Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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:V I E IINIINIILIIIUIIL MM A W I N T E R T R A M P PAULINE VONNEGUT ' -Z' :ANY of us sigh and wish for spring to come. We f- . . . . . ,Q - Q think winter dreary, cold, and uninteresting. But, ,. ,,, :Ei 'Q , .1 ., '- Tj have you ever gone to the country on a winter day ., - - for a long tramp? Out-doors in winter is as inter- Q esting as spring, summer, or autumn. We seem to fr forget, when there is snow on the ground, that many gg-,gf .f Q animals have a hard time to find food and to keep K 3311555-f fbi I alive, that the trees develop winter buds so that they may bloom and have leaves for the next season. Y ggi! L1 fl I was out tramping one day when the ground was in-X Covered with a deep snow, as smooth and white as I, lwgfjgfjj the icing on a cake. The trees were coated with a I Y J heavy frost. Looking down the road, the spreading branches of the larger trees interlocked overhead. They were black, but this was relieved by the white covering of ice crystals. Not even a small twig was without its winter dress, thus making a delicate outline against the pale blue sky. The scene resembled a beautiful etching. The snow crunched under foot as I went down the road. A junco flitted across in front of me, showing a flash of its white outer tail-feathers as it perched on a bush by the road. The soft gray of its body blended perfectly with the background, it was quiet only for a second, just long enough for me to see its small white bill. Farther on, a brown creeper crept spirally up a tree, using its tail for a brace. High among the branches the brilliant red plum- age of a cardinal contrasted sharply against the black and white. I left the road as it turned to go up the hill, and descended the path at the edge of the field. The rays of the sun broke through the clouds, making the white field sparkle like a diamond. Going a short distance down the path I decided to cross the field and go to the river. It was evident that I was not the first traveler to cross the field since the snow had fallen. The footprints of a rabbit were the first that I came upon. Near-by were the foot- prints of another four-footed animal, which were not familiar to me. Stoop- ing to examine them, I found that two impressions were in the same line, two others were in front, one farther forward than the other. When near the edge of the field, I saw the tracks ofa rat which crossed and recrossed at many points. I followed to see where the rat came from, and after some time found a hole in the snow from which the animal had emerged, but the tracks that led back into the opening were very different. They were smaller and there was no tail mark in the snowg a rat always drags his tail. I left the field and went to the edge of the river. On the way, there was a

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lllllllllllllllllllllllllli A BOY'S LIFE IN BOOKS often as Mr. Fitzhugh and Mr. Appleton continued to put their ideas into print during the next two years, the boy was their ardent reader. At about the age of thirteen another change came. Sports and athletic stories became his favorites. Football, baseball, and basket ball stories oc- cupied his reading time. At sixteen the boy began to like other things. Scott's Waverley novels, Duma's 'tThree Guardsmenj' The Count of Monte Cristo, and The Man in The Iron Mask, were found very interesting. 'Sentimental Tommy and Tommy and Grizelj' by James Stuart Barrie, were read and re-read. First, the little boy had liked the rhythm and pictures of Mother Goose. Then next, things with a simple plot had interested him. A little later, fairy tales, developers of the imagination, appealed to him. In a few years he changed his taste to hero stories. Then the trashy age, during which time the boy's cap-pistol became a searing six-shooter. Later, as the boy became greatly interested in athletics, books about the games he played appealed mostly to him. Finally, the books which were also literature entered into his life. Here the theme must end for here the boy ends. Yet, although the little boy has changed to the older boy, and although the older boy does not run the bright red fire-engine on the black rug and dirty up his knees, the same mother, who first piloted the boy on the high sea of literature, still finds it necessary at times to rechart his course to cultural happiness. r'1,Foqas.W pllk W L l

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mmlmmr A WINTER TRAMP wild cucumber vine with some pods on it which stirred slightly with the wind. Some great mint plants with their peculiar square stems stood head high among the milk-weed stalks and bushes. From one side to the other, the river was frozen with blocks of hummock ice. I scanned the banks in hopes of iinding some ducks, but not even one was to be seen. Brushing aside the snow, and poking under the dead leaves where I stood, a bright bit of green caught my attention. Hidden away from the rest of the world, leaves were forming on the plants which later would brighten the countryside with their beauty. The well known phrase of Shelley's came to my mind, If winter comes, can Spring be far behind? It is worth thinking about. Just before coming to the road, I noticed the tracks of a bird and looking closely, saw the marks the wings had made as the bird spread them to fly away. Walking briskly down the road, I heard a familiar rat-tat overhead. Looking up, I spied a downy woodpecker hanging upside down on the limb of an old elm tree, hunting for his dinner. On the other side of the road, a song-sparrow began to sing lustily, but ended abruptly on a high note in the middle of his song. Had he decided it was too cold to sing? I wonder. As a gust of wind blew the loose flakes of snow swirling down the road, the faint shouts from a coasting party echoed from the hill, and turning away, I started for home. , L 4: If Mums , 1 y r as ' 5 9 .. an O, 3 fo Hnifa Knox.