A B Davis High School - Maroon and White Yearbook (Mount Vernon, NY)

Page 142 text:

WAROON AND WHITE JUST TWENTY MINUTES It all comes back to me as I sit here looking at the great old clock standing near the east window. The clock is a mas- sive structure and well-built, as every- thing was built in those long gone days of stirring adventure--adventure such as we never have today. The old clock has an aperture in it. where the pendulum swings. large enough for a small child to enter with ease. The great time-piece ceased running manyyears ago, but it had long since proved its worth. It is an an- tique much sought after by collectors but is more priceless to our family than to any of them. I have often wondered why the clock was built so large. Perhaps it was because all furniture was constructed in such tremendous proportions in those days. However, it was very lucky for my ancestor that this was so. The story con- cerning it was told to me by my father. whose grandfather found the treasured document, patched and yellow with age, on which the tale was related inside the clock. The story centers about the Car- roll house in Virginia during the Revolu- tionary War. I have read the old manu- script so many times, each time with the same amount of interest. that the prac- tically illegible words come to me from memory. My father's great-grandfather is speaking to me. I can almost see him in the shadows surrounding the old clock. My young descendant, I have told this tale to each of my children, each in his turn. I was a young boy about seven years old. I lived alone with my mother, for my father was away fighting the British to save our country from tyranny. My father was a lieutenant under our most esteemed leader, George Washington, and I hardly ever saw him, for the war never reached our remote home. My dear mother and I were often very lonesome sitting in front of the open hearth. She sat and stared into the dancing flames for long periods of time. I knew she was thinking of father at those times, wonder- ing whether he was well, or whether he was sorely wounded and in need of her care. Page One Hundred and Thirty-eight One morning early in December we received word that my father was coming home that evening for a brief stop to see us. I-Ie was carrying important papers from Washington to General Morgan. I am proud to say that many times my father was the only one whom General Washington trusted to deliver dispatches. My mother forgot all her cares and sor- rows and didn't stop singing once except to speak to me. I was happy too. for my father told me such interesting stories when he was home. I kept asking her how long it would be before he would arrive, and she always answered me: 'Just a few hours more. Johnny. Won't daddy like this pie? It's his favor- ite, and he hasn't had much to eat in a long time.' At last there remained but two hours before dad was to come. My mother was looking gayer every minute. She removed her apron and told me that she was going to meet dad. I begged to be allowed to accompany her, but she wouldn't permit it, and told me that I must stay home to protect the house from the British. This made me feel quite important, and Ireadily agreed. Before she left me, she kissed me and told me to wash myself so as to look my best for daddy. I watched her as she rode away on old Whitefoot. and stayed at the window until she had disappeared from sight. Then I got out my slate and drew pictures to pass away the time. AII at once I heard horses galloping. The sound came nearer and nearer. I jumped up joyfully. My father must have ar- rived sooner than he had expected. I ran to the door and was about to shout out when the sight that struck my eyes made me speechless. Five 'redcoats' with an of- ficer at their head were rounding the bend in the road leading up to our house. I rushed back into the house to get my coat as soon as I had regained my senses. Father must be warned. He was carrying important papers and must not come home, but before I could get my coat, I heard the enemy at the door. I ran into the parlor and became almost sick with NINETEEN THIRTYfTl-IREE

Page 141 text:

ai Love's a shimmering morning bubble Puffed all gay from pipe of moon: Spu11 aloft on breath of trouble- Burst in air-is gone-too soon! I could go on interminably glorifying Galswo'rthy's paradoxical poem Life, in which a conception of Life and Death is deftly presented: I could spend hours praising the charming comparison of the wind to a wandering gypsy in the poem Wind, and in the poem, To My Dog. written as now you pull my' sleeve g I could dwell long on the humanitarian's love for his dumb animal. However, my attempts to do justice to Mr. Galsworthy's works are far too insignificant: therefore. I leave you to discover for yourself its charms. It is not strange then that when .Iohn QYCAROON AND WHITE Galsworthy left this world a few months ago, England's king, Prime Minister Mac- Donald. and other notables from all parts of the world joined Mrs. Galsworthy in her grief. which they expressed by lengthy messages and by other means. Mr. Gals- worthy, however, was laid to rest with the same austerity which characterized his noble life. There were no flowers save a fitting laurel wreath. Though this gallant gentleman has left us, his gems of poetry will live on and continue to thrill and inspire hearts. And when Death calls across his shadowy fields- Dying, it CCouragej answers: I-Iere! I am not dead! GENEVIEVE PERRI, Class of 1933. QZWCX9 EVENING IN APRIL The long, cold fingers of the winter air, Which caught and clung to every twig and tree, And held enchained each little brooklet fair, Have slipped away and left all nature free. The brooklet now enriched by gentle rain Gurgles to the world aloud in glee, And gossips to the world in glad refrain. As it gambols to the open sea. From the dark deep of the placid cool Where the soft reeds gently bend and sway, Rise myriad sweet voices of the pool To greet the color of the dying day. And where the purple shadows softly creep Beneath the bud of crocus and of rose, Gems of crystal clearness from the deep Lightly on the velvet dark repose. Then over the peaceful world is gently thrown A richer canopy than any ancient earl's, And the moonlight Hlls the Helds just grown With a flood of lustrous, liquid pearls. Alice M errotu. Class of 1934. Page One Hundred and Thirty-seven

Page 143 text:

fright when I heard them heading for the same room. There was no escape for me. I glanced hurriedly around the room. looking for a hiding place. It seemed al- most impossible to find one in the par- lor. What was I to do-where was l to hide-and most important of all, how was I to save father? I was growing des- perate. The 'redcoats' would soon come into the room. I scanned the room again. At last my eyes struck the huge grand- father clock in the corner and lingered there. I remembered that there was a large space in it where the pendulum swung. It was my only chance, so I rushed to the door of the clock, flung it open, and swiftly cached myself in it. closing the door just as the first 'redcoat' entered. I feared greatly that he had seen the door close, but my fears were unreal- ized, because he was looking in the op- posite direction as he came in. I-Iow care- less of him-how fortunate for mel They all ranged themselves about the clock as far as I could make out by the sounds. I was afraid that they suspected my whereabouts and intended to torment me by keeping me imprisoned until I couldn't stand it any longer and had to come out, but I found that I was wrong. after they had begun speaking. 'Are you sure this is the house?' asked the captain. 'Yes, sir. if what Charles Ricker said is true.' 'Ricker said she might have gone to live with some relatives in Charleston.' 'A 'I-low did Ricker happen to tell you all this, and why does he think that Car- roll is stopping at his home before going to lVlorgan?' 'Ricker has a grudge against Carroll for some reason or other. I think Car- roll showed him up in front of Wash- ington once, and he wants revenge. He said that it was possible that Carroll would stop at his home firstf After hearing this, I was what you would call burning up. If I could only lay my hands on that scoundrel! What I wouldn't do to him! I had forgotten that I was a mere seven-year-old and that I would come off second best and very NINETEEN THIRTY-THREE MAROON AND WHITE much worsted if I ever contested with such a treacherous traitor. 'I don't like possibilities. I like facts. We'll wait here for two hours and if Carroll doesnt show up by then, we'1l leave and call it a bad job.' '1'd hate to have this fellow, Ricker, lighting on my side. I'd never know when he was going to give me away.' You can imagine my feelings as I heard those last few remarks. Why it was at least fifteen minutes since my mother had left, and there remained just about an hour and forty-five minutes be- fore she would return with my father. Now I had heard that the British were going to wait for two hours. Why in the world did I ever go into the parlor and worst of all, lock myself up in the clock? What could I do, cramped up, with little air to breathe? I should have run out without my coat as soon as I had seen the British coming. Surely I had been out in colder weather than it was then. My father would walk into a trap all be- cause I had been so foolish. I mustn't give up hope. There must be some way to save him, for the British. who I was sure were looking at the clock, would leave as soon as their two hours were up. If there was only some way by which I could move the hands of the clock for- ward. But. no, I was unable to move them, being inside the clock, and even if I could, the movement would seem un- natural, and the British would guess where I was. The only thing to do was to speed up the clock, but how? How could I, im- prisoned in ment? All the pendulum was swinging back and forth in front of me almost touching my nose. There it swung, implacable, silent, never speeding up, never slowing down. but al- ways keeping its slow, even pace. If I could only impart to it the knowledge that its master was in danger, it might find a remedy, but perhaps it did know and could do nothing about it. All at once an idea struck me. It came like a lightning bolt. most assuredly from heaven. Whereas I had been sad the clock. hasten its move- while I was in there, the Page One Hundred and Thirty-mne