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Page 16 text:
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8 THE MAGNET A Windy Day AUSING as I passed by the open window I glanced out, and was P greeted with a shrill blast of wind. It was not only cold, but very sharp and biting, whistling through the trees with a shriek unlike any’ earthly sound. The view from the window was very picturesque. The many colored autumn leaves blown from the trees, fluttered here, there, and everywhere,, very beautiful as they fell to the earth, only to be carried up again when. another sudden gust of wind passed hurriedly by. It was very dry, as no rain had fallen for some time.. In the road, the dust blew like a wairlwind.. In people’s eyes, striking against the windows: and houses, this cloud of: sand flew. Dust, dust, everywhere. To those who were out in the whirlwind, it was anything but pleasing. They could: feel, see and taste the gritty sand.. Men.and boys are having great difficulty’ with their hats and caps.. See, here comes a well-worn, late-in-the-season,. straw hat, the property of anmirate old gentleman, who is madly trying to. gain possession of it. It rolls along, stops, as the wind dies down, then at an extra strong puff, is off again to resume its hasty flight. Here we seea little rosy-cheeked fellow, frantically running after his cap. The wind be-- ing the stronger, he is unable to make much progress. At last, however, he manages to capture it, and pursues his. way,.not seeming to mind the chase. Everybody is-hurrying; some not of their own free-will, however. The wind, as it howls and moans in and out among the trees, seems to push the people along, unwillingly. Man and horse alike, walk with their heads held: down for protection from:the sharp:and stinging blast, which seems to cut. their faces. Even the:houses are disturbed; it would almost seem as if they moved: on their foundations. The glass in the windows rattle. The wind, whist-- ling down the chimney, is answered by the fire blazing up with a sudden: start. I leave my position at the window, and pass over to the fire. There. in a comfortable chair, with an interesting book, and some fruit near at hand, I sit,.comfortable and exceedingly contented that I do not have to: journey out on sucha day. VERA M. HOLDEN, ’I5.
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Page 15 text:
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THE MAGNET 7 Dusty and Hot OR two months there had been, with the exception of one or two k showers, no rain. The streets were filled with dust which not even frequent sprinklings of water could lay. The lawns and flower beds were dry and parched and the water from the hose only made it easier for the burning sun to scorch and killthe tenderroots. The great stucco houses loomed up a dusty gray-white mass, topped by glaring red tiles. Nearsome of the houses clumps of dust-covered shrubbery cast hulking shadows. No one, not even a cat ora dog, was to be seen. Contrasting with this silent district, in the hubbub of the part of the city inhabited by foreigners, one saw the pitiful, tiny children playing in the gutters. There in the germ-filed air these little ones were reared, most of them never seeing the cool, green, country. Rooms opened directly from the sidewalk, and there infants and old people gasped for breath. The rooms were filled with dust, and the dust saturated with germs. The fathers and mothers gazed at the stricken dying, and some of the more in- telligent prayed for rain to lay the dust and alleviate suffering. There were also the fruit stands of the Italian merchants, exposed on ali sides to the dust of a passing carriage or automobile. There alone was the cause of numberless deaths and much disease. The railway station was the scene of many fainting fits, much mopping of foreheads, and baby cries. Some of the children, overcome by the heat, slept restlessly. Many people went to the parks. But even there they were enveloped in a cloud of gray dust whenever a passing carriage or automobile afforded it an opportunity of rising. A few little boys were playing in the fountains, the basins of which were filled with stagnant water. Many types of human- ity were represented. There on a bench was a little woman surrounded by her four children, the youngest of whom was sleeping. Farther to the right, near the gate, waS an old man with his wee bit of a faded wife. The suffer- ing seemed to distress them more than the heat, tor they stopped to speak to the mother and the little boys. Then a minister came down the path. His coat was buttoned to his chin and his hat pulled down. His lips were moving rapidly and the people hoped he was praying for rain. Next came a stout Irish woman. Her face was red and perspiring, and her clothes covered with dust. Presently, a self-important politician came along. Some of his cockiness had disappeared and he was occupied with his hand- kerchief instead of his customary cigar. The dust and heat grew continually unbearable until in the late after- noon the tense stillness was suddenly disturbed by a brisk breeze, The dust whirled, and the sky grew black. A rumble, then a flash, and at last, the rain. Thousands of people breathed their gratitude to the Power who was about to send a refreshing shower. ERMA CARTER, ’I5.
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Page 17 text:
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THE MAGNET 9 Tex HE day’s work was finished and, supper having been eaten, we were TT sitting on the cool grass back of the large corn crib. There were five of us, including myself. They were, Tom, our regular man, Jack and Tim, two men who we hired during the harvests, myself and Tex. Tex was our latest addition. He knew nothing whatever about farm- ing, but he had learned remarkably well. He was also our man of mystery. No one knew whence he came or who he was. He had expressed a desire to be called Tex, so Tex he had remained. He was a dark, rather small man, with a curling mustache, and very clever fingers. He had always kept silent as to his past, but at different times I had thought of him as a cowboy—once when he had stuck to the colt after three had been thrown, and another time when he had shot a woodchuck with a worn 44 at a dis- tance at which I could not have hit a barn. It was a typical August evening, and the five of us were smoking, con- tent after a hard day’s work. In the southwest a storm was gathering, and having nothing else to do, we were watching it. The men, except Tex, were discussing thunder showers, their origin, and the freaks that the bolts had wrought. All at once the western sky was cut by a flash of lightning, and just before, the thunder rolled. I heard a smothered sob from Tex on my right. The men were attempting to beat one another in the tales of the storms they had seen. Jack was about to tell of a monstrous storm when, to my surprise, Tex spoke. When he spoke he talked in such a way that one couldn’t help but believe him. “T have been East here for some time now, and I haven’t seen a shower that compares with the last one I saw before I came. I used to be a cow- boy, and one night during the summer I had been placed on duty to watch the cattle at night, I and my pal, Silver. He was a good fellow, and the two of us had stuck together for about six years. We had been on guard for about three hours when the sky began to darken. We had been on the plains long enough to know that there wasalarge storm coming. Thecattle knew too, for they got up and began to snuff the wind and move around uneasily. The storm came very swiftly and was about overhead when a heavy clap of thunder aroused the rest of the cattle. It was our duty to keep the cattle ‘ melling,’ that is to keep them going continually in a circle without going forward, for if once they get frightened and start running straight ahead, there is nothing that will stop them. Anything that cannot get out of the way is trampled upon; and to get stamped on by three thou- sand steers is no trifling experience.” Here, he stopped, and for a moment I thought it was all. But through the semi-darkness I could see him rolling a cigaret He lit it,and the flame showed his dark, lean, face. He then started.
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