Plainfield High School - Milestone Yearbook (Plainfield, NJ)

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THE ORACLE for shelter, for the portals of the Iris are always open, and surely one of those beruffled ladies reclin- ing under her silken canopy will gladly offer him a refuge. Then leaving the three damsels to enjoy their siesta in peace, perhaps he will meet with a jolly bumble-bee. He will find the bee an entertaining, sociable body, who keeps up a con- tinuous hum of conversation. He is a harmless gossip who knows everybody’s business as well as he knows his own, and that is very well. They both will drop into a sip from the fragrant larder of a hospitable Honeysuckle, and ram- ble away to thenearest Lily-of-the- Valley, where they will be accom- modated with dainty finger-bowls, filled with perfumed dew. Night would have no terror for our little man if he were a butter- fly. And being a charmed but- terfly, and not an ordinary moth, he would not stick on the back ofa maple leaf all night, but snuggling down in the heart of a rose, he would sleep a charmed sleep among its velvet pillows, till daybreak. These long, joyous days pass only too soon from the prince, and Time, by his cute arguments, con- verts him toa republican. Time’s arguments are hard, and the repub- lican chafes under them, and looks back for consolation to the time ‘‘when birds, and flowers and I were happy peers.”’ Mercy HILLMANN, ’06. 13 NOVEMBER. Death haunts the earth And whispering to the breeze, Shakes from the stately trees The vigor and the strength of youth; And from the bush The emerald leaves, Green from their birth ; And dark as one who dares not speak the truth, Throws all the land in weirdest mystery. With bony hands he shrivels up the corn, He cuts the fiery sheaves, And, o’er the jewelled leaves, By his pale charger borne, Looses his poison’d breath. Moaning in wind and storm, He wails the last song of the dying year, Soon his forever, And, on some midnight drear Bids us remember. VAN WYCK BROOKS, ’04. THANKSGIVING. It was in one cold November Near three hundred years ago, When the Indians were masters With the quiver and the bow ; In the little town of Plymouth, On that wild New England shore, Came the settlers for thanksgiving, Just thanksgiving,—nothing more. They had passed long days of hardship, Under Bradford’s guiding hand, When they gathered in the court-house At the governor’s command. High above all earthly sorrows Did the pilgrims’ stout hearts soar: They were gathered for thanksgiving, Just thanksgiving,—nothing more. Since that meeting of the Pilgrims, Many years have passed away ; But in each, by their descendants, Has been kept thanksgiving day. Year by year our country’s prospered, ' Till at last we seem to be Standing first among the nations, Conquerors on both land and sea. Let us on this next Thanksgiving Count our blessings o’er and o’er, Set aside the day for thanking, Just for thanking,—nothing more. R. S. LANE, 703.

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12 A friend, a foe, A journey to go, A present, a beau, and a spider ambling over his blouse bears to him the message that a new shirt will soon replace the old one. Among the other treasures that make the prince’s pockts bulge is a lucky stone. His buttons are to him what the Sibyl- line Books were to the ancient Romans, for by telling on them the charmed words, Doctor, lawyer, beggar, thief, Richman, poorman, Indian chief, he discovers his future vocation. And by the same power he can tell whether his bride shall wear “silk, satin, calico or rags.” Our Prince believes implicitly in fairies. Indeed, the Principality would be robbed of half its splendor if its mas er could not enrich it by frequently “ building castles in the air,’ and peopling them with fairies, giants, or other fantasies. He dearly loves to lieinsomeshady nook on a summer day, and enjoy the luxury of a day-dream. He wishes a good fairy would change him into a butterfly and send him in this disguise on a mission to all the fairy courts in the garden, for there are numberless fairy palaces inthat charmed place. In the garden there is the Palace Purity, a great, white palace, with only one entraice and one inhab- itant, the Queen. Her Majesty is tall and stately. She is always robed in cloth of gold and closely shrouded in a veil of dainty filigree THE ORACLE lace. Ordinary mortals call her residence the Calla Lily. If he finds Her Majesty of the Palace Purity too exclusive, he flitters away to a more sociable atmosphere, where crowds of yellow-haired maidens gossip and play together in . the democratic hall of the Rose Peony. The flaunting color of the Poppy might lure him, as Comus did the lady, but he will not be tempted to join the revelers in their spacious banquet hall, lest, under the influ- ence of a subtle potion, he might be detained against his will. Creep- ing over the velvet carpets of the Pansy, he knocks at the door of his cell and begs the tiny hermit king within to teach him his soothing art. Forget-Me-Not, shy little im- itator of your god, the firmament, you change from rosy dawn to blue day. How could a charmed butterfly forget you? He has the whole summer day before him, and he will gladly tarry a while to frolic with the five little sisters within your azure circle. . There is a Tulip hard by that looks invit- ing. Our butterfly approaches, but when he has gained the doorsill he hesitates, and instead of giving the usual fairy salute, he expresses his opinion in round terms to the despotic ruler of that castle. The Tulip king is a great stout fellow, wearing a three-cornered crown; and, despite the fact that he is upon free soil, he has negro slaves in attendance. If hard-pressed by some greedy fledgling, he will never be at a loss

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14 Alumni Notes Dr. F. J. Miller, Professor of Latin at the University of Chicago, and former Principal of the Plain- field High School, is spending the year abroad. °86.—Captain Tieman Horn, U.S. A., has been appointed one of ten captains to takea specialcourse in the torpedo school at Fort Tot- ten, ’90.—Edward Petrieisin business in Chicago. ’91.—Miss Edith Gilbert is teach- ing in the Randolph-Cooley colleg- iate school. ’94.—Champlain Riley, who was graduated from Cornell in 1898, has lately taken up his residence in Plainfield. °97.—Miss Edith Burt is teaching in the Seminary, Plainfield, New Jersey. °97.—William B. Van Alstyne has completed a course at Columbia, and will enter upon hospital work in January. 97.—Earnest Suffern who was graduated from Williams’ in 1901 has announced his engagement to Miss Georgia Greene, of Elizabeth. 97.—Louis Squires, Williams’, 1901, is studying law in New York City. ‘98.—Miss Constance S. Patton, Smith, 1902, is teaching at Saint Timothy’s School, Baltimore. °98.—Miss Carolyn Kampman, TAPES ORAC ITE Wellesley, 1902, is teaching in Can- ton, Ohio. °98.—Miss Lillian B. Hunt is the principal of a kindergarten in New York City: 98.—Miss Sarah Richards was graduated from Smith in June, and is now living in New York City. °98.—Miss Adele H. Kirby, after three years as assistant librarian in the Plainfield Public Library, has resigned her position. ’98.—Elwood L. Davis, Rutgers, 1902, is studying medicine in Phila- delphia. He was awarded third scientific honor at his graduation from Rutgers in June. °99.—Miss Angie Kuhl has been appointed the leader of the Glee Club at Wellesley. While on the Inter-Collegiate Geological Tour, she has recently been visiting her friends at Mt. Holyoke and Smith College. ’99.—Miss Helen Hall, who will be graduated in June from Welles- ley, is now specializing in German. ’99.— William C. Morgan is a Senior at Amherst. °00. —Miss Mary Lock is aJunior at Barnard. ‘00.—Miss Flora Campbell after two years spent at the Woman’s College, Baltimore, is now at Bar- nard. ] ’00.—Miss Emily Runyon is tak- ing a course in kindergarten work at the Ethical Culture School in New York. °00.—Miss Ruth Maxson is a Junior at Smith College.