Alameda High School - Acorn Yearbook (Alameda, CA)

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lesson time. It was an unheard of event and the Little Boy went fearfully, won- dering what he had done. There was another man with his father in the great room, a man with cold eyes that frightened the Little Boy. The man, it seemed, was the head of a school, a thing to be feared, as his nurse had told him, and he had come to see if the Little Boy could go to his school. So much his father told him, then the Little Boy gathered courage enough to speak out. Would I never come home? he asked. Certainly, replied his father, you will come home during the two weeks at Christmas time. In the summer you will go to a camp in the mountains run by the school, where I hope you will learn to be a man and stop this violin foolishness. The Little Boy did not answer. If he only came home at Christmas time he might forget the way to the tapestry forest. And how could be ever live for a whole year without going to the rose garden? With a little frightened cry he turned to his father again. Q Oh, no, he begged, don't send me away, please! I'll be as good as gold. Truly I will, only don't send me away ! Nonsense, said his father, it is an excellent school. You'll learn some com- mon sense there. Go back to the nursery and tell your nurse to come here. The Little Boy found his nurse just outside the door and told her to go in. Then, he turned and fled down the hall until he reached the closed study, and flung himself, sobbing, on the couch. Oh, mother, he wept, don't let them take me away! The roses had never shone so pink before, he thought, the Little Girl never half so nice. She had even come part way down the path to look for him. All at once, as they wandered along, the Little Boy thought of something. Oh, tell me, he cried, how did you come to live here? She looked at him with puzzled eyes. Why, she said, I fell asleep one night, and I think I forgot to wake up. That was, oh, a long time ago! Do you think you could show me how? he begged. I want to come and live here, too. I'm so lonely and now they're going to send me away and I can't ever come any more! All at once he heard a voice singing, singing, about a boat on the sea of dreams, and he knew that it must be the Pretty Lady. Hurry,' cried the Little Girl, ask the Pretty Ladyli' He ran desperately, his breath coming in gasps. The path to the turn had never seemed so long before, but at last he reached it. A swarm of blue butterflies hovered over a garden, tall hollyhocks nodded over the paths, verbena sprawled over the borders. The Pretty Lady turned and smiled at him. Little son, she said and held out her arms to him. Then he knew she was his mother, and all his lonely heart throbbed with joy. Oh, motherf' he cried, how beautiful you are i And he ran into the safety of her arms. bk 2? 231 221 X 221 X The long, grey hall echoed the angry tread of his father, driving the goblin shadows back to the farthest corners. All the mystery of the room shrank back before the quick opening of the door, but the Little Boy lay fast asleep-too soundly asleep to waken as the grey goblins came creeping in through the open door to mock the man who knelt beside the couch and sobbed. By Janet Brown, '18. Page Eighleen THE ACORN

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before him. Despite its slowness, the butterfly flew high, and finally vanished among the tree tops. Forgetful of everything but the woods and the butterfly, the Little Boy ran on down the soft wood path, until, all at once, he found himself in a rose garden, pink with flowers, golden with sunshine, all a-flutter with gay butter- flies, and best of all, a little girl with yellow hair and a dress as pink as the roses, was filling her sunbonnet with the fallen rose petals. She looked up at him with- out surprise and smiledr. b HelIo! she said. ' ' Smitten with sudden shyness, the Little Boy could only stand and stare at her dumbly. She returned his crutiny with grave, brown eyes, until she was recalled to her work by a soft petal falling on her upturned face. Encouraged by her silence, the Little Boy came forward a few steps. Can I do that, too? he asked. If you've got something to put them in, she nodded. . The Little Boy found his handkerchief and worked in silence for a few min- utes. Then curiosity overcame his bashfulness. A What do you do with them when you have' them all picked up? Take them to the Pretty Lady, replied the little girl. She puts them into big jars, and when she has enough, she kisses them, and they fly away. Where to? Out to the world, she says, answered the Little Girl, and she told us once that they all made some great singer's voice. Oh, won't she send some to me? cried the Little Boy. Then I won't miss my violin so much I ' Put your leaves in here and we'll go and ask her, said the the Little Girl. Eagerly the Little Boy took the pink bonnet string she held out to him, but his toe caught in the moss, and he fell, flinging the petals in a scattered shower on the ground. Wake up, do wake upl What will your father say? The Little Boy sat up unwillingly and looked at the housekeeper, with dazed evcs. I spilled all the rose leaves, he said. But the housekeeper was half leading, half' dragging him down' the hall and did not hear. You naughty boy, she scolded, how could you go to sleep there, and scare us all so! It's lucky for you that your father didn't catch you there. Hurry and dress for dinner I But despite her warning, the next evening found the Little Boy slipping down the long hall to the study. Scarcely had his eyes closed when he found himself running down the wood path. The Little Girl was waiting for him there, and they played hide and seek among the big pink roses, which were the golden notes of great singers, and chased the .,butterflies, that were the fluttering hearts of pretty ladies, and waded in the little brook, that was the laughter of children. Once he had learned the way, he went often, forgetting lost violin, and angry father in the joy of' playing there. But always hevwoke too soon! Always came back from the tapestry forest before he was ready. For the desire of his heart was to find the Pretty Lady and ask her to send hin1 the rose leaves. But he never could get beyond the last bend in the trail that led to her! He always awoke to find the dark creeping into the study and the big machine that brought his father purring under the window. And then, one day, his father sent fo1' him to come to the great library during 'PHE ACORN Page swenteen

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