and they seem A lake whose trembling waves shake back the light Of stars above. I ' ar through the dampening air The frogs ' clear serenade trills in the dark. The distant headlands fade ; the woods recede ; The nearer copses cower in the dusk ; The fences stretch away into mere dimness ; And last, the western forest slowly blends To darkness. Daunted, all the stars terrene Turn out their feeble lamps ; the frogs all hush. As if to listen to the stillness, and. Listening, forget to sing, and fall asleep. Then night. n DEAri

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THE STUDENT BUILDING FR A I- N 1 E HUME '

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nL HEaiani THE FINDING OF THE ARBUTUS 1 B Y J (.) H X r R I C F. C A R K i 1 As tiie crow flics in tlie evening, it has been a Vtliird of a century since I first saw the Ar- butus in the hills east of Bloomington. Doubtless before this time many men and women had drunk of the fragrance of the little flower, had seen purity in its heart and taken courage, but this was the first time it had its name in the newspaper as being at home in Indiana. The spring of 1878 had been early, then came a blizzard, with a half-foot of snow. I had found the flower one April afternoon; I could not trace it to its proper name; had placed it out of doors for study; then came the storm. But the day of which I write was a perfect day in May. Over all shown the cloudless blue sky. Led by the great teacher, Herman B. Boisen, a party consisting of Judge Robinson, Professor Harris, William Spangler — the poet of the school, who afterward married a farm, a widow with seven children, and a coon dog, in Brown county — a student, whose name I have forgotten, and myself started for the Hurricanes. Near a hun- dred years ago there had been a windstorm through the woods and it had left the name to the wild place. Where the little brook comes from the south, we stopped. At the first draw that comes into this from the east, Herr Boisen threw himself down on the leaves which had gathered there and was telling how much the landscape looked like the Adirondacks when the flower was brought to him with the inquiry: ■■JJ ' clchc Bliimcn 1st JieseF Oh, my dear Carr, he cried, let me embrace you. After he placed the flower to his face and noted its coloring and its fragrance, he continued: I can not be mistaken. It is the Arbutus, the flower of the pilgrims. It was not known before that it grew west of the Adirondacks. From Arbutus Hill we went north to the home of a German from Herr Boisen ' s native land, where supper was served in an orchard with bud- ding blossoms, and later we all went home in a wagon, singing with the joy of youth. r- EiiAj- ' iAir