Phillips High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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'I he Mirror MARCHING Tramp, tramp, tramp; what is that steady, throbbing, earth-shaking noise? What is that peculiarly familiar thumpity-thump that accompanies the drum beat? Now I know why my nerves are tense; why my feet keep in step of their own volition. Marching boots, marching feet come around the corner. Hooray! How the glistening bayonets reflect the sun’s rays! How the shining rifles gleam in the sunlight! Here come sturdy men with sixty-pound packs on their backs. Here come officers with their leather and their sabers a-shinc. And, at '.ast—the colors! The good old red, white, and blue: Who knows a prettier flag! What of the crowd? Beside me. an o.d woman in black, gazes: her sun-bleached eyes swimming in tears, her body heaving with sobs that keep time with the boots. She felt my stare, turned, and controlling her tears, gasped, “My boy— marched In front of her, a hov and girl, about seven or eight, are screaming, jumping and waving toy flags. And there is a young lady admiring her hero as he marches, the center of the whole show. Why am 1 interested in marching men? Men have marched since they have had ability to organize. They have marched as Romans, as Englishmen, and as Americans. My forefathers and yours have marched to war and a few have come back. That is the War Spirit, the fever of war reverberating through the ages. War marches on! —Horry Koil'itx —o— WAR Beat, heat, Sounded the drums. The song of war was on. To soldiers, the future lay Unknown. Tramp, tramp. They came marching Row after row so brave. While high above, the stars and stripes Did wave. Silence— Deep, deep silence— Oppressive silence falls upon The group of weary men, marching On, on. Onward Down through the years. Shall there he eternal beat of drums? Shall there be forever the sound of weary feet And guns? [20] —Alice Huey

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The Mirror and Shambalo having been overheard by the birds, the gossiping of two songsters in the branches above Tidmond. as he stood waiting for the fight to end. revealed to him the truth. After the defeat of his brother, Cadmond, he questioned the eligibility of Cam-balo as the agreement had been for one of the family to fight. The silence that fell was broken when the real Cambalo and Shambalo’s mother appeared upon the scene. She believing the time had come for Shambalo to know the truth, had told his impersonator her story. She explained that the father of Shambalo had been Cambinskin’ favorite brother, who, because envious people had convinced Cambinskin of his brother’s intentions to seize the throne, had been driven from the court. Since the very sreurity of their hiding place had been kept secret, they did not know that after the passing of long years a deathbed confession had revealed the conspiracy. The resulting search for the missing family had been in vain. At last all difficulties being cleared up. the surprised Cambalo. knowing the delight it would give the king to sec his brother's wife again, brought her into his presence. After a joyous reunion. Shambalo. his right to fight for Canace now firmly established, turned and engaged Tidmond in combat, but Tidmond, a better fighter than his brother, wounded Shambalo several times. How fortunate that Tidmond in the heat of battle left himself unguarded! At that fatal moment Shambalo thrust him through the heart. As a reward Cambinskin promised his nephew anything in his power to give. After learning that Canace was willing, the victor asked for his cousin's hand. And tradition records that their marriage was a long and happy one. —Bessie Davis 119]

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T he Mirror “the music goes ’round and ’round” I oe Carlton's composition was the most perfectly harmonized, the most delicately rhythmed, the most original and inspired music that had ever been written—so he believed; and nothing should swerve him from a musical career. Life as an accountant was too matter-of-fact, too routine. True his income was sufficient; and his friends were agreeable enough, though they seemed not to appreciate his artistic efforts. However, he himself was too sure of his talent to let their criticism or their indifference discourage him. Nor could their frivolity tempt him into wasting his leisure on bridge and tennis. Some day his genius would he appreciated. This he realized as he played the just-completed masterpiece through again and marveled at its perfection. No use to try to discuss it further with his friends. The thing to do now was to send this “Sonate , as he proudly called it. to Virgil Winters. There was a man who recognized ability; and he was known to have encouraged beginners. Joe would address and mail it now. A few days of waiting. Thrn lie would drop bv for congratulations and royalties. • • • By the time the carefully wrapped, neatly labeled package reached the littered desk of the critic, Virgil Winters was in no humor to encourage anyone. He himself was embarrassed because he had advised his company to publish a song of which not more than two dozen copies had been sold. Hut the recollection of a worse blunder haunted him: he had been loud in condemning young Hob McCann, whose musical comedies were now furnishing the tunes of the town. And, as if to rub it in. the young upstart had just telephoned him, of all people, and asked for some new composition, his offhand manner seeming to say that he, the great McCann, could make a hit of anything. Hut all that was spilt milk, and Winters might as well try out this new thing on the ramshackle, long-suffering piano. Horrors! It was impossible. A conglomeration of over-worked themes and exaggerated discords. Did “Joseph Carlton” expect serious consideration? What was the musical world coming to? Suddenly Winters’ dull eyes gleamed. Why not send this hodge-podge to the dauntless McCann? Of course, lie would have sense enough not to ruin himself by accepting it, but let him have the experience of rejecting Carlton's masterpiece. Hob had asked for music; and he, Virgil Winters, would go on record as not having refused it. • • • On glancing at the music thus sent him. Hob McCann danced up and down. It was really grand of Winters to help out like that! A big man would admit that he had made a mistake. This music was exact.) what he needed: conspicuousl ridiculous, it was perfect for his comedy scene. It was something to be recognized and even boosted by an erstwhile enemy. It would be a pleasure to welcome and reward this newcomer. Joe Carlton. Oh. the musical world was great! [21]