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Page 18 text:
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12 THE MAGNET began a series of strange performances. His head was immersed in a bucket of water, and-—but I must not disclose the secrets of the order. After the candidate had been bruised and bumped and instructed in the mysterious art of smoking, a badge was fastened upon him, proclaiming to every one that the wearer was a member of the mystical order of H. T. O. L. Mr. and Mrs. Ropes were by no means impressed by this mark of dis- tinction. Mrs. Ropes said, ‘‘ James, for goodness sake, take that tin thing off. Why, pa, come here and look at this child. He is all bruised. Where have you been, James?” Jimmie maintained a sullen silence and marched off to bed supperless, with the heroic thought that he was suffering for the good of the cause. Next Saturday he went to lodge as a member in good standing. The business before the house, as stated by Nat Saunders, Chief Terror, was, ‘RESOLVED: That Farmer Noyes is defying the boys of the town, as he has left a pile of brush all summer in his field.” “And say, boys, it’s as dry as tinder. Let’s set it afire tonight.” Accordingly, at dusk several silent figures were skulking around Farmer Noyes’ brush pile. ‘I tell you, boys, what let’s do. You're Indians, and I’m the chief. We'll have a grand pow-wow. No one can see the fire, because it’s behind the hill.” The fatal torch was applied, and the first annual pow-wow of the club was celebrated. But there was an unseen audience. Farmer Noyes had occasion to pass the mill, and had heard the conspirators. The village con- stable, plowing near by, was pressed into service, and although his badge was minute, alongside of the insignia of the H. T. O. L., it had unquestion- ably greater power behind it. ‘When the glorious pow-wow was at an end, and only embers marked the place of the festivities, the unseen audience, which had been suppressing its laughter with difficulty, stepped out. The constable said in his official voice, ‘‘ Glad to see you enjoying yourselves, boys. Have you had all the fun you want? It's my turn now. I arrest you in the name of the law for wantonly and mischievously destroying and causing to be destroyed, on the property of the rightful owner thereof, PID SE belonging to his heirs and assignees—— ’ ‘In other words,” interrupted the farmer, ‘‘you’ve burned my brush.” What an ignominous ending for a celebration-—-to be led through the village like murderers and criminals ! ‘Oh, please, Mr. Constable, don’t arrest us,” cried Jimmie, in a plea, seconded by all the members. “Well, Pll tell you, boys, if you promise to go home and tell your parents, I’ll let you off this time, providing, of course, Mr. Noyes agrees.” Mr. Noyes, after much pondering and ejaculations, such as, ‘ Well, I don’t know,” etc., agreed, and the members of the glorious H. T. O. L. went home and to bed. Farmer Noyes, in telling hls wife the incident, added, “I was going to— burn that pile today myself, but I didn’t quite get around to it.” F. P. Kehew, ’09. A
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Page 17 text:
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THE MAGNET II The Way of the Transgressor IMMIE ROPES sat on the back steps, Tuesday, bemoaning his fate. J Disregarding utterly the pile of wood that must be sawed, and the corn that must be husked, he sighed wearily at the thought, ‘‘ There is nothing to do.” “IT could sit here from now till doomsday, and nothing would happen,” he said. “If only a circus would come by, or even an automobile. What is the use of living, anyhow ? The same old grind, and an end to fun when school begins next week.” “ But what was that coming down the road? Nota circus, or an auto; but something just as good, or even better—Nat Saunders.” With a whoop of joy Jimmie rushed down the path, jumped lightly over the fence, and cried, ‘‘ Hey, Nat, come over to the house. Everybody’s gone to town!” This last piece of information was very necessary, for who would let Nat Saunders, that reprobate, come into his house ? Why, surely, there wouldn't be one stick on top of another when he left. ‘“‘T will just step in a minute,” sald Nat, condescendingly. ‘‘ I just came to see you on a little matter of business.” “Oh!” gasped Jimmie, partly in awe and partly at the sight of a great badge that his visitor wore. ‘ What’s that?” “Sh!” whispered Nat. ‘‘Don't say anything. Come into the barn and I'll tell you.” When the two were comfortably seated on the hay-mow, and after Jim- mie had crossed his heart and vowed he'd die if he ever told, Nat solemnly informed him that the letters “H. T. O. L.” stood for ‘‘Holy Terrors of Lebanon,” and that he had come as a special messenger to ask Jimmie to join. Would he join? Well, who wouldn’t do anything to wear such a badge as Nat wore? Why, it was larger than a policeman’s badge and certainly “shined” inore. Accordingly Jimmie was commanded by the C. T., what- ever that meant, to present himself for initiation, Saturday afternoon, at the old mill. How the days crawled by until Saturday ! Why had Nat told him Tues- day and kept him in suspense for almost a week? Finally the eventful day came, fortunately a clear one, and the candidate crept under the bars, down the field, to the mill. He shivered noticeably, for the mill was said to be haunted, such dolorous and horrible noises and groanings had been heard there lately. Suddenly the door was opened, just as Jimmie reached it, and a strong arm caught him by the collar and threw him down, down, until he landed somewhere—he thought it must be in the infernal regions, for standing around in solemn silence were grotesque figures with masks of black. Not a moment’s rest was allowed him. Unseen hands blindfolded him, and then
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Page 19 text:
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THE MAGNET 13 The Hero LANG! Clang! Clang! sounded the fire-bell on board the steamship “Cedrino,” sixty-three miles from land. It was the middle of the night. All was confusion. Men, women, and children, dressing hurriedly, crowded on deck to learn the cause and get out of danger’s way. The cap- tain and his crew were busy fighting the fire, which had suddenly broken out in the engine-room. Only one man, the ship’s lieutenant, remained calm and self-possessed, as he stopped to speak encouragingly to the girl he had put in the doctor’s charge, and then hastened away to superintend the work of the men using the fire-extinguishers. The crew worked valiantly for an hour, but all the time the fire increased, until the captain gave orders for the boats to be lowered. Lieutenant Mayo was in charge, and the boats were rapidly filled. But ore quickly did the flames eat their way to the deck. When Mayo came back to the place where Miss Elwood had been standing, his eyes clouded with disappointment. Of course, she was sensible to have gone on with the rest ; but, somehow, he had hoped she would wait to the last with him: It was generally known among the passengers of the “Cedrino” that the young lieutenant was brave, so it did not surprise the rest of the crew, looking back, to see Dick rowing about the mass of flames to see if any one had been left on board. Suddenly the sailor heard a cry for help. He could not see the person, but he had a vague instinct that he ought to go on board and try to save her Then came the thought, ‘‘ How useless it will be.” Still he did not feel right to go without making the attempt. What was he to do? Would he leave the person to her doom, or would he try to save her and most surely lose his own life besides? This was a problem. Now he thought of the dear one with the other passengers in the boats. Did not his life belong to her? Had he aright to risk it? He gripped the oars and turned from the ship, now one great mounting sheet of flame. Starting to row towards the people, he heard a great shout and ‘ ‘ Three long cheers for Mayo” ring over the water. A great flush of joy came into his face as he realized that She was among them, and that She was proud. And then, clear, insistent, reproachful, there sounded in his heart the cry of the woman on the ship, with suddenly in it a note that was familiar—a note, an accent, that he loved. His face grew pale, his eyes stared hopelessly ' ahead ; for, all at once, he had come to know whose face would be missing in the wildly cheering group. Karl D. Lee, 10. Instructor: Mr. Smith, kindly name the bones of the skull. Student Smith: Well, sir, ve got them all in my head, but I can’t think of their names just now.—The Bohemian.
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