Richmond High School - Shield Yearbook (Richmond, CA)

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Ile stooped down and picked up the ring. It seemed like an old friend. Tom went over and sat down under the tree. he doubt of the day before came to his mind. Was she true to him or was it only for the diamond she had been searching? As he sat thinking and doubting, he saw her walking briskly up the slope. As she came nearer he rose and held cut his hand. ‘‘Good morning, Miss West. =o Wily. vood morning, Tom—Mr. Hollis. I thought you ha gone back to work.’ | ‘‘Oh. no. 1 have the rest of the week. Shall we sit down?’’ Then they fell foolishly silent. Finally Tom asked, ‘How does it happen you came to the tree?”’ Marjory gave him a quick look, then shifted her glance to the toe of her shoe, ‘‘Oh—I1l’’—she stammered, ‘‘I was just out for a walk. But why are you here?’’ Tom smiled. He had noticed how frequently her hand felt the finger where the ring had been. ““Do you miss the ring?’’ he asked. ‘‘Oh, Tom, miss it? It seems as of a part of my life were gone. I haven’t slept a wink for four nights, I’ve missed it so.”’ ‘ But is that all you miss, little girl?’’ I shall not repeat what followed and I’m sure if yeu were in their place you would not want me to. Those of you who have had experience will know and those who have not would not understand should I explain, so I shall only add that half an hour later two people, a man and a girl, might have been seen walking slowly down the hill and that the girl wore a diamond on the fourth finger of her left hand. HELEN SMITH, ’14. Cwilight A quiet grayness folds the land, Faint stars gleam overhead, The moonbeams dance so quietly, When night and day are wed. HAROLD E. SMITH, ’15.

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‘‘T suppose so.”’ So Tom pulled the branch down to let Marjory hang the ring on a little twig, then Tom left it fly. Just a twinkle as the branch fiew up and the ring was gone. Tom glanced at Marjory. Her eyes were on the ground. ‘‘Shall we go back?’’ he asked. She nodded and they started down the slope. They didn’t say much on the way back, but when they reached her gate, Mar- jory held out her hand. ‘‘Good-bye, Tom,’’ she said with tears in her voice. Tom took her hand. ‘‘Good-bye, little Marjory. I want you to know that I love you now and always shall and in a year I’m coming back to tell you this again if Kelly’’—he broke off and his tone changed. ‘‘I hope you have a good time this year.”’ Marjory looked up into his face reproachfully, ‘‘Why, Tom.” But Tom dropped her hand, raised his hat and turning, hastened down the street before she had time to finish. Three days passed and Tom made no effort to see Marjory again, three days in which he had tried to eonvince himself that in breaking the engagement he had thought only of her happiness. ile longed for something of hers, something symbolic of their broken bond. Always came the thought of the ring. Where had it fallen? On the fourth day, he walked out toward the tree determined to search for it. It would be some comfort at least to have some- thing she had once loved. He strolled along with his eyes on the ground until he was almost at the tree and suddenly he saw Marjory. She, too, was walking with her eyes on the ground, evidently in search of something. It was the ring, of course. Tom was taken by surprise and, making sure she had not seen him, he turned and hurried back the way he had come. When he was out of sight he sat down on a log to rest and think. Was she looking for the diamond because ‘+ was a diamond? She did so love jewels. But could she be so heartless? And then he wondered if she could be looking for the ring for the same reason he was, for what it symbolized. Was she unhappy, too? Still wondering he went home. Next morning the first question that came to him was, ‘‘l wonder if she found the ring.’’ Curious to know whether she had found it or not, he hastened to the tree half expecting to see her there before him, but she was no where about. He left relieved and immediately began to search. He looked over every foot of eround where he thought the jewel could have fallen, but no ring was to be found. Recalling one of the diversions of his boyhood, he drew down the branch from which they had thrown the ring and tying a small stone loosely on the little twig, let it fly and throw back the stone in the same direction it had thrown the ring. He went to where it had fallen. It was quite a different direction from the one in which he had been searching. He looked all around the place and had almost given up hope, when his eye was attracted by a little gleam of sunlight in the grass. 11

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he tes mle { he! her yi oT. - + bel Au Old Friend in Nef Clothes [ th all ye And what is so rare as a Jack anda Jill? n asked Who, together, the brooklet seek, And mount up the hill their bucket to fill, l her o To carry it home, with demeanor meek. was jt Vhether we look or whether we listen, L i We know Jack’s fallin’ and know Jill’s slippin.’ me Every clod feels a stir of might As Jack’s head hits it a goodly smite. 5 Jill, groping blindly around for support aie Follows him then as a sister ’ort. id JACK PARKS, ’13. ON Wi! dl ot hon Jill’s brother falls from the well’s stone walls walking With the famous bueket old in story 1 on t The voice of Jili comes from the hill mi Sparkles and leaps in gleeful glory. oe ‘ Roll, Jackie, roll, Set the loosened rocks flying; Answer, Jack, answer!’’ ‘‘I’m going, going, going!’’ MYRTLE BAILEY, 713. iow oft she recalled the sweet pleasures of childhood With fond recollections of dear brother Jack. They dawdled along to the spring in the wildwood To fill the old bucket and earry it back. The hill was so steep and the path was so slushy Their little arms ached and they dreaded a spill. Jack slipped in a mud hole so sloppy and mushy And spilled all the water on poor little Jill. The dear little bucket, Oh! why did he chuck it So far down the hillside And treat it so ill! GRACE SMYTH, 713.