Jackson High School - Osky Wow Yearbook (Jackson, OH)

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 And A Little Child Shall Lead Agnes Hayden quietly closed the door of her luxuriantly furnished bedroom and descended the winding stairway to the floor below. Her hopes of passing her father's study without being noticed were shattered by his appearance in the hallway. “I suppose there’s no use of wishing a good morning to such a sorrowful looking young miss, he greeted the girl. “I suppose not.” “Won’t you come into my 'den' and chat for a few minutes?” “Yes, father.” was the reply. “Couldn’t it be ’dad’ once in a while?” asked Mr. Hayden as the two came into a room wherein, a good many years before, Agnes, as a small child, had sat on her father’s knee and listened to wonderful fairy tales. The daughter looked into the man’s clear gray eyes and ventured to say: “Really — dad — I feel so bad about last night's episode—” “Your apology belongs to your Aunt Ellen, my dear,” was the gentle but firm reply. “Oh, dear,” sighed Agnes as she fingered nervously at her belt buckle. ”1 felt sure you'd say that. After all. dad. you’ll have to admit that Aunt Ellen had no motive whatever for telling Miss Fairbanks 1 would sing for that old charity bazuar. She knows I haven't sung in public since—” A noticeable stiffening of the facial muscles occured and the girl went on: “—since Mother's death.” “You say that with such finality, Agnes.” “I mean it that way. too,” answered a small, quivering voice. “I simply can’t entertain other people when there's no music in my heart. Remember how Mother always accompanied me?” A quick, breathy sound caused the silent man to turn his eyes for the purpose of tying a shoe lace. “I’m glad that is the way you feel,” said Albert Hayden slowly, with special emphasis on the word “that '. His uaugluer’s eyes widened inquiringly. “I was afraid,” resumed the man, “that charity was not among your interests now. Your mother always heiped such enterprises.” “That’s just it,” remarked the other. “I want to forget there ever was such a —a — wonderful person. Everyone will congratulate me at the bazaar and then add, 'My dear, how perfectly like your mother you are. ” “Then you are singing Friday for Miss Fairbanks? inquired the man with his eyes brightening. “Yes, father, I’m going to ’phone her now. Aunt Ellen wins as usual.” School having been dismissed on the afternoon of the Friday bazaar, quite a few young people were among the group at the entertainment. By the permission of the school trustees, eight different booths had been erected along the edge of the high school auditorium stage. In the midst of these structures was an elevated platform with drawn curtains. Behind these enclosures all was excitement as last minute preparations were completed. One of the most helpful persons back-stage was a young girl dressed in a lovely afternoon frock of a soft pink color. Agnes Hayden was pinning, tying, and straightening the costumes of a group of nervous amateur actors. For the first time in eighteen months she was busy enough to be interested in something. Admiring eyes of small children made her heart beat faster and when Miss Fairbanks finally signaled for the curtains to be pulled, the girl was surrounded by a dozen or more little folk, who were with difficulty taken to their various chairs. With the soft strum of banjos and the beautiful melody of a violin as a fitting background. Agnes, the first participant, lightly touched the keys of the school's baby grand piano. As the melodious words of a quaint, familiar song issued from the throat of the girl, an almost breathless hush simultaneously fell upon the audience. A short silence followed the conclusion of the music and then the applause, mingled with whispers, broke from the spectators. “How charming, dear!” said a voice in Agnes's ear as she stepped back of the scenery. Thank you— began the anxious girl and then looking up added, “Oh, Aunt Ellen. I do hope they enjoyed it.” This rather sophisticated lady remarked. “Well, you must be deaf if you aren't sure of it.” After being congratulated by several others. Agnes slipped into a small alcove, formed by the scenery and curtains, and dropped down upon a cushion. She was no longer interested in the program, but she did want someone—anyone—to talk with. “How mistaken I’ve been, sounded and resounded in her cars. I’ve been made happier by being among those children than I ever was by running here and there with the boys and girls my age. Mother, oh. mother, shall I give up what 1 thought was fun. before, for a more settled life?” Agnes was suddenly awakened from her reverie by the touch of something cold against her bare arm. She turned to look into the bright blue eyes of the most beautiful I Page Fifteen

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TOP ROW: W. Lamhfrt. F Lambert. Jen kin . Coy. Havener. Brown. Colby. R. Rlchart. Arthur. H. Evans. James. Callahan. Walter. Graves. Brunton, R. Myers, Kent. Weese. Harper. B. Bennett. Damron. Matthews. Martin. Peart. Shaner. Lamb. Barnes (Adviser), Spohn (Vlce-Pres.). Hunslnger (Sec.). M. Kent (Treas.). W. Kent (President), Pierce. Creative English Club The Creative English Club has a membership of thirty-one, under the supervision of Mr. Vernon Barnes. Its purpose as stated in the club constitution is to encourage the student to write by providing the opportunity, the stimulus and a limited amount of instruction in the art of creative composition . All of the programs, consisting of short plays, pcems, essays, and stories, are written by the students. One of the best assembly programs of the year, was given by this group. A detective story, several poems, limericks, and a class prophecy were a part of the entertainment offered. The Debate Club The purpose of the Debate Club is to foster the art of argumentation and to increase confidence of the student in stage appearance. This year the club has an enrollment of twenty-nine. Each member took part in some debate. The efficient adviser is Mr. Melbra Thornton. I T I N Ci E X A C T M A I. E S w A N ' • VI .»■ Ill' l, ' umri, MVVW mivn, %«ia. Booth. Pfancuff. Harless. Young. Com. Hunter. Henry. Realms. Havener. Nldy. Dixon. MacDonald. Lamb. Rosa. Smith. Thornton. (Adviser). Haynes (President), Hartley (Secretary). Anders. Harris. Callahan. Markay Theatre

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little girl she had ever seen. The child was dressed in a neat blue frock. A small band of white held back a lovely mass of golden curls. From the tip of the tiny hair ribbon bow to the small scuffed tan slippers the child wa3 attractive, and yet. one could tell her clothes were quite worn. •'Pardon me.” said a voice so musical that Agnes started. “Pardon me for staring, she replied at last. “I was staring, too, I guess. said the child, smiling amiably. “Did you wish to see me? asked the older girl. “I’ve already seen you. haven’t I?” Have you?” “Uh — huh — I mean yes, Miss Hayden. I heard you sing. I hope you don’t care that I hunted for you.” Of course not, Agnes assured her. “but suppose we make some introductions now.” My name is Shirley Harrison, said the child promptly. For a moment she appeared quite merry, but then her facial expression changed into a serene angelic look. “I'm delighted to meet you,” smiled Agnes as she studied the child’s countenance. My friends call me ‘Agnes’.” Agnes is such a pretty name, but you sing much prettier than any name could possibly sound.” Shirley remained silent for at least two minutes, then continued. “You sing exactly as — my mother — used to, said a sweetly low voice. Waiting not an instant, the older girl gathered the small possessor of that voice in her arms. Is your mother here? she asked when Shirley was on her lap. Again the angelic look passed over the little girl’s face. My mother live3 in heaven with Father and Jesus now. For one long minute Agnes peered wonderingly into the eyes of the other. Finally she said, “My mother lives there, too.” Does she? asked Shirley. Oh. maybe she knows my mother. Grandmother says Mother and Daddy are having a most lovely time up In the clouds. But I Just know Mother wants to see me as much as I want her. Don’t you pray every night that your mother smiles when she peep3 down through heaven’s window? I think Mother lives right near the big window so that she can look out so very often. What a beautiful philosophy of death!” whispered Agnes as she touched a soft linen handkerchief to her tearful eyes. Does phil-los-o-phy mean something nice?” spoke Shirley. “It does in this case. Tell me, darling, do you never cry and call for your mother and daddy?” The little ones lips curved into a frown as she placed a small Anger over the mouth of the other. No — no — huh — uh,” she said slowly. One must never do that because God Axes everything, so everything has to be Ane.” You’re sure of that?” Oh, yes. Didn't Grandmother read from the big book: ‘Not my will, but thine be done’ ?” With folded hands and uplifted face, the little girl softly spoke these words. Then she smiled adorably and whispered. Please sing me a ‘mother song’. ” Agnes quickly drew the golden head to her bosom and. with tears in her eyes, softly began to hum. From back o’er the years came the memories of her baby days when her own dear mother had sung her to sleep. Then very softly she sang the old familiar cradle song. Brahm’s Lullaby. Several days later a large automobile turned up a fashionable avenue. At a window of the machine was the wrinkled face of an aged lady. Inside, this person was listening to two girls as they took ’turns’ talking. And, dear Granny.” said the younger, “Agnes has the most wonderful piano in the world.” Granny” laughed in a low tone. Are you certain it isn't a radio?” Don't disappoint us. Mrs. Harrison, by saying father can’t Anance Shirley’s music lessons,” pleaded the third member of the party. Can’t you see what she's given to V this once lonely heart of mine?” Yes. dear,” came the reply. Little Shirley’s mother always wanted her to become an accomplished musician. Thus I realize that God’s will has been done. Maxine Kent ’37 Prayer For A ’36 Graduate Father, who In Thy hand doth hold Dominion o'er the fates of men Take not away Thy guardian love Deal we amiss our lives begin. Teach ua that Joy Is not In gold Nor power, unless 'tis used to bear The burden of some weary soul Or lift it up from 'neath its care. Help us to keep our dreams and song And ne'er forget, tho life be long. That always stars shine clear above. That Truth endures and God is love. And let us keep until we die A loyal love for Jackson High. Elizabeth Walters. 36 Page Sixteen