Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

Page 16 text:

10 THE MAGNET A few minutes later she returned and added a little to each glass. We passed the things, and then warned the girls if they didn’t help themselves they would have to go hungey. Finally we were seated comfortably, ready to enjoy the cool drink. “Mercy!” almost shouted Mrs. Cranford, “what has gone into this stuff? ‘Then looking at the bottle she sank limply back in her chair, ©Schlitz’s Beer.” HELEN C. RICHARDSON, '12. Les Lis Rouges CHAPTER | ‘No, Miss Forsythe,” replied the doctor. He was a large, well-built man of thirty, with light hair and blue eyes. People trusted him instinctively because of his kindly, resolute face. June Forsythe was his assistant. She kept his accounts and helped in many other ways about the office. Tall, dark, and graceful, she drew the eyes of many people, but she was sweet and unspoiled. She had been in Dr. Barrow’s office nearly ayear. She had grown to like him more than she was willing to admit even to herself. And never by word or look had any one guessed her feeling—least of all the doctor himself. Having a few moments’ leisure, she sat down by the open window with her embroidery. She was working a sofa pillow which had a beautiful though unusual design of red lilies. She had been working for some time when Dr. Barrow turned from his desk to look out the window into a neigh- boring rose-garden. As his glance fell on the sofa pillow, he started. ‘“Why, Miss Forsythe, where did you get so unusual a design ?” “Where ? Why—I—it is my own drawing!” His sudden question startled her. ‘It is for my younger sister. I thought she would like it, for lilies like this grow in a swamp back of our old Southern home. I have never seen any except there.” ‘Most likely not!’ was all Dr. Barrow said as he wheeled around to his desk again. June laid her work in her lap. ‘“ What is the matter?” she thought. ‘“ Lilies like this do grow down home. And it visn’t like Dr. Barrow to make fun of people.’ Tears rushed to her eyes, but she winked them back. ‘‘Miss Forsythe, did they look like these ?”’ holding a book towards GG I THERE nothing more to do, Dr. Barrow ?”’ her. ‘Just the same, only perhaps a little darker red.” ‘Well, why I asked is because a Mr, Paul of Washington has offered fifty dollars apiece for every bulb of the Lis Rouges that is brought him.

Page 15 text:

THE MAGNET 9) break the seal. In your haste and anxiety you almost tear the sheet. What! is it possible? You have passed all except one examination. You are entirely happy, and begin to think that perhaps board exam. week has it joys as well as its sorrows. A Queer Combination A True Story T WAS a hot sultry afternooon in the latter part of August. A perfect I day to sit still and endeavor to keep cool, but such could not be the case with Ruth Phillips, Louise Rich and myself. We had made up our minds to go to make a call, and call we would and must. We were sensible enough, however, to wait until the latter part of the afternoon, when it was a trifle cooler. About four we started out along a shady country road. Not far away we could hear the beat of the great ocean on the rocks; for the road we were traveling ran parallel to the beach. We were tired enough to rest a bit when we had reached the top of Ferry Hill. From here there was a beautiful view; off in the distance was the Miles Standish monument in Duxbury, and in the other direction a vast expanse of ocean, dark and cold, as is always the case, for a few days, after a northeast storm. Finally recovering our breath, we trudged along in the dust of the road until we came in sight of the house; and that large, cool veranda did look good to us! Our hostess, Mrs. Cranford, came out immediately and greeted us most cordially. You can imagine that when she said, ‘‘ You’re tired, every one of you. Won't you have a drink to cool you off ?”’ there was not a negative answer in the three replies. She turned to me then and said, ‘‘ Would you mind helping me a little? Victoria is ironing.” Victoria is an old colored ‘“‘mammy”’ who has lived in the. Cranford family fora long, long time. She was once a slave, when she was quite young. Now she is unable to read and write. Mrs. Cranford arranged a tray ready to be carried to the porch. There were four tumblers, each in its holder, a plate of wafers, and one of cake, besides a dish of Bailey’s. She next brought out a bottle of grape-juice and one of ginger ale. “Fill the glasses about a third full with the grape juice, please,” she said, “and then fill them up with the ginger ale.” I did this, and was about to carry the tray out, when she said, You don't give full measure. I should hate to have you for my grocer. Wait a minute till | get another bottle of ginger ale from Victoria.

Page 17 text:

THE MAGNET II Many people have brought him bulbs which have proven false. There was great rejoicing a year ago, for the bulb was thought to have been found; but when it was fully opened, it hada black heart. They are searching for them all over the world. In aswamp, you say! I wonder why they have not been found by the horticulturists ?”’ “It is private land, Dr. Barrow. My. great-uncle lives there. He cares not for flowers, but does care if people trespass on his land. He is very stern, even savagely cruel; so people leave his land alone.’’ “Ah, Isee! But you could getto them. Were there many?” “There were quite a few, but I could not get them.” “You must.” ‘‘No, my uncle is very angry with me. He once cursed me, forbidding me to ever set foot on his land again.” At this moment Miss Forsythe was obliged to answer the door bell. A messenger boy stood on the steps. “ A telegram for Miss Forsythe.’ She signed and stepped back into the office. She could not help shaking, for she had never had a telegram before. She opened it and read : Your uncle, Charles D. Forsythe, dead. Béqueaths property to you. Come soon as possible, [Signed] Ludwig James, N. P. June sank nerveless in the nearest chair and held out the telegram to the doctor. ‘“ The Red Lilies,” she gasped. CHAPTER II ‘There, Miss Forsythe, you may rest here. Noone will ask you any more questions,” said Dr. Barrow as he sank into his chair in the Pullman, which was taking him and June south to Tennessee. Yes, Doctor, thanks to your help we got off quickly and quietly.” “Home! home! How sweet the magnolias smell! It is eight years since I’ve been here, Doctor. They seem like centuries. Listen to the nightingales! Wasn't it nice that we could get the old servants back? It seems so homelike and you won’t have to stay at the hotel.” So June and Dr. Barrow staid on at the old homestead. One morning after breakfast June said, ‘Well, Dr. Barrow, since you go home this week, I promise that you shall see the lilies today. Put on your heavy shoes, for the patch is exceedingly rough.” This was not the first walk they had taken since coming south, they had become more acquainted and were excellent companions. Each hid all emotion from the other—the doctor because he felt he did not hold a position high enough to marry, June because she felt her love unrequited. At last they came to the swamp. Inthe dampest, most ugly spot bloomed the lovely giant lilies. All around them were bogs of grayish peat- like moss. It made a striking contrast with the wide red cups of the lilies. “Oh, you darlings!’’ were June’s first words. Down she went on her knees in the wet, caressing each separate flower. Dr. Barrow stood drink-