Leominster High School - Magnet Yearbook (Leominster, MA)

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6 THE MAGNET “«T beg your pardon, Old Glory,’ I said, ‘aren’t you mistaken? JI am not the President of th e United States, nor a member of Congress, nor even a general inthe army. I am only a Government clerk.’ “ T greet you again, Mr. Flag Maker,’ cried the gay voice. ‘I know you well. You are the man who worked in the swelter of yesterday, straightening out the tangle of the farmer’s homestead in Ohio, or perhaps you found the mistake in that contract in Oklahoma, or helped clear that patent for the hopeful inventor in New York, or pushed the opening of the new ditch in Colorado, or made that mine in Illinois more safe, or brought relief to the old soldier in Wyoming. No matter; whichever one of these beneficent individuals you may happen to be, I give you greeting, Mr. Flag Maker!’ “T was about to pass on when the Flag stopped me with these words: ““« Vesterday the President spoke a word which made happy over ten mil- lions of peons in Mexico; but that act looms no larger on the Flag than the struggle which the boy in Georgia is making to win the corn-club prize this summer. | “«Vesterday the Congress spoke a word which will open the door of Alaska; but a mother in Michigan worked from sunrise until far into the night to give her boy an education. She, too, is making the flag.’ ‘«But,’ I said, impatiently, ‘these people were only working.’ “Then came a great shout from the Flag: ‘The work that we do is the making of the flag! Iam not the flag; not at all. I am but its shadow. I am whatever you make me; nothing more. I am your dream in yourself; your dream of whatever a people may become. I live a changing life, a life of moods and passions, of heartbreaks and tired muscles. Sometimes I am strong with pride when men do an honest work, fitting the rails together truly. Sometimes I droop, for then purpose has gone from me, and cynically I play the coward. But always I am all that you hcpe me to be and have the courage to try for. I amsong and fear, struggle and hope. I am the battle of yesterday and the mistake of tomorrow. ‘“ T am no more than what you believe me to be, and I am all that you believe I can be. JI am what you make me; nothing more. I swing before your eyes as a bright gleam of color, a symbol of yourself, the pictured sug- gestion of that big thing which makes this nation. My stars and my stripes are your dreams and your colors. They are bright with cheer, brilliant with courage, firm with faith, because you have made them so out of your hearts. For you are the maker of the flag, and it is well that you glory in the mak- ing.’” M. ETHEL Ryan.

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THE MAGNET Vol. VIII. LEOMINSTER, MASS., OCTOBER, 1914. No. 1 Entered as second class matter at Post Office at Leominster, Mass. EDITORIAL STAFF Epitor-In-CHIEF, M. Erwev Ryan, ’15. Business MANAGER, GEORGE W. JONES, ’IS. Exchange Editor, EstHer HULL, ’15. School Notes’ Editor, InMA CarTER, ’I6. Alumni Notes’ Editor, Mary Louise RICHARDSON, ’I5. Jokes’ Editor, Guy VonDELL, ’I5. Athletics’ Editor, ALBERT G. Lauzon, ’I5. Assistant Business Manager, RALPH BAKER, ’16. Published monthly during school year by pupils of the High School. Subscription price, 50 cents; single copies, Io cents. Ry rer REP VET OW that we see Old World countries, struggling,.and op- pressed in cruel war, a new sentiment arises within us. It is something more than common patriotism, more of mingled ad- miration for our invincible country, and loyalty to our glorious flag. Secretary Lane, of the Department of the Interior, gave, in a Flag Day address, the following allegory, which I think expresses this sentiment in a forceful manner: “This morning as I passed into the Land Office the Flag dropped me a most cordial salutation, and from its rippling folds I heard it say,— “ Good morning, Mr. Flag Maker.’ 5

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THE MAGNET N All on Account of Solomon H was a little fellow, small in every way, and the proud possessor of sparkling black eyes, a ruddy complexion, and pearly white teeth. This personage was Solomon-—just plain Solomon, elevator boy at “The Sheldon.” He had never been known by any other name, for it was extremely hard to keep track of all the boys who came and went at “ The Sheldon.” His blue uniform, shining with brass buttons, hung on him as on a scarecrow, for the management never stopped to think but what this one suit would fit each and every boy, whether fat or thin. It was winter, and the snow was falling fast outside. Solomon stood with his turned up nose against the steamed window pane watching the gaily lighted taxicabs darting to and fro. But this was an old story. He was uneasy. He had an idea. Why not jolly Central? and seating himself at the telephone booth near the elevator, he lifted the receiver. ‘Hello, Central, how are you?” Pause. ‘Yes, it’s the same one, with the dreamy eyes and the blonde hair.” Pause. “Yes, yes, I’m stopping at ‘ The Sheldon.’ Another pause. “Well, ’ll meet you corner Broadway and Forty-second Street.” “Good-bye.” A sharp ring caused Solomon to hasten to the door, and he admitted a sweet faced girl covered with snow. She was the occupant of Room 15, on the fifth floor, and known to Solomon as the “fifth floor back.” “ Sleeping again, Solomon? I rang several times.” “No, just having a little fun with Central, that’s all. Sorry I kep’ yer waitin’, Miss Shepherd.” Oh, that’s all right, Sol. Any calls for me?” “No, not any telephone calls,’ responded Solomon, and, looking cau- tiously around, he added, “but “e called.” ‘What are you talking about!” exclaimed the girl. “Well, a young man called to see you, and I told him you were out.” “Didn’t he leave his card?” she gasped. “No::’ “That’s queer. I should think any gentleman would “Sure enough,” said Solomon, a smile lighting his face, and he began to poke over the contents of a large waste basket. The result of his efforts was a rather soiled card, which he handed the girl. It bore the name, “Richard Baldwin.” The “fifth floor back” eyed it wonderingly. ” ”