Monterey High School - El Susurro Yearbook (Monterey, CA)

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EL SUSURRO the bulb, and in a moment's time the low-beamed attic was changed from the densest darkness to a mellow, shadow-filled light. I Now, Mrs. Eaton was an ideal housekeeper, so the neighbors said, but her attic, hidden from the casual glance of the friendly friend, was the exception that proved the rule. A clear space from door to light, andithen a chaos of cast-offs. As far as one could see into the gloom were boxes of things, for all the Eatons had a saving strain, and could not bear to throw anything away. Old bookcases, better burned than saved, two-legged chairs, a pile of worn-out shoes, whose leather dad said was just the thing for washers, which he invariably bought in- stead of made, piles of magazines, clothes, books, arrayed in dust-laden heaps. Some day we'll get at that attic, said Mrs. Eaton, but the day had never come. Mabel looked down upon this hodge podge, whiffed the closed-in, old clothes-laden air, then gazed off into the gloom. Her eyes rested there but a second, for there was something uncanny in those shadows, for all she knew, there was nothing there to fear. Where could mother have put those books? A glance revealed a clean-looking box, partly filled with well-worn books. It was then that Mabel remembered that when Uncle Sam's family moved to the next town, several weeks ago, they had sent over this box, saying that perhaps the Eatons could use the contents. Mother had promptly added it to the overflowing attic. Undoubtedly she had placed the account books there, too. Mabel knelt beside the box, and commenced her search. Yes, there they were, right on top. She laid them on the Hoor. . Guess I'l1 just see what's in here before going downq Humph- just a lot of old Sunday School books-and- A half hour had passed, when an impatient masculine voice sounded up the stairway: Haven't you found those things yet? it asked, while a step sounded on the lowest stair. Mabel started suddenly, looked around quickly, and softly closing the book in her lap, slipped it into the box, picked up the account books, and hurried to meet her father as he appeared. Yes, here they are, daddy, she answered, as she 'held the books out to him. Aren't you coming down P he asked, as he descended. In a moment. ' Her father's footsteps died away as Mabel went back to the box. Again she pulled out the book. Yes, here it is, right where that lesson was today-'Eum qucm Pompcius Iegatum-fi There was the sen- tence she was working over! How simple it seemed when you saw it. 25 -

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EL SUSURRO Her Ride Q Gee, whiz! How I hate Latin! Blamed old stuff! Never can get it! Two, four, six, eight more lines before I'm through, and got a raft of English to read besides, and Miss Watson asked for these ever- lasting history note books tomorrow. -Mine's simply miles behind. Say! I'll be glad when I'm through High. No college for mine, grumbled Mabel Eaton, as she pondered over a particularly difficult sentence in Cicero. Not that she was putting her mind very enthusiastically upon the translation before her, but she so wanted to finish reading V.'V.'s Eyes before going to bed, and her father always insisted upon his scholars, as he called his three High School children, being in bed by ten o'clock. Bum qucm Pompeius Icgat-us sempfr indicavit, et quibus rrrat-. What can that be? She turned over to the vocabulary, finding the meaning of the new words, then carefully cribbed them in very faint pencil marks above the Latin. But when the 'words had all been found, the meaning was as vague as before. Again she counted the lines-eight more to be done. Oh, well, I just can't get that now. I'll go on to my English, and maybe I'll have time -to find that stuff in the morning. She closed the volume of despised Latin, placed it emphatically on the other side of the table, and reached for her English book. Mabel, said her father, without glancing up from his writing at his end of the family study table, do you know where my old account books are P Why, yes, dad, mother said she'd put them in the attic. I'll go hunt for them, she added, only too glad for an excuse to leave the despised studying for a few moments. She pushed her chair back from the table, left the room, hurried up stairs, and arriving in the upper hall, opened the doorway leading to the attic stairs. She counted them as she went-fourteen-and even then, knowing the exact number, felt hesitatingly for another step bei fore wallcingforward into the inky blackness. Pity they didn't fix a switch by the door, she muttered as she groped unsuccessfully for the light with one hand held high above her head, while she warded off contact with immovable objects with her other. But finally the cord came into her hand, she felt the end, then ' 24

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sl. susunno Q She read on. There were the whole eight lines of the lesson right be- fore her eyes, for she had found a Translation of Cicero's Orationsf' Again she read the printed words, then closed the book, pushed it beneath its shelter, and as she finished she heard a step. I'll use it just this once, she murmured, apologetically to herself, as she felt her conscience tell her it wasn't fair. At last the attic was in darkness. Cicero's Orationsn was buried beneath its box, while Mabel felt her way down the stairs. S'he came humming into the family study, but no one looked up as she entered. She took her place at the table, picked up the Latin and read the page. How perfectly easy it was! She read it through again, erased the cribbed words and knew that she could translate that lesson in her sleep. Five minutes passed and She was through. At nine o'clock she was reading V. V.'s Eyes. Wh'at! through already! exclaimed George in astonishment, as he chanced to notice Mabel reading. Why, yes! I didn't have much to do tonight, was the careless answer.. I That's funnyg thought you were growling like you 'had a ton of studyin' before you went upstairs, he answered. Keep still, she answered crossly, blushing at the mere mention of the attic, I want to re-ad. ' Ten o'clock came, with UV. V.'s Eyes unfinished. but with bed time and a sharp feeling of shame at the thought of going upstairs, so close to the attic. But Mabel was practical, so dismissed, as well as she could, any disagreeable thoughts, and was soon asleep in her cot, preparing for the next day of triumph. Feeling so confident at the prospect of a perfect recitation, it was with disgust that she heard Mr. Manchester say in Latin class the fol- lowing morning, Miss Eaton, will you please read the review? Review, shoot the review! Never get called on for anything I know, was her reflection, as she went stumblingly through the back lesson, her disgust increasing when she remembered that she could have gotten that from the translation book. But at last, the agony over, she sank back into her seat. Master Jonas, will you please do the same, commanded Mr. Manchester, and he added, there are several in the room who need to put more time upon their work. Mabel mentally performed various feats in which her tongue played an active part, -all of which Mr. Manchester was blissfully un- conscious, as she fixed her attention upon the book in front of her, and 26 f