Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

Page 24 text:

THE LIGHTS THAT FAILED out, the Iight leaped up, revealing Brownly with his face Iivid with rage and grotes ue with its wealth of the mealy contents of the brown potato skins which decorated no-longer immaculate uniform. With a splutter of anger he roared out 'form ranks' and as' the innocent looking cadets sprang into line, 'All those who threw any missile whatever at me, step one pace forward.' Brownly hardly knew what all they had thrown at him, but he did realize that not a movement broke those monotonous ranks. No allies this timeg he had been in the dark indeed, and with helpless rage he saw that their vengeance was complete. K' IF? 1 :1 Q Q u Q 'f 4 AIR CASTLES WHO, wandering inthe pathless realms of fancy, hath not discovered castles zephyr built? Who, by fairy magic hath not built his owm, only to have them fade away as smoke in air, and as the fragrance of the violet, mingle in the atmosphere? Who hath not built his golden palace diamond studded? I-Ie that hath not-alasli.

Page 23 text:

THE LIGHTS THAT FAILED seen the blooming duds before, and then resting them full on his face, said slowly and with emphasis, Eh, have I ever had the honor of your acquaintance? Behind Boyd, McLean, his best friend, and most sincere admirer, heard St. Clair's words, and step forward grabbed the latter as he turned away, with the words, 'I No, but I'Il introdiuce Liu with pleasure: Boyd- 'The Cad,' and without more ado pushed him into the e. It was not many hours ere McLean, the identified assailant as Brownly called him, was missing many recreation hours and doing much extra guard dutyg for St. Clair, lacking the honor which sealed the lips of the others, had immediately given Brownly his own revised version of the affair, and received perfect sympathy in return, and thereby were gained two things: A new name for St. Clair, namely, the Puppy, and a new feeling for Brownly, namely-contempt. I-Ienceforth and thereafter, though outwardly angelic in demeanor the cadets occu ied their spare time cudgeling their brains for suitable revenge for McI..ean and Boyd, against Brownly and St. Clair. The long mess room belonging to section two was well lighted and warm, and the wintry wind outside accentuated the solid comfort within. Brownly at the head of the table, could hardly suppress a little feeling of pride at the good form that his cadets showed upon occasions, attributing it, with naive conceit, entirely to his personal training. The young officer, who was somewhat of a dandy, was looking his best to-night, seemingly more immaculate and well groomed than usual: and he smiled condescendingly upon St. Clair, who sat at his right hand. Neither realized how those eaceful cadets could, with the aid of a slight accident, assume the' role of fates, and bring retribution upon them. In the center of the mess-table reposed a huge dish of baked potatoes, and as these were going the rounds, Brownly took occasion to rebuke some cadet for a trifling breach of table discipline. While he spoke, the eyes of all centered by habit and training upon his face. Suddenly the room was plunged into pitch darkness- the electric lights had gone out. A moment of silence, and then a sibilant little whisper ran from mouth to mouthg and if Brownly had had the eyes of a cat he could have seen on the faces so dutifully towards him, a malignant grin. There was a sudden clatter of china and silverware thrown together by hasty movements, a swish of upthrown arms- and then Brownly swore, as a chorus of thuds at his end of the table indicated how well those hands had been aimed at him, their target. Then, as suddenly as they went

Page 25 text:

The moon hangs light from a delicate bough --A bough that pierces the sky- And sheds pale beams of a lemon hue On the fields that slumbering lie: And ln the fields the blue-green grass Is half-hid in s purple haze. While. from the castle on the hill. Lights shine In a shrimp-pink maze: And on a balcony of mossy grey There leans a maid so fair, Clad ln s gown of startling white And fondling her copper hair. And down below, from the crimson shade, Steps forth a knight in blue, His heart poured forth to his lady love ln s song of lavender huel The maiden smiles a pale green smlle As she looks in his striped eyes IN POSTER LAND And leans down over the yellow rall With fluttering vlolet cries! But the critic sadly turns away. In his heart a dark-brown pain. For the day that will never. never come When the possible shall reign! The way to be a poetess is to weara Passion gown: Or if an artist you must be, let your hair grow long a-down: Wear a collar high and a flowing tie And a wise. wise look ln your weather eye, And speak of Technique and the pea-green sky And use a lorgnette when your friends pass by! Speak in audible tones of clolsonne' And rugs on which the heathens pray, Of arts and crafts, upstarts and grafts And you'll be an artist In the modern way.