Technical High School - Tech Tiger Yearbook (Springfield, MA)

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T-HS Ubi? wriole : 1907 21 an orange, a wooden sword whittled from a pine shingle, a pair of heavy shoes, and, last of all, what was it? Dad, what is it? was the question that broke the silence. Well, they say at the town, as that be a tin model of a real engin, was the father's proud answer. Fred had often heard about engines but he had never pictured them to look so won- derful as the tin model. He forgot to eat his candy cane, forgot to play with the wooden sword. He only ran the engine back and forth in front of the fire. His father watched him and gave him valuable instructions as to which lines on the rag carpet should be the tracks, which the cross roads, and which the rivers or brooks. What a happy day that Christmas was with the sturdy boy absorbed in his steam engine, the strong father enjoying the pleasure of his boy, and the pretty mother rejoicing because the others were so gay. The clock told the hour with a sound like ten blows of a hammer upon an anvil, the picture faded from the fire and gave place to another. It was an autumn afternoon about ten years later. The father was driving home a yoke of oxen hitched to awagon loaded with yellow corn stalks. He stopped to rest on the crest of a knoll where he could obtain a good view of the town road along which he was expecting to see a lad coming with a bundle of books and a lunch box under his arm. Toward the west the road wound its crooked course to the big white farm house built against the foot of a high mountain. The lad came into sight around a bend in the road, and when he saw his father on the knoll broke into a run. Dad, he cried, running up to him, the railroad is coming through the town and best of all it will run over the very place that can be seen from our old mountain top. The father looked thoughtfully into his eager face. Be you as sot on bein' an engineer as ever? he asked. Yes, Dad, was the quick reply, Hand just think you can walk up the moun- tain in the afternoon and watch for my train to go by. Then when I rush over the place where I can see the old mountain, I'll blow the whistle and you'll see the steam, and know that I'm

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The fire saw his thoughtful mood and, ceasing w 20 Ube Gtiole : 1907 Vvf. iv The Flag-Pole on the MOUHtHlH BY H. MALCOLM PIRNIE 1 HE old-fashioned clock stood in the corner of i the large room, monotonously ticking away the F' ' tt minutes. The fire crackled and Hickered in the I' great stone fire-place as it slowly devoured the V large pine logs while the ruddy light rushed forth and danced upon the white walls seeming to hold itself away from a large dark spot, the A shadow cast by an old man sitting in a great ' chair with his head resting on one hand, dreamily EB watching the fairy light playing about the knots. its merry-making, began to form pictures of a handsome young man, a pretty wife, and a curly-headed boy. Then all the danc- ing lights found quiet places and watched the old man's past as it glided by. It was a Christmas morning forty years ago and the air was so bitterly cold that it sparkled in the yellow streaks of morning sunshine. The newly replenished ire roared with delight and shot its glad flames up the great chimney. A little stocking, bulging with mysterious bundles, hung by a string from the man- tel. Suddenly a sleepy sigh issued from the open door of a bed- room, but no sooner was it uttered than an outburst of childish joy announced that little Fred was awake and knew that the time at last had come to look at his stocking. He burst forth with a laugh that ended in a loud hurrah as he spied the long hoped-for wonder. Then he calledthat his Dad and Mother might see it also. Dad entered first, a tall handsome man with great broad shoulders and a face that beamed with good, cheer. He was followed by his pretty wife, a noble featured woman, small and delicate, with soft calm eyes that were mirrors of a good soul. They sat down by the fire and watched the sturdy little fellow as he dragged out the presents one by oneg a candy cane,

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22 Ube 011016 : 1907 V0f- iv looking for you. They said no more but slowly drove the oxen home where the mother was anxiously waiting for them. Fred unloaded the wagon and turned the cattle out to pasture. That night when the boy had finished his studying and gone to bed, his father broke a long period of silence by saying to his wife, The boy be sot on leavin' and it would be cruel to make him stay. I had hoped he would be here to run the farm when I got old and was fit to work no more. There be many hundreds of acres of timber land as 'ill want cuttin' in his day and aint ripe yet for me to cut. But if we ask him to stay he'll not be happy for his one ambition is to be an engineer. We must let him go, motherg he'll come home to us often. A log in the fire broke and rolled out on the hearth. The old man rose mechanically and pushed it back with the toe of his boot. Then resuming his seat he again became absorbed in the slowly passing pictures. Eighteen -years had passed since the boy left home and no word had been received from him at the old white farm house for more than ten years. The father had climbed the mountain late every afternoon to watch for the whistle on the little stretch of track. But this day he could not go up for his wife lay very ill and could not live. The doctor told him that her life lingered like the flame of a candle-and would go out in a very few hours. She talked of her absent boy. He isn't dead or he wouldlhave spoken to me in my dreams. I have seen him, though, oh so often in the past few days. He is in some distant place and can't get back to us. Last night I dreamed there was a tall straight flag- pole on the mountain top and that one evening, as you were taking down the Hag, an engine whistled on the track. It was Fred coming home. She stopped and turned her eyes on her husband. He was such a grand old man with white hair and a long Howing white beard. He seemed the reflection of the man by the fire. His eyes were filled with tears as he took the hand of the fading flower on the bed before him. She looked pleadingly at him and asked: When I have left you for a little while, I want you to do some- thing for me. Hunt through your forest and find the tallest