Arcata High School - Advance Yearbook (Arcata, CA)

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and made his way back to the buggy. In solemn silence they drove off, the mocking word married re-echoing in the Colonel's brain. When they reached Wellsburg they found the banquet already in prog- ress. Cecil Grey was welcomed heartily when the people recovered some- what from their surprise. At length came Colonel J. R. Lenning's speech. Never had be been more eloquent. Never had the tears coursed so freely down the cheeks of the ladies in his audience. Never had his gestures been more majestic, his words more intense. But just as he reached the sounding climax, a scream rang through the hall. Cecil Grey sprang to her feet and cried to Colonel R. Lenning, Where is my child-my precious Pet? NYhere have you put him ? . At the same instant there rushed into the room an unknown woman, who made her way toward Colonel R. Lenning demanding her child, and de- manding of everyone who opposed her, And what business had he taking the child of an honest woman, and carrying it off in a basket ? Ten minutes later, Colonel R. Lenning, under arrest for kidnapping a baby, aritl with the words Not married! Only a poodle dogf' Hitting through his dazed brain, stood feebly gazing at the moon repeating mechancially to himself, The ladies-God bless 'em. LAURA CAMPBELL, '14. Btzams of bums Oft when at school I think of home,- There, where my thoughts have always flown To places that I'd always seek, When, tired of being ever meek, I'd run away. For there no one might speak so sharp And always make me toe the mark, For only birds and wild things look Upon the peaceful hidden brook, So far away. On one side is a mountain steep, And on its right a chasm deep, In front is that dear little brook, That makes it such a cozy nook And keeps all foes away. And there in sorrow I'd oft run For comfort, they had always some, In joy I always went right there To tell them of my new found cheer And drive all gloom away. , Then at a quick command and sharp, I return to earth with a sudden start, And then my thoughts in sorrow turn To the fact that lessons I must learn, And leave my dreams so far away. , LA VERNE PRESTON, 'l5. Forty-three

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'Wllibz lamina-Goh Elms 'QEm Colonel I. R. Lenning,-no person ever presumed to call him Colonel, or Lenning,,' or anything at all save his full title-was standing before his mirror, waving his pudgy hands in majestic gestures as he rehearsed his speech for the evening. Speechmaking was the Colonel's occupation. He was called upon for a speech at every banquet, at every ball, and at every political meet- ing. And always and invariably his speeches ended with the words, The ladies-God bless 'em. C The Colonel was a tall man and stout, with the overgrown stoutness of a Habby mushroom. His hands and feet were small and well groomed. His collars were white and shining, but above them always hung a thick red layer of flesh, creased and unhealthy looking. His face also was llorid save his nose, which was very white with blue dents in the nostrils. His eyes, close-set near his nose, were sharp and twinkling, and unwinking in gaie., Their cold. shallow depths were unshaded save by the lashless lids, and surrounded by layers of fat. His lips were full and protruding, his mouth very small and dimpled at the corners. But Colonel J. R. Lenning could only be known in his full glory when. at a banquet, with a bland smile illuminating his shining countenance and a sentimental tear trickling slowly among the hills and valleys of his cheeks, he would fold his hands over his ample stomach, and gazing up to heaven say in a choking whisper, The ladies-God bless 'em. As the Colonel thus spoke these words to an imaginary audience there was an excited knock, and into the room burst Hiram Brown, a near neighbor of the Colonel's. There has been a wreck, ten miles from here, he cried. Mn Grey will not be here for the banquet. What shall we do ? Cecil Grey was the new school teacher and a banquet had been planned for his reception. Colonel R. Lenning rose to the occasion. Follow me, he commanded. and strode to where his horse and buggy was waiting to convey him to the reception. As he stepped into the buggy he turned and addressed his assem- bled friends. I will bring the young man back at risk of life and limb, and will then submit him to the tender ministrations of the ladies-God bless 'emfy As he drove on his way a satisfied smile played about his lips despite the discomfort of the drive. For if the unknown teacher, his threatened rival for feminine attention, were the victim of the wreck, was not he, Colonel R. Lenning, the hero? At length he arrived at the scene of the disaster but could see no young man awaiting his arrival. In fact he was told that no young man had been on the train that morning. As he stood pondering this unpleasant news, he heard a voice saying, There's Colonel R. Lenning, ma'am. He's a school trustee of Wellsbiirg. Heis looking for you novv,', and turning, found himself confronted by a young and decidedly pretty woman. Clasping her hands, she leaned toward him, crying, Oh, Colonel Lenning, I am Cecil Grey. Do take me from this horrible place, but first find my precious pet, my darling child. I have lost him. Colonel J. R. Lenning, who had been viewing with stunned surprise but with great delight this lovely creature, returned to earth with a shock as he heard these last words, but his gallantry conquered his dismay and he escorted the young lady to the buggy, and bravely took her basket, in which he was informed that precious pet was always carried. He wandered helplessly, but vainly about, seeking for a lost child, and at length came upon one playing in front of the station. XfVith a sigh of relief Colonel J. R. Lenning picked up the child, placed it in the capacious basket F arty-two if 3 Br

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115132 Mailers j The night was bitter cold. A fine white snow fell noiselessly on the paved street. Flickering lamps lighted the streets and dark alleys and displayed young men and women trudging slowly to their work, bearing in their hands their midnight lunch pails. In the distance loomed up the murky shadows of a great cotton mill, and near it a huge steel plant. Now and then the heavens were illumined with a ruddy glow as the old kettles of molten iron were turned into the earth molds to cool and harden. In this direction the night toilers were wending their way. Among them was a woman carrying a babe in her shivering bare arms. She also was making her way toward the great cotton mill. As she trudged along with these toilers she thought of the past. Not two years ago she too had gone back and forth to the mill. Those were happy times. She remem- bered how she met one who later became her husbandg how they had joked as they worked side by sideg how this liking had developed into love and they had been married. They had rented and furnished a small home, where they lived happily and contentedly together. A baby girl was born and they named it after her. All these remembrances passed through her weary brain as she walked toward the mills. Since the death of her husband three months ago, the whole world had changed for her. There was no happiness in anything that she did. She soon spent all the money that they had saved, and the furniture was all sold. The rent was due but there was no money to pay it. So again she joined the laborers. When she came to the factory she went bravely up to the office door and knocked. She was admitted, but in a few minutes came out again, a look of failure and distress on her face. She was young, yet wrinkles of care furrowed her pretty features. Her dress was rent in many places. A red shawl was folded over her shoulders and down around the sleeping infant. Neglected, jet black hair fell in un- kempt masses about her. Two bare arms were red with cold, yet her face was pale, and no winter wind and snow could again bring the rosy hue back to it. She stood a long time as if in doubt what to do. Then suddenly a fearful smile stole over her unhappy and careworn countenance, and with a firm, hurried step, made her way toward the business section of the great city. For more than three hours she walked through the streets. She seemed not to notice the biting cold, for some intent purpose racked her brain. At last she came to a large and beautiful mansion. It was the home of Mr. Castleton, the owner of the cotton mill in which she had worked, and in which her husband had been killed. She took the shawl from her shoulders, wrapped it around her babe and laid it tenderly on the porch. But as she did so a pang of pity and remorse sprang up within her. She drew the child up in her arms again and clasped it close to her breast. Again and again she wondered if she were doing the right thing. Should she take the babe, and let it starve, or should she give it to one who owed it a living? At last she persuaded her- self to leave the child, and with a last kiss upon its tiny lips, she laid it down upon the porch, rang the door bell, and stumbled out into the dark street. Hearing the bell, Mr. Castleton sent the servant to the door, and in a few moments she returned bearing a baby in her arms. To the shawl was pinned a note, which read as follows: The wheels of your factory crushed'out the life of my husband. Starving and homeless I tried to obtain work but you turned me away to die. I think you owe this, my child, a home and living. Your Toilerf' F arty-four