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Page 90 text:
KTMS Poem rms written by Marjorie Lovell and read by her at
Throughout all time and e'er the dawn of day,
The self same light has lit the souls of men,
The self same sword has brought them through the fray
The self same power makes heroes now, as then.
Persistence is that fire we ought to fan,
Persistence is that sword we ought to wield,
Persistence is that power within a man
That goads him on and suffers none to yield.
Ten years did royal Odysseus, long-tried, seek
His much loved native land and loyal wife.
The swelling seas tossed high and winds did shriek,
Yet on he sailed and battled on for life.
Like some great bird, who, flying straight,
ls buffeted and blown by sudden gales
And gives not up his flight nor moans his fate,
But, struggling on against the wind, prevails.
And Moses, Giver of the Law, was one
Who, though he disappointments suffered long,
Yet turned not back from tasks he had begun,
But onward led steadfastly with a song.
Joan of Arc, fair warrior-maid revered,
Led on by saintly voices, visions rare,
Who neither death nor darksome dungeons feared,
Gave France her glory 'midst the trumpet's blare.
Undaunted, on wrote Milton to the close,
To Grief and Sorrow paying heavy toll,
Yet bearing under Heaven's will his woes
For him all pain of flesh was food for soul.
Columbus braved a vast, an unknown sea
To mutinous men he cried, "Sail on and on."
And on he sailed through dangers dread and dree.
Ah! surely joy will come with early dawn!
And thus it's been with men in every age,
And now it is with men who seek success
"Sail on," has said the Sybil, "On," the sage.
These words propel the ship that would progress.
This is the grandest lesson in the world:
With soul ablaze and sword of courage drawn,
The banner of persistence high, unfurled,
Be dauntless, daring, Friends, sail on and on!
Page 89 text:
A s aga -,
l IZ H
Page 91 text:
Jimmy Hardwick cast a baneful glance about the crowded dance hall.
His upper lip curled in a scornful sneer, and he smiled derisively. Every
expression of his usually jovial countenance suggested utter and unlimited
contempt. WVith a shrug of one shoulder, he deserted the "stag" line and
made his way toward the door.
"Where to, Jim?" a masculine voice called after him with all the
brevity and conciseness that characterizes the modern vocabulary.
Jimmy motioned toward the outer door. "Smoke!" he said shortly
and dragged forth a silver cigarette case. "Have one?"
"Thanks" And another member of the "stag" line was numbered
among the missing.
Outside, the September moon shone brightly on the veranda of the
Bungalow. Jimmy sank down into a wicker porch chair, placed his feet
on the piazza railing, and proceeded, rather mechanically, to light his
cigarette. He seemed to gain comfort from the smoke curling silently
from his lips, for he watched its course upward with a slow, meditative
His companion stirred uneasily. "What's the trouble, J im '?" he asked
at length. You aren't yourself to night. You look like a castastroplie
about to happen! Having an attack of the blues? You and I are pals,
you know. 'Honest confession is good for the soul', old man, and I'm a
Jimmy shook his head. "There's nothing the matter."
Tom Maynard laughed knowingly. "Nothing? Then tell me why
Janet is here with Ted Gordon tonight instead of with you."
"Because he asked her, and I didn't, I suppose", replied Jimmy curtly.
"You-why, Jim", Tom halted-puzzled, "Jim, you haven't broken
up-you and Janet ?"
"Precisely!" Jimmy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Quite a little
Sherlock, aren't you ?"
"Oh, I didn't mean to probe into your private affairs. I'm sorry, of
course. I knew something was wrong and I couldn't help showing a little
The repentant note in Tom's voice quickly melted the ice of J immy's
reserve and he burst forth with a complete recital of his most recent
Jimmy was tired of the kind of girl of which Janet was typical-the
modern girl with the self-assertive manner, the abbreviated dress, the
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