West Fairmont High School - Maple Leaves Yearbook (Fairmont, WV)

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Hr-High 0 'rn N i' 3 I i o V 6 ' 1 C tai : . 7' -' N 'f r ' 'T 52 H B W th: 9 'DNf- A if il 1 . W 'il V ' ,z ..:'1.fi13-' ' ,I ,J W His muscles ached with weariness and his soft hands were blistered and caloused from the unaccustomed toil, but all ills were as naught by comparison with the secret happiness he drew from the creative activity. He forgot to mope over his lost estate: forgot the stern task-mistress by his side: forgot his own identity in this new pleasure. At last the boat was finished and the oars lay ready. You made no seat for me, said his companion. What does that signify? I intended leaving you at the earliest opportunity anyway. And he skimmed merrily over the skimmering ocean. For hours he pursued a direct and steady course. Then he encountered a ship which he hailed and boarded. After much controversy he succeeded in convincing the crew of his regal station and the worthiness of his mission. So enchanted were they by his eloquence that, being of rather inconsistent natures, they altered their own course in order to transfer him the more rapidly to his objective. Before long the Prince found to his chagrin that the new craft was one of those affairs that wander aimlessly over the seas, no port in view, no steady hand at the helm. Discipline was unknown to the jovial sailors who lived for the pleasure of the moment. The new arrival had momentarily concen- trated their thoughts upon a novel idea, but their minds, like their ship, hopped erratically about, and one gloomy night the unfortunate vessel was struck by a sudden squall and stranded on a beach that to the Prince seemed strangely familiar. At daybreak he swam ashore, finding himself once more in the sleepy little world he had left. The fingers still flashed pink and white from the mountain-crest, but the voices from the depths were hushed. Crushed by failure and inconsolable grief, the Prince surrendered his days to miserable reflections. His suffering was not alleviated by the ill-concealed scorn of his neighbors, who whispered each to each behind their hands. He thought to lay hold of the South Wind. Perhaps he will be wise now and stay at home as We have done. How superior we are! Only one did not mock and chide,-the dark taciturn figure who had been left deserted on the beach. Patiently she stood by the door of his cheerless room, unseen but making her presence known, and called at last in exasperation. Must I wait forever? Your blunder is not irrevocable. Climb the moun- tains with me and forget the missing voice. He came reluctantly, with moody eyes and dejected features, and she led him by torturous ways through almost impenetrable tangles of bushes and vines that pierced and stung his flesh maddeninglyg up bare faces of adamant rock that bruised his knees and tore pitilessly at his groping hands: by devious paths that crept perilously near the edge of abysses whose depths nauseated him, to emerge upon a broad plateau so near the peaks that his heart nearly burst with its pent-up emotion, for the hands were so near that he could discern the polished lustre of their tips. His comparison for the flrst time during their acquaintance had suffered her Page 125 l

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.M lsolg Hlgmlr ., Q Q 'ig W , Q 9 -4 . .. 'iw 4: . '. f , 5 V L v 1 1 f , ,y', ,V . . 1 WM Following the Gleam 1 HERE was once a Prince who in his infancy was taken from the K1 land of his nativity and held a captive in a green sunlit valley between the mountains and the sea. To the inhabitants, who did if not trouble themselves concerning him, he seemed but an ordinary, 9 commonplace boy, but nevertheless, he was the son of a King, and a world was awaiting the conquering of his hand. ' As he grew and became a serious-minded youth his life in the drab valley irked him. He envied the swift-winged birds that were free to soar dizzily overhead or dart airily across the billows. Many hours he spent by the sea- shore brooding over the murmuring waters and the languishing ripple of wavelets on the yielding white sand. Far off, farther than the indistinct sky-line, something was calling him- a voice that grew clearer with the passing of the golden days--no words, but a sweet, wistful note of pleading that drew a quivering response from his heart and turned his dissatisfaction to a positive loathing for the unolfending little valley and all that it represented. The mountains contributed to his state of restlessness, for up there, some- where in the proximity of their snowy crowns, pale llickers of light resolved themselves into mistic hands that beckoned alluringly. Whenever he paused in the midst of his aimless roaming, face uplifted to the heights, the lingers waved to him, sometimes tinged with the pink of dawnjor bright with the glory of sunset, but always insistently urgent, and at sight of them an almost irresistible longing would seize him, a longing to obey the gesture of the rosy Hngers, but the perpendicular face of mountain wall defied him. One day as he lay beneath the pines of the lower slopes a hushed footstep caused him to turn his head. A thin, sinister form, muifed in faded robes of coarse weave, stood near, and there was accusation in her attitude. Tell me, Prince, if you were free, what would you do? I would be led by the mountains! cried he, without a moment's hesita- tion. I would answer the voice of the sea! Foolish youth! You would drown or fall from a cliff. But there is a way, and unless you would remain in this obscure place, you must do as I bid you-in short, become my slave. Your slave! echoed the Prince. What have I, a child of royal blood, to do with one of your evident position, let alone administering to you? Not for freedom itself would I thus degrade myself. You forget that you are a captive and that I am offering the only means of escape. Besides, if you refuse, the beckoning hands and voices that you love will depart. Choose. Q And the Prince chose servitude, as every true prince does. Now build for us a boat, ordered his austere mistress. Fashion your own oars, and with your own strength make your way across the waters. You shall see the fair possessor of that crystal clear voice. Joyfully the Prince fell to the task. Day by day he labored and planned. Page 124

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0,1-Hfgkwn N . f gi 1 lf f : 3 I .1 , 3 a 6, I 4 c , r . ' . fON 'Ai , ,I ' 'fi ,WJ !1,i3'i'infgf,if 1fff if 'kzrjzgh ,g,fla9,d 4f . ' ff f 37555 fyfql, heavy veil to fall, disclosing a face which, had he only looked-I But he did not. She spoke to him in musical tones now, but they fell upon deaf ears. Just ahead your reward awaits you, and at the journey's end we part. But remember me when you no longer need me. I am often salled the Blessing of the Ages, but my name is Toil. Toil, he repeated musingly, then scoflingly, Toil, you, the most cruelly delusive of all with whom poor mortals have to deal! See, pointing toward the lowlands, a broad highway paves the way. We might have had an unrestricted road, but you, choosing to hurt me, dragged me over the most excruciatingly difficult paths in existence. A blessing! he continued passion- ately. You have brought me only pain and regret: you are more of a curse than a benefit, and I will finish my journey without you. Up the broad highway, which, though he knew it not, his own weary feet had paved, a carriage was coming toward them. Without one backward glance he ran to meet it, sprang inside, and rode in state to the very crest of the eleva- tion, where he alighted with buoyant step and singing heart. The hands were gone. With a disconsolate cry the Prince flung himself face downward on the unsympathetic gray stones. Who is this bright Being that bends lovingly over his prostrate form? Not Toil, surely, but yes, a glorified Toil who smiles tremendously under his searching gaze, for her face is revealed, her beautiful face with soulful eyes holding out to him on the brink of despair a promise of better things to be. How very beautiful you are! he said softly. I thought you old and ugly. I have lost all that I hold most dear, but if you stay with me, I shall be content. ' Poor blind boy! she replied tenderly, have you not yet learned that it is only through toil that dreams and hopes may be realized? They are not dead, those beautiful fantasies are real and they may yet be yours. Back to his home in the valley she led him. To his home? His kingdom! For on the site of his former humble dwelling arose the Mansion of Fulfilled Hopes and Dreams Realized from which pink fingers beckoned and sweet voices rang out in songs and glad cries of welcome. INA BRYNER, 27 Page IZ6