Jefferson High School - Nautilus Yearbook (Lafayette, IN)

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W Brie oaocrizoe Seeking Perfection There is an old story of India that in the beginning all was perfect and all moved in harmonious euphony, until a string in the divine harp snapped, then a meteor flashed, the thunder pealed, and confusion and disorder reigned undisputed. Then from chaos love sprang, setting the disorder to rights and once more clothing the earth in beauty,-but the gods looked and hid their faces and wept: something was lost, something indiscernible and intangible, and they sought and still are seeking. Time has passed since Hrst that story was told. Centuries have gath- ered their children about them and have followed untold centuries, to be buried in oblivion, to moulder in the great tomb of time forever,- but still we seek. The day,s work has been long, nineteen hours have passed since morn- ing came, and looking back they seem as vague and long as the lingering centuries. It has seemed long,--it must have been ages since morning when I arrived at school, and oh, it must have been still longer since I ascended the stairs, ran for three flights and arrived breathless at a classroom door. It wasn't long after that with a rude, No, no, no, oh no, I don't want to live foreverf' I fled down the stairs and seated myself to study. Then I thought of her to whom I had been speaking. She was pretty, so pretty, I thought, as I opened my chemistry. She was good, better than I could ever beg and I loved her, more than anyone else on earth, but--she didn't understand either,-she couldn't understand, then no one could, and I gave up in desperation. A tinkling of a bell, a slamming of books, and a banging of seats brought me quickly to my senses, and I jumped up. I remember nothing further. Already that is buried in the past, but from it sprang like a spectre from the tomb the odd, dull dissatisfaction which lingered with me tonight. During the day I had done my work passably well, I had exaggerated, as was my usual custom, I had been rude as usual, but I hadn't done anything very bad. Wfhy did I seek and long for more? In the morning I had sought comprehension, now I was seeking something even more vainly. Ever since the fall of man he has sought vainly for something, for his lost perfection. Even as I laid my work away, so the untold dead have laid theirs away, sometimes complete, sometimes unfinished, and some- times done but passably well. Are they satisfied, or do they turn and look back wistfully, seeking for that they sought all their lives, some- thing indiscernible and intangible, do they find it thus, I wonder? Only the stars know and only in the deepest hour of midnight do they smile and whisper among themselves, Vain is this seeking. Unbroken perfection is over all. ' -MIRIAM BECK. r i I X PAGE 125

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one DSEICICIIIZUS among the huge cedars and they sought shelter in the tower house. They knew it would be useless to start for home as they might lost their way and freeze. The only light they had was that of a candle which cast lurid shadows in all corners of the room. Suddenly Louise became rigid and screamed. She knew someone was watching them. They peered around into corners until Bob happened to glance at an old picture of the owner of the house and saw the eyes move. He said nothing to the others but walked over to the fireplace, placed his hands on the top and gazed at the picture. Suddenly a door at the side of the fireplace opened. He had accidentally found a secret door. He motioned to Ed for the flash- light, then arming himself with a tong from the fireplace started up the stairs. A crash came from the back part of the house, followed by a dead silence. Bob finally threw off his feeling of apprehension, told Ed to stay with the girls, and started upstairs again. The room in which he found himself was large and lofty with long, narrow windows and rich old draperies musty with age. Bob pulled aside a piece of tapestry and found the wall covered with fantastic figures expressing the loneliness of man. In the farthest corner stood a table on which were tea, bread and cakes. Expectantly beside it stood a man. XWhy have you come here? he dryly queried. We sought refuge from the storm here and the girls were frightened. I saw the eyes move in the old picture and started to investigate. The man laughed and replied, You saw my eyes. Didn't mean to scare you so, I just wanted to see if there was any danger of me being detected. I gained fame in my own country as an artist but when I came to America I traveled everywhere and was unknown. Wfhen I reached Burlington my funds were nearly exhausted. By accident I learned about this house and the fear the people have of it. Thinking it a good refuge I took possession immediatelyf, But what was that terrific noise that I heard a few moments ago? asked Bob. I shall explain everything. First, bring up your friends that they may refresh themselves on what little food there is left. 'tBut what about the lights and the howling noises? Weren't you afraid? asked Louise. He smiled and replied, No. I brought precious gems and rich cover- ings with me from Europe and fearing their discovery hid them in the chimney. The wind howling through the chimney makes the very wierd noises you heard. A while ago the roof of one of the towers caved in because of the great weight of the heavy snow.', 'tBut the light, where is it?', cried Louise. Oh, yes, that must have been the nights I went in search of my brushes. As I neared the windows the candle invariably went out. That is the only account I can give for it.', Rosemary rose suddenly exclaiming, So these are the mysteries of the Tower House. W In i 52 I n l I CCCCC ppp E if Q 1 E PAGE 124

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CC Y . - ,, EE M mm m . , one DQGCIIIUS lf! I I F1 l 'I A M S ll ay ong 93 1 1 if - The air of May was clear and sweet, i I The stars of May were gold, My song into the glorious night A lyric beauty told. , s 'a i The skies of May were cool and dark, , ,, The hills were softly green, in I I knelt and offered up my soul 93 Q As a gift to the Beauty Queen. l' A The breath of May was incense rare, A Far wafted on the breezeg Commingling odors from each flower In perfumed harmonies. I found so much of loneliness It caused the tears to start, Nor knew I why, unless it was I The beauty in my heart. -CHRISTINE E. MARXSON, ,28. i S S E fm - E PAGE 126