Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

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THE MAGNET 13 That Egg A True Story HIS story happened in the year 1844, at the time when the Second Adventists were preparing for the end of the world. At that time William Hedges, a lad of nine years, was living with his grandparents, who made their home along the Connecticut River. Billy, as he was called, had heard the villagers talk about how the world was coming to an end and of their preparations. Now he thought it would be great sport to go to church, dressed in a white robe; but his grandmother and grandfather thought this belief was ridiculous, so there seemed no chance for Billy to join. One night Billy lay in bed, trying to think of a scheme to make his grandparents join the Adventists. After thinking as hard as possible, an idea popped into his mind. He then said, “I have it.” With these words on his lips he fell asleep. Billy was an exceedingly early riser, but the next morning he awoke an hour before his usual time. He slipped on his clothes and crept softly down the back stairs, so that he would not awaken the other members of the family. He then went to the hen-house and secured three of the best eggs he could find and brought them into the kitchen, where he melted a candle and poured the hot tallow in letters over the egg. When the tal- low had hardened, he placed the egg in a bowl of vinegar. On removing the egg, he found it had changed color, so when the tallow was taken off it left an embossed effect on the egg. Having finished his experiment, he held the egg up and read what he had written. It did not suit him, so he tried it again. This time he wrote it in pencil first, then put the hot tal- low over the pencil lines. Now, when he held it up, he read in clear letters, “End of the world, October, 1844.” Billy took the egg and placed it under old Speckle, the hen, and has- tened back to the house. On entering the kitchen he heard some one com- ing, so he put the two eggs, one of which he had experimented with, in the top drawer of an old chest. Just as he shut the drawer his grandmother came in. She had decided to have eggs for breakfast, so the first thing to do was to go out and get them. When she returned she showed Billy a most peculiar looking egg with the words, “End of the world, October, 1844,” written on it. “What does this mean? Has the Lord sent it?” she asked. That morning at breakfast she showed it to her husband, who was sur- prised and thought it must be from the Lord. After breakfast they thought it over, and finally came tothe conclusion that the Adventists were right, after all. Billy’s grandmother started to make their robes, as the date which was set came in two days. At the appointed hour, all the Adventists gathered inthe church. They waited and waited, until it was morning; then they decided to go home and

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12 | THE MAGNET went to bed that night he made a resolution to give Bill’s money back the very first thing in the morning. But the next day he could not find Bill. And soon a rumor spread over the college, which later became a pronounced fact, that Bill Laton had been expelled. What was the cause? Only a few of the fellows knew. And so the days dragged by until the very sight of a bill made Bert shiver. Sometimes he wandered around the campus, searching for some- thing he could neither name nor find. ‘At other times he sat staring gloom- ily out of the window. He could neither study nor enjoy himself, but that detestable bill came before his eyes. If he hid it in his room, he was always sure some one was peeping througn the key-hole. If he carried it in his pocket, he had horrible visions of fingers pointing at him, and it seemed as if his companions looked at him queerly and talked about him the minute his back was turned. Oh, the horror of those dreadful nights, when hand-cuffs, cold, dismal cells, and long newspaper items made his dreams hideous! And so two weeks passed. Spring lay glistening, quivering, trembling on every leaf and twig. The tall, gaunt branches of the trees were beginning to thrust tiny shoots of green and the dewy fragrance of freshly mowed lawns was wafted in the April breeze. Never was there such a blue, blue sky nor such a dazzling radiance of sunshine. Robins chirped, school-boys whistled merrily; every one seemed to have caught the spirit of spring but Bert Redding. All things are dark to sorrow; and the light and loveliness and fragrant air had no effect on Bert. Sometimes, as he walked slowly down the shady street, he fingered ner- vously a ten dollar bill; at ot her times, he seemed plunged in deep thought. Turning into the feverish hum of the city, he was attracted by a little girl wearing a big Salvation Army bonnet. In one hand was acard reading, “Please Help The Poor;” in the other was a tiny box. For an instant Bert’s face brightened. He hesitated, then, turning, he slipped the hated ten-dol- lar bill into the box before the astonished little girl could gasp out her thanks. “Flow beautiful the world is, after all,” thought Bert as he walked briskly back to his room. It seemed as if he had just emerged from a thick, black cloud. He dared now to look people in the face. He drew long, deep breaths of the fragrant air and once caught himself whistling. When he reached his room he sat down and wrote a long letter to his father, the last of which was: “ Now, dad, I’ve told you everything, from beginning to end. I know I don’t deserve to have an honest business man for a father, nor to be the eldest brother to four other lads. And I am willing to bear any punishment you think best. But there’s one thing I beg of you: Please don’t tell mother. “ Your loving son, “ RERTio HELEN WOODBURY, ’II. ’

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14 THE MAGNET get something to eat. When Billy and his grandmother and grandfather reached home, they began to think that the world was not coming to an end, and how foolish they had been. But they could not understand how the egg got there. | One day Billy’s grandmother went to the old chest for something, and the first thing she saw was the two eggs lying in the corner. She called Billy to see if he knew anything about the eggs. Poor Billy had to say, “Ves.” He was asked to tell the whole story about the eggs, which he did, after a moment’s hesitation. ‘You just wait until your grandfather comes in,’ said William’s grandmother. And poor Billy waited. CLARA L. PATON, ’12. My Experience Hunting Hedgehogs Y last summer’s vacation was spent with my friend Lena, on my uncle’s farm in New Hampshire. From the green fields, the shady woods and the large orchards, I brought home many pleasant remembrances. | Of these, I shall forget many as the time goes by; but the one that I am going to tell you will probably never pass out of my mind. It was a cool August morning when Uncle sent Cousin Paul into the shed to get some wood. He went, but soon we heard him cry, “Papa, come here, quick! quick!!”’ Lena and I went out with Uncle and there we saw poor Paul, trembling all over, pointing to the shed. We looked in and there we beheld a black animal about thirty inches long. Uncle seemed to know what it was, for he took a heavy stick and went for it. He aimed for its head and soon the creature was dead. Stepping nearer, we saw that the hedgehog—for that is what it was—had quills about three inches long. Cou- sin Paul, and also his smaller brother, Raymond, had forgotten their fear and cried, ‘‘We must have the funeral now!’ So Uncle agreed to conduct the funeral, and Lena and I promised to sing. A string was now tied to poor Mr. Hedgehog’s foot, and the boys dragged him along to his burial place. This was the first time I had ever seen a hedgehog. On the evening of the same day, after the boys had been put to bed, Uncle asked us girls to go out for a walk. Lena was very much interested in a book and did not wish to go, so I went alone with him. It was a beau- tiful night; the moon was shining, and it was very light out. Enjoying the cool, clear night air, we followed the path that leads to the orchard. Sud- denly, Uncle stopped and said, “Listen.’’ I did so, and I heard a strange noise that seemed to come from the direction of the sweet apple tree. We stepped as quietly as we could up to the tree, and there Uncle pointed to a branch, where I could dimly distinguish something black. Then he whis- pered, “That’s a hedgehog. He’s eating our apples. I am sorry I haven’t a gun in the house; but you go and get me a club like the one I used this