Oakwood Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (Toronto Ontario, Canada)

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THE OAKWOOD ORACLE nothing new. Suddenly, in the Agony Column, the Personals, my eye caught my own name, Somerset Maughanf' This is what I read: If Somerset Maugh- an, son of the late Urban Maughan, of Montaign Hall, Hailyton, Her- fordshire, will send his present ad- dress to Welsh and Welsh, Inner Temple, London, he will hear of something to his advantage. I was greatly surprised and also a trifle amused. As far as I knew, my elder brothers had absorbed whatever property and money there had been in the family. Per- haps it was debts I had inherited. It could scarcely be anything else. But the spirit of adventure claimed me, as it always did, and I sent my address to Welsh and Welsh the following morning. Promptly came a request to visit their office, and promptly I went there. Two dear, old gentlemen, the brothers Welsh. informed me that by the will of an old aunt of my mother's, tbless me, I had quite forgotten dear old Aunt Carolinel, I had fallen heir to an old property, Kelton Court, in Dor- setshire, on the edge of the moors. I signed the necessary papers, and left with the keys of the property in my pocket and explicit directions as to its whereabouts in my mind. I was told that the house had been unoccupied for some time. I decid- ed to go down to see it at once, and left London next morning. All day I drove through drizzling rain, hoping to reach Kelton Court before dark. I met a peasant in a quaint smock, and he informed me that Kelton do be just a moil and half o' that around the bend. So around the bend I went, when sud- denly my wheels went down in mud, hopelessly mired. I tried hard to extricate my car, but in vain. It was pelting rain by this time, and almost pitch dark. I couldn't go back. I must go for- ward. Accordingly, on foot I Page IfIfjllfl'I'll struggled and splashed for a moil and half of that, carrying my bag, and lighting my way with a power- ful flash-light which I had in my car. Iflventually, I reached my destin- ation. An iron paling with an iron gate set in it, with Helton Court in brass letters above it, enclosed the place. I took out my keys and opened the gate. Passing through I set my foot in what seemed deso- lation itself. Overgrown with weeds, the garden was a dreary spot, even in the light of my flash I looked towards the house. No sign of life greeted me. The windows were shuttered fast, and the whole aspect of the place was dark and forbidding in the ex- treme. The thought of fear never enter- ed my mind. Physically I was strong, and I didn't know the mean- ing of nerves, or I thought I didn't. I ran up the steps and set my key in the lock of the door. Hust- ily and grudgingly, the wards drew back under my strong pressure, and I stood in a fine, lofty, dim old hall. Walking into a room on the 1'ight, I found myself in a library. I was by this time, very tired. A heavy thunderstorm was raging without, so I decided to wait till morning to explore my new possession further. I flung off my heavy raincoat and looked around for candles. There was one, half burned down, in a silver candlestick on the mantel- piece. I lighted it, and sat down in a great green leather chair, glad to rest, even in these strange sur- roundings. The storm increased in fury, and I could not stay still. I was uneasy, perhaps because I waw so utterly weary. Not a sound but the rolling o the thunder assailed my ears, and after a while I threw myself on a couch and drew up a dark woollen afghan, which was folded at the foot of it. Cn

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At the dance, Jill mixed among the young men and with all the masculinity which she herself pos- sessed plus what she suddenly ac- quired, went over magically. No one could ever have suspected, her fears soon died away and she en- tered with enthusiasm into the warmth and pleasure of the dance as her brother could never have dreamed of doing. Her dancing was graceful, her leading strong and it was not long until rumour spread that Jack Pym, the femin- ine artist, had suddenly become the most marvellous dancer. And so the evening passed. Jill was experiencing the most thrill- ing adventure of her young life. It was on the way home that the girl said to her, Do you know you are very deceiving? I had no idea you were really like this. You are wonderfulf' Scarcely had she breathed the last words when Jill felt her head crash and a heavy weight descend upon her. Then oblivion. The next morning, Jill opened her eyes and gazed about her. It was a small room, all white. A nurse entered, then memory re- turned. She had been in an acci- dent. This was the hospital. What a mixup! Her first words to the nurse were to inquire of the girl whose words were still sounding in her ears. She was more than a little relieved to hear that she only was injured. That helped at least. THE OAKWOOD ORACLE But where was Jack? Why didn't he come to see her '? Suddenly the reason came to her why he was unable to come. The masquerade was still on and she was Jack Pym. She felt the heavy bandages on her head. It was very annoying! The nurse insisted upon calling her Mr. Pym. How much she would have loved to hear some- one say, Jill, how do you feel? But no one did. Amidst these anxieties the white door opened and Jill saw her father. He came to her and whis- pered 'tJill, what's all this any- way? Jack is at home in his stu- dio pacing up and down half wild. The papers say he was injured pretty badly last night, John Pym was now a modern father. He laughed to himself. Something was amusing him very much. But poor Jill felt herself becom- ing more and more distracted. Everything was becoming very much complicated. She was lying back, with eyes closed, mentally exhausted in this unnecessary situ- ation. However, time heals all things and in two days Jill was brought hom from the hospital. In the school newspaper, a few days later, there appeared a notice to the effect that Miss Jill Pym had been called away to relations in New York for three weeks. And thus ended one of the Pym entan- glements. G. E. R. IVA. ikehnn I had come home to my little apartment in the Edgeware Road, weary after a more than ordinarily trying day at the office. I had had my dinner before I came home and I was pleased to find that my little maid-of-all-work had lighted a fire in the grate, and drawn the shades. My big arm chair was near the Qtourt hearth, and I sank into it with re- lief. Now for a quiet smoke and my evening paper. For half an hour I read. It was the same old story-trouble in the Balkans, columns of scandal about the Beach Divorce Case, floods in the West, and, as usual, financial excitement in the United States- Page Sczwztcwf

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I think I must have fallen asleep, for I remember waking with a pricking sensation in my scalp. I had heard strange sounds above my head, a stealthy step, followed by a cry, and then a crash! The blood froze in my veins. Now I remem- bered that old Mr. Welsh had said, The Place is haunted, it is said, but you will give no credence to that tale, of course. I rose from the couch, trembling in every limb. rather ashamed of myself for doing so, too, but unable to control it. I raised my eyes to the ceiling, where the candle's light shone, and saw that there was a crack in it. As I gazed, a dark red drop slowly detached itself from it, and dropped beside me. Fascinated by horror, I touched it, and my finger-tip was red. With this sight, all my fear left me. I was ne1'ved to find out the meaning of it all, and my old training as a soldier aided me to brace myself to help, if help were needed, in that room above me. THE OAKWOOD 0l!ACl,.E Turning on my flash light, I dashed into the hall and up the staircase. Reaching the room above the Library I turned the handle and flung open the door. Facing me was a young woman in a dressing-gown. She dropped a curtsy, and said, Be you the new master, sir 7 I said I was, and ask- ed her what was the meaning of the shriek I had heard and the red drops I had seen fall from the Li- brary ceiling. She said she had spilt a bottle of red dye, with which she was coloring her best shawl, and it had dropped on the floor. She was very contrite, and called her father from the loft. Together they got me some warm food, and made me comfortable for the night. In the morning I explored Kelton Court, and found it beautiful. Margot, the little maid, grew old in my service, but she always im- agines that I don't like red shawls. Perhaps she is right. Adelaide E. R. Sternberg, IIIA. 3Bu55Ie-- jfinh the line Get into line there! This rapidly vibrating air-column frequently smites the tender mem- brane of my ears as I pass a cer- tain door on the third floor. At each such crisis, I glance hastily around in search of the familiar faces of my class-mates, find them not, and finally, panic-sticken, van- ish into a neighbouring cloak-room until the hawk-eyed one has gone to refresh himself with fair water at the other end of the hall. Then I venture forth into an atmosphere still trembling with the volume of that oft' repeated sound. After long experience, I have found this remedy the best. It is useless to declare that the line has vanished utterly and unaccountab- ly into space. The line should not have been left so long alone that it could find opportunity to disappear. It is equally vain to assert that the pad has gone with its bearer. The pad can then be found and its cus- todian relieved of his burden, These things I have tried and thus have I been answered. Now I conceal my- self as before mentioned and await a more favourable opportunity to continue my journey. This quest-for the line seems endless. I leave the room at the end of a class firmly ensconced in a central position in the straggling line. As we reach the door of the next class-room, it belches forth a horde of wreckers, who pass through the line and leave me stranded in a whirl of first-formers, second formers, third formers, fifth forn'1ers, in short every for n in the school but the right one. Far off in the c1'owd I glimpse a fami- liar hair cut and valiantly struggle Page fVl.llf'ff'Cll