Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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RASTUS — KLEPTOMANIAC Kiistus! Is that you out in Ihuit cliit- ' kcu house ' ? No, Marse Ed, ' taint. Itastus, Kastus homo in bed. ' ou black rascal! Don ' t I ' e to nie! Dro)) that ::ig full of the Ijord knows what, aicL come licre to mo ! ' ' From the dusky recesses of the chicken house, a shambling figure with drooping, dis- consolate head advanced toward tlie erect figure of Young Ed. He was just back from college in the North, the joy of his widower father and the terror of the plumb lazy nig- gers of the plantation. Now look here, Eas tus, we can ' t stand this any longer! When we gave you another chance after you borrowed all the water- melons from the kitchen garden, you prom- ised to keep to the straight and narrow path ; but I guess it ' s no use to try to reform such worthless black trash as you are. Let me tell you this, you young imp of Satan! — you ' d have been sent packing long ago if it hadn ' t been for your mammy, the best foster-mother an orphaned Southern lad, such as 1 was, ever had. It would break Mammy Chloe ' s heart if she knew about your disreputable actions! ' Deed and ' deed, Marse Ed, I didn ' t wanna take that mizahle olc chicken. He raised pleading eyes, with the whites gleaming stavt- lingly in the moon-light, to the unrelenting figure above him in the shadow of the white pillared back verandah of the old ancestral mansion which had been the home of the Dinsmores for generations past. I didn ' t wanna take him, with a contemp- tuous side kick at the shapeless bulk in the linrlap bag he had dropped at his feet, F reckon the debbil done drog me in, Marse Ed. As usual, blaming evei ' ything on livs Sa tanic Majesty. But, say, Ilastus, perhai)S yon are a kleptomaniac! — the thought burstini; out excitedly. I dunno Avhat that kep-klep-er what chu sed — I don ' know what he is but I guess I ' m him all right — hopefullj ' . Well, if that is the case, it isn ' t your fault — soi ' t of an instinct, 1 supiiose ' — thought- fully said Marse Ed. ' , cagc ' ly, that ' s wliat it is .Marse Ed-- •t ' s a, stink — brimstone. I smelt it on de deb liil when he drug mo in de chicken pen! Well, Itastus, said Edwai-d, su|)]iressing a smile, you don ' t understand, that ' s all. I rememhej- hearing a lecture on that very thin.; at college. I shall try out some of my the- ories on you, Rastus. The evening is still young. Come into my study and let me get an insight into the machinations of your mind at such periods. In. the shadow ' y lujok-lined study Marse Ed proceeded to examine his servant who an- swered everything in the affirmative hopin;; to escajjo unscathed by humoring his mas ter ' s whims. Now Eastus, sit here and tell me how you feel when these impulses to--er--take things come upon you, Um, er, it ' s sort of an all-gone feelin;;;, boss. ' All gone ' , hm, perhaps your conscious will-power deserts you. Yessir, debbil drags me ' long by de han ' . ' ' Very interesting, very interesting — thoughtfully stroking his upper lip on which a manly fuzz was just beginning to show. Well, tell me how you felt tonight. ' ' Well, I wuz a getting ready for bed — So early? Yassir. V ' hen all of a suddint the roo ' u got all lighted up like a fiery furnace — and I was in the midst of it — and the windas fell in and the room got full of black smoke an ' en I saw dat red debbil a jumpin ' in thru the hole in the wall! An he grinned at me with his long pointed teeth a shinin ' and he said, ' Come along, Nigger ' ; so I come along, and I was scared white — you bet! An ' he led me to your chicken house — At this moment there was an uproar from the chicken house. Hens cackled, and rooster? screeched and the two i)rize ganilers made more noise than a Ford factory. Them niggers has come to finish up the job r started! exclaimed Rastus to himself. forgetting Young Ed ' s presence. What! It was all planned! You youiiij scoundrel! Come with me. A hasty search revealed two negro lads about Rastus ' age lying concealed with their booty behind the chicken house. Collaring them all. Young Ed removed their prey from the relaxed terrified figvires and marched then, before him into the wood shed. The next thirty minutes was devoted to the using of the worn leather strap hanging ther ' ' for just sucJi occasions; and then three verv sore bl;u ' k boys slunk away to their respective luuni ' s, all firmly resolved to remain far, far away fiom larso Ed Pijismore ' s vicinity in the future. DOROTHY HARRIS, ' 25,

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THE MODERN DIOGENES He was just ii plain, simple, law-abiding detective. He smoked a pipe, as all detec- tives do, and all in all he reminded me very miieii of the well-known and much-loved Sher- lock Holmes. I had met him several times and our acquaintanceship was becoming more and more congenial. On this particular morning I discovered him on one of Boston ' s most prominent streets. He wore a long gray ulster and a ponderous cap with far-reaching visor. Tlic inevi|table pipe was protruding from one corner of his mouth. Pie was walking along, bent over in the act of scrutinizing through a magnifying glass, something that evidently lay along the sidewalk. Being much interested, I went up and tapped him on the slioulder. He started as if from a profound reverie. ' ' Ah, it is you, is it? lie said, smiling his peculiar one-sided smile brouglit about Iiy :i compression of the lips to hold the pipe in place. Sure, it ' s me, I replied, having uothing better to say and feeling certain tha.t t!ie grammatical error would never be noticed by one so absorbed in hi|S work. What ' s the mat- ter? I continued; out of a job? No, he said. On the contrary, I am vciy busy. Sijenco enstied while I watched him. Thi n I said, What arc you hunting for? Did somebody lose a diamond out of their wedding ring? There was a moment of silence which fol- lowed and I began to speculate on the prob ability of a reply. Tlien in his uncanny voice, No, I ' m hunting for honesty! I jumped, i(t came so suddenly, desi)ite his delay in returning an answer. Honesty! T repeated, honesty doesn ' t leave footprints, docs it? On the contrary, he replied, it gives very marked evidence of its presence. I waited with growing impatience for him to speak. At last he paused in his work to say : Look at that man ' s footprint for instance. ' ' I looked. SeeJpg nothing peculiar about it, I remarked, Well, Diog enes? He looked] up at the appelation. Then grasping the connection, he smiled Ji second time. It ' s this way, he said. Of cours3 anyone that was honest would have a certain feeling of honesty about him. Tliis w ould give him a certain feeling of assurance which would show in his walk. See, this fellow has only i slight impression of the northeast part of the toe. That is the unfailirig sign of theft, no matter how small. He will carry it with him all his life. If he were honest, each part of the foot wouUl give a like impression. Now this man — hold on, ho has just purchased a pair of new shoes, so that you can ' t tell much about it. But this woman does not show the southwest part of the heel. This shows, in a woman, false pride. And so it goes on. He paused, resuming his careful study. Having nothing to say, I said it. hi a little while he went on. What are the retiuirements of honesty? Up- right conduct, no cheating, that is, being fair in every way, both to yourself and to others, no stealing, frank sincerity, candor, no deceit, and absolutely no lying. ' ■Stop, stop, I said, not so fast, surely ly- ing doesn ' t come under that list. You ' re mixed mixed up with the truth. One must be truthful to be honest, he an- swered simply. From my observations I have found that there is nobody who is hon- est, nobody, and that i,ncludes you and every- l)ody else and no free passes. But — surely — , I stammered, not liking to be accused of so gross a thing. Surely I — Vou, he said interrupting, a short while ago said, ' It ' s me. ' How many vows have you taken during Education Week that you would use nothing i)ut the best English? Are you not dishonest? I was overw-helmed. I had never looked at it in this way before. Do you mean — ? I began. 1 mean what 1 say and nothing more. Bi.t don ' t misunderstand me. A good many pc- sons think they are honest because they are not dishonest. This is not true in the way they think of it. To be dishonest they say is merely to clieal in selling something, applied especially hen thej- are the purchasers. No v, between this and honesty there is such a loophole as to enable them to crawl through. And they go about holding their heads hig ' i in the air, thinking, the while, tliat they are honest. Maj be they are; but ii ' thej ' are, I don ' t want to be honest. He left me pondering over what he had said. His slander was so vast that I could not grasp it all at once. I slowly turned and re ■ traced my steps examining them as I weut along. LOEES McCLOSKEY, ' 25.

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THE SEA IN POETRY Down llu-oiigli llio iigx ' s the sea has figiu ' Lvl Iinniiineatly in poetry. It liiis always held a certain fascination for niankiiul. Even those men who do not live at the seashore and there- fore know of the sea only by hearsay, are not free from its spell. Tlie very charaetjr of the ocean: the mysterious depths, the un- ' .lian{;iiig tides, the Iteaiity at one time, and at another the horror, the innoceiitlooking waves and again the towering majesty of tlie sea in storm have all aroused lofty feelings ' Ji the poets of the world. in ancient times the Gicek Odyssey and the Latin Aeueid were written by men who knew the sea and wrote with a deep respect for its niiglit. The. Odyssey deals with a ' .varrior returning from victory over Troy. This mortal has in some manner incurred the vrath of the gods and tiiey set out to punish him. 8 ' orm winds are aroused and drive the iiifortuiiate mortal far from liis liomeward course. lu tlie course of the story nearly every aspect of the sea is described. At one lime the liero is tlireatened l)y a whirlpool which is in action twice each day. At another the sea is calm, tiie sun shines and the hero ' s ship dances over the waves to within s ' ht of home; then by an unfortunate occurrence, the storms s))ring up again and tiie adverse winds drive the sliips off for anotlier long period. The Latin Aeneid does not have so many ocean scenes as the Odyssey but the few that are described are more stirring. Tlie reader is made to feel in sympathy witli the storm-tossed hero and re.ioice W ' h him upon reaching a safe harbor. In this poem tlie sea rises to great heights and overwhelms lofty ships. Then the stoiiii subsides and the hero, guided by a favoraI)le deity, encounters fair winds and all is well again. Jjjiter in history the sea again became the subject of poetry, this time yi the tales of tlio Norsemen. The Norsemen loved the sea, and the Norse diaracter partook of the wild nature of the sea. Their ballads dwelt at length on battles with raging seas. When high seas broke over the carved prows and I ' mions storm-winds howled overhead and churned tlie sea below, when the ship pitched and twisted, dijiped and reared, then wore the hardv Norsemen most happy. As the oarsmen toiled along the bulwarks and the leader stood unshaken at the very prow, braving the seas which broke across his chest, then the Norsemen broke forth in song. Over and over again they chanted anoien.t bal- Ia.ds, tales of just such glorious combat with the ocean. Tiie Norsemen, those hardy adventurers, ])assed ; and next came the Anglo-Saxons witli an epic Beowulf which is the story of man ' s s ' rugglc with the North Sea. Then there fol- lowed a long period in which the sea was not prominent in English poetry. Even Shake- si)eare with all his versatility did not employ tlie sea as a topic for his poems. However, Shakespeare ' s play The Tempest has, as the name implies, a groat atorm at sea and a ship- wreck. In the Eighteenth Century Coleridge wrote the immortal ballad The Rime of the Ancient Mariner . Every phase of the sea is dealt w ' .th during the course of the poem. Tiu J[ariuer starts off well and his good ship dances over the waves. But storms overtake him and then follows a series of adventures so bi .arre that only a Coleridge could tell them. Tlie sea not only has all its own char- acteristics but also many others, arising only in Coleridge ' s imagination. Later Tennyson, who lived on tlie Isle of W ' ght, and who loved the sea, wrote poems expressing a deep appreciation of the sea ' s moods. The Revenge is a poem of a naval engagement at the time of the Armada. The sea in this particular poem enters only as -i necessary part of a naval battl e. But in one of Tennyson ' s later poems, Crossing the Bar , there is the greatest understanding of the inystorious ocean. In this poem our path in life is likened to a voyage over the sea and safe arrival into port after many vicissitudes. In our time the poets have again found the sea attractive for their poems. One element of the sea has l)een very much written of, and that is the element of mystery. Shijis have left port and have never been heard from, and many inexplicable events have occurred at sea. The fact of the utter removal from tlie face of the globe of ships makes this a favorite subject for poets. Another kind of sea mystery is the famous Flying Dutchman , a full-rigged ship which was fretpiently seeu by mari iers and yet known to be only an ap paiition. This subject of unearthly sights at sea has recommended itself to the more radi- cal among our poets. Many of pur modern poets, in their search for new and be.-iutiful ideas about the com- monplace and everyday, have seized upon thii sea. They find it to offer inexhaustible sources of the unusual, full of beauty and awe- inspiring. The sea, as old as the world itself, maiik ' ,nd ' s attempts to navigate its waters,