Phillips High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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T h £ Mirror kewpie land “Knoxvcst thou the land” where the Kcwpics dwell Far over the sea in an emerald dell? I is said they awake with the meadow lark’s song As it flies past their home at the break of dawn. I heir wine is the dew'drops left in the flowers; I heir food, the honey from clover bee bowers. I hey have nothing to do the livelong day Hut to sing and to dance the hours away, Or to swim in their sparkling, Sapphire stream (Where on moonlight nights fairy wings gleam) 1 ill twilight steals across the sky And the birds sing the Kcwpies a lullaby. Lilian Dclotty [16J

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% The Mirror “No, by gad, but I sure thought he was,” said a deputy as he bent over the sleeping form. “Jim,” ordered the sheriff, “Take these men to town. We’ll get the Colonel to a doctor. “Ivy, go to the house and put Mrs. Winter at case; te.l her to ’phone the doctor, and tell her we’ll be there right off.” • • ■ « Approaching the house, Ivy heard his Aunt Susie and the old negro housekeeper talking excitedly. “Where is Ivy?” Ivy stopped to listen. “I don’t know, ‘mam. 1 seen him in the co’n Held when 1 went to see Boss. He went over to a neighbor’s on a’ errand fo' the Colonel. He fed the stock — “Here comes the Colonel with the sheriff!” interrupted Aunt Susie, before Ivy could speak for wonder at the sight of the two. “Ivy, my boy, we've come to get you to go with us to town to pay off the mortgage. The farm is ours again! Yes, our farm! and Ivy, you and I ill never sell it for a government Hying field, will we! A cotton Held for us. Ivy!’’ —Frank Hurt y LILACS Pale purple lilacs again Filling the air with dreams I had almost forgotten. I can remember when dreams were destiny; Now when lilacs bloom— Have I outgrown them Like stilts And stories of seven-league boots? —Curl Bastirn [15]

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T H E M I R R () R TWICE-TOLD ROMANCE nj NE May morning Spring frolicked in the outdoors. It drew Camba.o out to the open woods. Birds sang overhead and some startled flew from his path. Early spring flowers peered shyly from amid the tail grasses, and the fresh blue skies of early morn smi.ed above him. Rapt in the beauties around him. Cambalo wandered idly along. As the sun rose higher, Cambalo suddenly awoke to the fact that noon was near and he was far from home. Sw n the members of his father's court would be sitting around the table at their midday meal, and his practical father would be growing impatient as he wondered what could be keeping him. Rebellion tided his soul, for he was not like his brother, Algarsyf, who was fond of jousting and adventure. Rather for him was the quiet of the woods and the companionship of God’s creatures. Only his sister, C’anace, really understood him. Dear Can ace—she too loved nature. But. since her coming marriage was not far off. preparation for the festivity filled her waking hours. As he was thinking, his meditations were interrupted by a noise in the bush. Lo! suddenly, he stood face to face with his double! “Who are you and whence come you?” he asked after a brief moment of silence. “I am called Shambalo, and mv home is here in the forest, answered the vouch. “And you?” 1 am Cambalo, son of Cambinskin,” answered he. “You are far from home,” answered the youth, “and it is lunch time. Won’t you share my lunch with me? 'With pleasure,” answered Cambalo. After lunch they lay upon the bank of a sma.l stream and looked dreamily at the waters be ow. A mutual liking had sprung up brtween the two. and they began to exchange confidences. One told of his longing for rite gay life of the court; the Other, of his longing for the pensive life of the woods. Finally, it was agreed upon that since each desired the life of the other, they would exchange identities. By this arrangement each would enjoy for a time the life he wished, and no one would know the difference. 1 have always lived in the woods.” said Shambalo. “My mother and I are here alone now. While my father lived, the three of us hail an enjoyable time, for he taught me the use of the sword and told me stories of the wondrous times of his youth. Since he died a few years ago and left the two of us alone. 1 am unable to leave my mother for long periods. I love my mother and these woods, but youth wants the companionship of youth, love, and gay adventures. These thing never come here: my mother and I sec only each other years upon end. “I understand how you feel, said Cambalo. “1, tot), like court life at times. But one ever wants what one can not have, and of late I have sought the quiet woods where everything seems a friend. Because court life makes many demands and allows [17]