Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

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THE MAGNET 13 “If you only would tell where they’re hid,” she whispered. Slowly, with dignity, the stately old warrior stepped down from the frame. His sword rattled against his armorashe moved. He stood beside her; and a smile, almost kindly, played over the stern face. “Child,” he said, “look in the cellar, the southeast corner, behind the old vegetable bin. Five feet deep in the wall, they are hid.” Fascinated, her eyes followed his receding figure. Slowly, almost im- perceptibly, he moved; and the clank, clank of his armor mingled with the muffled strokes of the old clock. The moonlight had shifted, and he van- ished into shadow. Again her eyes followed the moon rays until they rested on her travel- ing cloak, thrown over a chair. A mingled sense of muffled voices and confused noise came from'the great hall. Some one called hername. The overwhelming, sickening thought came to her that it was time to leave it all. Dreamingly she rose and wrapped the great cloak about her, opened the long French window, and stepped out on the moon-bathed terrace. The family coach stood ready. Her husband was speaking in a low voice to the watchman. Lisa, heavily wrapped, was huddled in a corner, her child eyes big with excitement. At the creaking of the window her husband came to her, and they stood for a moment looking for the last time at the place they had known so well. Then they climbed into the carriage. The moonlight still fell on the ancient chateau, and under the portal the flickering gleam of a lantern in old Lambayo’s trembling hand lighted up the faces of the loyal little group of retainers.—AJ. When Hezekiah Found His Voice T was on acalm, cool night in August when Hezekiah Hornspraddle, dressed in his best light pea-green suit and swallow-tailed collar, for the hundredth time vowed he would propose to Saphrona Hingsby that night or never speak to her again. Hezekiah was a good-natured, but rather phlegmatic son of a well-to-do farmer and had “been a-courtin’”’ Saphrona for nearly a year, but could never find his voice to pour forth his love. So on this particular night he sallied forth determinedly and with falter- ing steps arrived at her house. As it happened, there were but two chairs in the room, are the one he picked out was incapable of holding his one hundred and fifty pounds; fur- thermore, there happened (?) to be only enough oil in the lamp to last about ten minutes. After the usual greetings Saphrona resumed her knitting and Hezekiah began twirling his fingers and counting the rings in the carpet. Becoming

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12 THE MAGNET The Silver Apostles It had not been used, except for great occasions, since the time of Gustavus Adolphus, when the great wave of Protestantism had swept over the country. Only the iron cross embedded in the wall above the altar recalled the days when the knights and ladies of the manor had come to seek guidance and rest in the dimness of the place. A little girl was playing now among the dusty pews with their faded, moth-eaten cushions, and a slight, dark-haired woman leaned against the altar rail. There was deep sadness in the eyes that glanced about from one thing to another. Now the child was down on her knees, pulling up broken pieces of the floor; and her voice, breathless with excitement, called, ‘‘Oh! I’ve found the statues. Please do come quick.” But the woman’s face did not brighten as she answered, “ No, Lisa, dear; don’t try any more. I started that place myself, years ago, when I first came to the castle. It is probably only a story. There probably were no Statues.” “But it says so in the big red book. Great-grandfather hid them when he went to the wars, and they were all silver and ever so much higger than me. Do help, mamma, so we won't have to go to that old America.” “Dear, there are no statues there. Come and help me pack, else some of your playthings will surely be left behind, and that would never do.” So with one last look back they went out through the long dark corri- dor into the great square hall. Here all was confusion. Trunks and boxes were being strapped and nailed. Others were only in the process of being packed. They watched the old housekeeper as she put in, one after another, old familiar things that seemed to revolt at this strange indignity. It grew dark. The lights were lighted, and the packing went on. Lisa was put to bed, that she might not be too tired for the long ride to the seaport town. They were to start the next morning, and it was already late. The countess felt that she must rest. Her husband was busy with final arrange- ments for leaving . She went down into the old blue room to steal a little nap. It was her favorite room She loved every piece of furniture in it— the faded damask-covered chairs, the deep recessed windows with their heavy curtains, the old cabinet, but, above all, the portrait of the gentle lady whom she resembled so much, they said. She threw herself on the couch beneath it now; and the sweet eyes seemed to look down and under- stand. 3 The moonlight fell through the drawn curtains and cast strange shad- ows about the room. She followed the rays of light until they rested on the portrait of the old ancestor of the wars. There her gaze lingered imploringly. (Cie chapel of the ancient Swedish chateau was musty and unkept.

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14 THE MAGNET more agitated, he wound his arms around the back of the chair and his legs around the rungs and finally blurted out: ‘‘Saphrona, er— er— I’ve come tonight to ask. you— er— don’t you think that clock is fast?” | “No, Hezekiah,” said she, patiently. “You know that I— er— er— I always— er— have liked— er— to see you knitting,” he said, as the cold sweat began to gather on his forehead. Just at this point the light went out; and the astonished Hezekiah tried to stand up hurriedly, with the result that the chair, ‘‘ strained beyond its elas- tic limit,’ crashed in a heap, like the famous ‘‘one-hoss shay.” Saphrona sprang up; but, as she could see nothing and heard only an agonizing groan, she fainted (?) dead away, falling limply into the arms of Hezekiah, who by this time had become sufficiently disengaged from the wreck to stand up. He held her (indescribable joy) and poured forth his story in eloquent words, beseeching her to come back to him, which she promptly did, sur- prised, no doubt, by Hezekiah’s awakening. Snap-shots East Side A long, long row of dirty tenements; a long, long stretch of dirtier street. Sixteen children before one door. An old, white-haired man, tot-— tering along with his pail, and a poor, pulled speck of dirty dog. Men with huge packs; and women, in shawls, with rumpled hair. Foreign signs everywhere,—foreign signs, and noise and dirt. Some one opensa blanket- stuffed window and throws some paper down to the street. The old man totters back with his dog and his pail. He leans on the fence, smiling at every one, shaking his finger at the children, pretending to chase them. Tired looking women, with towels around their heads, stand in the door- ways and gossip together. w w The Hudson at Early Dawn A silver stretch of river; boats, gurgling in the tide; a few lights, - twinkling in the dusk of the opposite shore; the sudden flash of the Tarry- town light; and a dead rose sky above. wo The Hudson in a Thunder Storm Black clouds, jagged swords of lightning; long veils of spray blown up the river; leaden waters, rolling masses of white caps; boats, rocking with rage in the tide. AB.