Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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'U'-CHE IDYKYMIGC--lr' He felt, in a troubled way, his lips moving. They were faintly forming a tune. It was My Soldier Boy, the tune he had so often heard his brother whistle. Someone coming down the hall was humming it, he thought. Sis, of course-and, oh, yes, Art would be whistling it, too, out there, somewhere. An ache clutched his throat. His head fell back against the soft leather of the chair. His clenched hands relaxed. The locket fell to the floor and its crystal shattered. A shudder passed over his body and his eyes closed in pain. The barriers were down, the flood-gates were open. His cup of bitterness had overflowed. . A cool hand was laid across the Derelict's forehead. Sis was there. Sis understood. , ' I A ..... ppak - HELEN ATEN. R. EVE IQIIIG In CHE GGUIZ CRY E WERE sitting upon a large veranda, screened from the road with peony and rose of Sharon bushes. From the large garden on the left, arose millions upon millions of fire-flies, like perpen- dicular waves, which receded and then began again. Night was falling upon the wide and solemn country-side. The last without malice, yet reluctantly. The moon was just ascending K---N behind a cluster of trees, which stood whispering and sagely nodding, as if to announce their radiant visitor. Lavishly did she repay them, showering 'lher silver beams unrestrainedly. She reached the top, and the fields shown in tinsel glory. The corn shocks rose like so many wigwams. Fields and fields, until the, eye reached the horizon, where the first stars were visible. Ah, the stars! Shining, twinkling myriads of them! We could say, think, feel no more. Our souls were wraptg our hear blood, pulsing red, throbbed with purest ecstasy. A far-away cry of a near owl broke through the stillness. A cricket chirped his song. The winds gently tossed our hair. Were we inspired? As each star rayed its brightness ungrudgingly, lovingly, so we resolved to give the best in us. The brightness of each individual star makes the heavens a world of diamonds: the virtue of every man will bring peace on earth, good will to men. - - -HELEN WHITMAN. w w w, gray vestige of dusk surrendered as one great general to another,

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-A--cn'-z mwK2l..lc',z:-A- The minutes dragged on. He could hear Sis's fingers tapping nervously on the table behind him. He glanced at -Art, who was bending down, poking the fire in a nervous fashion. How the fiery red of his hair was illumined by the firelight! I - Heavens! Couldn't he put the poker down without slamming it? Now he was striding to the table. Oh, hang it all! he was bringing the cigarette case. Won't you have one, kid '? , - What right had Art to call him kid? -How much older did he think he was! . And when would Art learn that this kid couldn't smoke? He wasn't good for anything but candy, or chewing gum, or some of your soft stuff. No, thanksg I-I believe not. U-ugh! He felt as though he were chok- ing, and he reached up to give a nervous tug at his collar. Just then he heard Sis's foot give an impatient kick, and then she came to perch herself on the arm-of his chair, to check the enemy's fire. A fold of her dress fell across his knee. He touched it reverently. What a warm, soft brown it was. How ex- quisitely it blended with the subdued shades of the room, like the soft brown of her 'hair and the cool grey of her eyes.. But come! come! He must make conversation at any cost. Er, when is it your boat leaves ? Now he knew it was useless to ask that question. Hadn't he heard them not half an hour ago saying they wished they knew how long 'it would be after Art reached the coast before the transport would sail for France? - Just then the clock out on the stairs struck. The time was up. Sis arose hastily and went to the door. - i The moment had come! He looked up at Art and saw, with the keen annoy- ance of his sensitive nature, so regardful of the minor details of dress, so pain- fully conscious of any carelessness in another's attire-one button missing from his brother's khaki coat. That empty button-hole and the idea that Sis had clipped that button because Art was going away, set his every nerve on edge: It made him suddenly furious. - So, somehow, when his brother strode over and grabbed his hand to boom Goodbye I that locket was in the other hand.. He managed to stammer, I- I-goodbye, I mean, and good luck. . Thenhe pressed the big, clumsy hand ever so lightly and swallowed hard. His brother was gone. The parting was over, and the invalid, vaguely aware of the sound of the footsteps passing down the hall to the outer door, bent forward in the firelight and laid his left hand stifiiy upon his knee. Then he opened it slowly, as though afraid and yet determined to look within. There, in the shadowed light, he saw the ugly white marks the locket had made in his clenched hand. '

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qi ,, I. buunu Q U 9 A' y 1. Xu rf 1 I 4 A ' ' '-: xL:i...2.,' -14' l . . , T au h :gi . 9 ' WAX It ' - . 0 , 11 I iv ' , it in ' l ' rl .. f '1 . ' ' '. 4 - 1 - EPR COUUEYCIIQGES ' i ANDSOME, haughty limousine, rolling 'long the boulevard, Noiseless, polished limousine, gliding up the drive, . - Moving up the, avenli-eu M, L Just as tho thclffi none but you. 6 9 X Proud, hang tv, limousine. U' I Runty, grunty, li' chugging dup the hill, A Balky, dirty, little sing where u will, Q' Jolting over pavem-. gh, Braving, plowing roads unopened: democratic, Funny little Ford. -HORACE P. HILL. FGK FHS GGUIQCKYTS' ORE than one small boy in the school room that afternoon was blessing Mr. Frye for making his geography so large. All sorts of secret maneuvers were carried on safely behind that rampart. w There was a steady stream of wireless and written messages. lt was no interruption at all to murmur nonchalantly a don't James Durfield, Jr., having duly received his usual three zeros and feeling free from all further class obligations, looked stealth- ily around the room to observe the doings of the world about him. Finding no outside amusement, and his nobler feelings ruling at ' that moment, he felt inspired to serve his country. After the preliminary furtive glances at the teacher, he produced a series of intertwined strands of multi-colored wool, terminating in a speckled, twisted oblong, fast- ened to two huge wooden knitting needles. Grabbing hold of one of them he viciously stabbed his handiwork at the point oi connection with the other needle, and slowly describing a perfect arc I fl 'y I 'V know now and then, if you happened to hear your name called.