Albany High School - Prisms Yearbook (Albany, NY)

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THE GARNET AND GRAY 7 which age had not perceptibly diminished, while he carved, softly murmuring his prayers. As the light streaming through the square aperture near the ceiling grew dim the old monk increased his speed, but his eyes were helpless in the disappearing twilight and with a sigh he decided that the completion of the statue must be left for the morrow. As he contemplated the figure held in his outstretched palm his head began to nod and in the midst of his study drooped forward on his chest and he aroused himself with a start when he realized that sleep had nearly overtaken him before the completion of his daily tasks. Since the death of Brother Francis, it had been his duty to light the tapers in the chapel as he passed on his way to the evening meal served in the great hall of the monastery, for this was one of the lighter tasks assigned to the oldest mem- bers of the order. With a last regretful glance he placed the miniature of the Virgin on a low, broad shelf, and picking up the bundle of tapers he was about to leave the room, when he noticed that he had not put away his tools. Bend- ing over to pick up one of them he felt a sharp twinge of pain and sat down on his bench, thinking that it would pass away before he must begin his task. With his head in his hands he thought of the physical trials of an in- creasing age and the handicap of years. The tolling of a bell in the distance warned him of work yet to be per- formed, but a sense of comfort and a feeling of drowsiness had fallen over him. He assured himself that there was time enough and then uncon- sciously relaxed, and fell asleep. Faintly pealing chimes and a bird caroling sweetly, as a shining ray of light crept over the monk's kindly old face, brought back consciousness and in the vision of the aged priest appeared the saddest sight' oni eartih. In the far distance a group of monks with sorrowful mien were assembled in a chapel gathered about the bier of one of their brethren. As they intoned the funeral service a veil was drawn shutting out all earthly vision, and there burst upon Father Dominic all the joy of heaven. MARY HARRIS, '23 WHEN KNIGHTS WERE BOLD I The warm morning sun had hardly dispelled the grey mists of the low-lands, when the stolid peasants in the hamlet below the grey walls of Nordwick Castle heard the peremptory blast of a bugle-horn, followed by the clatter of chains as the great draw-bridge was lowered. These sounds were usually followed by the appearance either of a grim, war-like band of knights, clad in glinting armor, bound for some foray, or a merry hunt- ing party, with gay-colored, waving plumes and pennants, galloping by with a jingle of spurs and a clatter of quivers. But today, a strange sight greeted them. Slowly without a sound of horn or voice a funeral procession wound T

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6 THE GARNET AND GRAY R 'M'NAT'oN -M misvmrrim-il I F uf. Z -sf QA gs, , ,jig ,a 'C I y IX!! AJ f Q-73 is ex , Z Q77 I Wg I T' if , f ' ' 'PREPARATION I W I 1? fr Y 1 ,S I 0vRMAuuscR1'P'r l ,XXL CONSUHHATION ZLT ' I A WX .. .,...we+W 11fr:N gd if-v H 1 H 5cRaBB1.L-Afaom X LITERARY SECTION ' THE SONG OF THE KITE I soarg I ride upon the windy and when it falls I sway and dip grace- fully. I tug almost angrily upon my string, for that winged fowl is going even farther than I. If the boy who stands there far below, on the green hillside, sur- rounded by his playmatesg if the boy who holds my string, who stands be- tween me and my freedom, would only loose his hold, I would follow that scudding cloud across the turquoise vault to the portals of heaven, and I might kiss the sky. But he will do nothing of the sort. I tell you, I am not small in the eyes of man. XYas it not a kin of mine that helped to draw from the sky that elusive white fire, electricity, the friend of man? VVhy, even now the children watch my graceful spirals with wide, appreciative eyes. They like to see my expression change, perhaps. You see, I am a two- faced kite. One of the faces is a laugh, the other a frown, and as I twirl about in the air, they can see me looking down at them. But hark! The clanging of the dinner-bell comes across the fields to us. The boy is goingg and I must go too-and wait behind the cellar door. LUCY HAGER, '26 THE MONK'S REWARD In his little cell Father Dominic was busily at work putting the finish- ing touch on a small ivory statuette of the Virgin. His hands, gnarled and drawn with blue veins running in criss-cross ridges, moved with a skill

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8 THE GARNET AND GRAY down the rocky road. All were on foot except the grizzled Lord Laufrane, who rode at the head, stern and unmoved even in his grief. Six men bore the carved oaken coffin, emblazoned with the arms of Laufrane, within which lay the fair-haired daughter of the Lord. The white drapery of the bier testified to the maiden's virginity, for she had died even as she was to become a bride. True, it was rumored her love had not been for the Nor- man knight her father had chosen, but for a young rnan Theobold, the Saxon, yet none dared whisper that she might have died of a broken heart. Now, murmured the peasants, she would be the bride of no earthly mortal, but would lie cold and alone, in the holy ground about the monastery, on the farther side of Eldric Wood. A few there were who felt for Theobold and wondered how he would bear his grief, but great would have been their amazement could they have seen him at that moment. Deep in the forest and hidden from the road by a thicket clump sat Theobold mounted on a fleet stallion, surrounded by a score of his henchmen. There seemed to be no concern in the attitude of the Saxon as he chatted with his companions. Suddenly the funeral procession rounded a bend in the road, and as it drew abreast the hidden knights, Theobold uttered a loud cry and spurred into the middle of the road, followed by his men who surrounded the pro- cession. The startled mourners offered no resistance as they were no match for the mounted men, and the bearers lowered the coffin awaiting the demands of their captors. Young Theobold sprang to the ground and tearing aside the pall, pried oii' the coffin lid with his battle axe. As the on- lookers gasped at this sacrilege, he leaned over the coffin and lifted Lord Laufrane's daughter to her feet. Holding her with one hand he lifted her eyelids with the other. A clear gaze, with perhaps the slightest trace of a smile met him from the blue eyes. Then with a wave of the hand at the raging Lord Laufrane, and at scornful glance at his former rival, young Theobold swung his sweetheart to the saddle and with his henchmen close at his back disappeared among the trees. MAX S. KAUFMAN, '23 - FAMOUS AMERICAN ANIMALS The horse are a very peculiar animal. He have four legs, one in each corner. He have a head that much resemble that of a gavel. He wear his hairs on one side of his neck. There are not much more to say about a horse these days because he are making himselves so scarce. The American gold fish terrier are a very extinguished looking dog. He wears wiskers. These dog are very extravagant, or expensive in other words. He are like to some of our antique politician, first, he always need a hair cut, two, he have a very even disposition-he are always mad. He are a good watch dogg i.e., he watch the tramp come in and take what he want, and then these dog watch him go out. The Australian Whimpus are becoming more common in these country