Plainfield High School - Milestone Yearbook (Plainfield, NJ)

Page 11 text:

THE ORACLE 7 Jocko (As told by Herbert Seaman, winner of the First Marsh Prize.) “Bang! Crash! Smack’’—there was a terrible yelping and snarling on the lonely New England beach. A boy rushed down the sand toward the cause of the noise. As he rounded a wooded point a never-to-be-forgotten sight met his eyes. Sand blew here and there, pieces of driftwood shot through the air and in the middle of this hurricane was a dark mass of legs, tails and teeth. Yes, and a good one, too. Now, off here on the coast, there was it was a dog fight not much for an active young lad to do but while away his time whittling or counting the numberless sails which flocked the azure horizon. So, for want of a better motive, the boy perched himself on a rock and watched the battle. Suddenly he leaped to his feet with a startled exclamation. One of the dogs, a mongrel, had succeeded in overturning his smaller enemy and was trying to get at its throat. The poor, little puppy, having no way to defend himself, was rapidly giving in when a tense brown hand clutched the mongrel’s furry neck and, with a rapid kick, sent him yelping down the beach. ‘The owner of the hand now turned his attention to the puppy whom he had rescued in the nick of time. One of the dog’s eyes was badly bruised and swollen, in fact, so badly hurt that he could express his thanks toward his deliverer with only one eye. Bob, for that was the lad’s name, took the dog up in his arms and carried him home to the Lighthouse. “The puppy was an Airedale terrier about two months old, Bob reckoned. At the Lighthouse, Bob dressed the puppy’s wounds, and not so much as a whimper did he get from the puppy. Right here would be a good time to describe the place that was to be the dog’s home all his life. The New England Coast at this place is a barren enough spot, indeed, and the occupants of Lighthouse No. 4 led a lonely life. “The rugged coast for miles is covered with formidable rocks, some jutting way out into the ocean, partly submerged, a perfect Waterloo for unwary seamen. Solidly built on a reef of these rocks, standing like a sentinel, is Lighthouse No. 4. It serves a double purpose: to warn sailors of the hidden danger lurking beneath the white- capped billows and also to act as a life-saving station for that stretch of coast line. On the beach is a shed containing a heavy sea-worthy boat and the cannon which shoots the life-line to the unfortunate mariners. This, then, was where the dog was to pass many happy hours, racing up and down the beach with his master, swimming in the foaming surf, or taking long hikes through the woods with Bob. ‘The latter was just as fond of his

Page 10 text:

6 THE ORACLE whistled past them and kicked up the ground about their feet. Brooks felt a sting in his arm, but forgot it immediately. He despaired of reaching the trenches in one sprint, and headed for a shell-crater. A shrapnel-shell burst off to the side. He felt a vicious lash in his face and tumbled, unconscious, into the hole. Slowly Brooks became conscious of a heavy ache in his head. His right arm was stiff. What was the matter? Where was he? He stretched out his left hand weakly. There was nothing but earth, cold and damp. His bewildered thoughts groped for an explanation. Then his wild flight flashed upon his mind with all the vividness of a terrible experience. He lay quietly, wondering what to do. The big guns were still roaring their defiance to civilization. “Those cursed light bombs had disappeared. “he stars had been obscured. How black that hole was! He shifted his luminous wrist watch before his eves. Eyes! ‘The truth struck him a sickening blow! God! He had none! He writhed in agony, moaning, sobbing. A terrible sense of injustice crowded into his tortured head. A black hopelessness followed it. © What would become of him? And his mother? And his sister? He buried his face in his arm and recoiled from the pain. He could, never earn a living for them! They could not get along alone! The same thoughts returned again and again to torment him. At last, he came to a sudden resolve. He knelt, and moved his lips silently. ‘Then he crawled upward until his left hand felt the edge. After repeated efforts, he dragged himself over, and rose upon unsteady legs. He faced toward the direction he thought the enemy trenches must lie. | Almost eagerly he waited for that which would surely come. He was not disappointed. In a few moments Private Brooks fell again into the shell crater, and lay still at the bottom.

Page 12 text:

8 THE ORACLE pet, whom he named “Jocko,” as the dog was of him. Jocko was always ready for play and fun and Bob taught him many tricks. There was, however, one thing that the dog disliked and that was the numerous storms they have on the coast of New England. During them Jocko would sit at his master’s feet, huddled up close to them, and shiver and shake every nerve in his body. ‘That there dog may be a thoroughbred, but I don’t t’ink he’ll ever make a life- guard,’”’ Bob’s father had said, and although Bob protested he could not help agreeing with it in his heart. One day Bob’s father came in and throwing down his hat remarked. “We're in for a big one, now, sonny. A reg’ler nor’-easter probably blow up tomorrow.” “IT hope no ships will get wrecked,” his son replied, thinking of the storm of ten years ago, when the fishing schooner “Larabee” was wrecked on the shoals off Cape Cod. Mr. Worthington’s words came true for during that night the sea was remarkably smooth, not a breath was there stirring, but on the following morn- ing a squall came up which developed into a furious gale, accompanied by a thunder-storm. All day long the lightning flashed, sending zig-zagging streaks of light through the grey heavens. All day long the thunder crashed, now long peals and now sudden explosions, which sent shivers of fright down Jocko’s spine. All during the storm he never left Bob’s side, so great was his fright. It was late in the afternoon that Bob came running dow n the circular stairs in the tower, after having been up to look at the light. ‘Father! father!” he shouted, “‘there is a ship wrecked on the reef!” Just then there was a distant explosion, and running to the window Bob saw a rocket shoot up into the air from the ship. “A signal of distress!’? murmured he and followed his father out of the door. Jocko, not knowing the cause of this excitement, hesitated an instant, then plunged down the beach after his master. | When the latter arrived at the boat-house, strong hands were wheeling the great boat out of the house. ‘They could not use the cannon for the ship was too far out for the line to reach Now the boat was in the surf and a half dozen men with Bob and his father jumped in. After three or four attempts they got the boat beyond the breakers and put off toward the wreck. Jocko was left on the beach. What was this, anyhow? Why did they not take him, too? He crept into the shelter of the boat-house and waited for the return of the boat. After a long wait he saw an object moving in the water. Yes, it was the boat! But this time it was crammed full of men and the water was rushing in over the gunwale. Finally they landed and the life-savers disembarked, each carrying a sailor. There was Bob’s father, but where was Bob? Jocko ran