Albany High School - Thronateeska Yearbook (Albany, GA)

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The Throiuitceska those first years in a strange land, but now it was different. She had her Sam and he was going to do big things. The thought quickened her steps. Perhaps he was there now. Anxiously she tried the door. Ah! he had not come. Without pausing, she began the preparation of the evening meal. lie might be in at any minute now and then she would know. Hut she was sure of her Sam; he would astonish those doctors. Surely she heard him. Me was taking the steps two at a bound but his mother met him at the door, her wrinkled old face fairly radiant. Yes, my Sam, you have won! You will enter the medical college. Is it not true, what my heart tells me?” “Oh, mother, you know everything! The scholarship is mine, I shall enter. And Oh, how 1 shall work! I shall show them what I can do.” “Yes, you will show them. You will cure many poor people, like your father; he never had a chance. “You are right, mother. Some other boy’s father shall have a chance. But to think this opportunity should come to me! It never could have happened in Russia.” “No Sam, it never could have happened in Russia. Your father was right in bringing us to this wonderful America. You will enter the college and I shall wait for you here.” Years passed. Again Meta Levin pushed her cart through the crowded streets. But tonight she did not stumble, she carried her head proudly erect. Close to her heart she hugged a letter that had come that day from her Sam. He had won out at last! Could it be true? Her Sam was a great man. And tomorrow he was coming for her. Her old careworn heart swelled with pride and gratitude. No more would she sell her laces in the street. Silently she offered a prayer to the good God who had put it into the hearts of these men to help her boy. This was His country, and it was now hers, this land where every boy has his opportunity. —L. G. C. Page Twenty-eight

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The Thnmateeska Senior Aspirations Annie Blate aspires always to have some fun, Vera McLarty in the class to rank A-l. Lucile desires much attention to attract, Marcia Slappey to be a seamstress on the “Fac.” Blanchard Cook longs like an opera queen to sing:, And Nellie Moody to be the first to wear a wedding: ring. Hattie Hardy resolves to keep them always guessing. And Susie Tolbert never to a fault confessing. Nellie Walden wonders how all the teachers she can please, And “Dot” White delights poor Preston to tease. Bessie Cleveland aspires to keep every single rule, Clyde Passmore to be the oracle of the school. Hazel’s ambitious to shoot goal in basket ball And Mary Louise Brown to be the cutest one of all. Lora tries always to be everybody’s friend And “yours truly” Josie to get a diploma in the end. Opportunity The hot summer day was drawing to a close. The street lamps one by one were lighted: the squalid little shops began to prepare for their evening trade; a hurdy-gurdy’s weary wheezing mingled with the jabber of the crowd, which rose, in a dozen tongues between the close windings of the narrow street. The heat rose in sickening waves from the filthy pavement. And through the maze of carts at the curb Meta Levin pushed her tray of cheap laces and trinkets. It had been a hard day and she felt tired and worn. She had sold little and the cobble stones were as hot coals to her poorly shod old feet. But she had stood there all day silently offering her wares to the passers-by, and none of them had noticed or cared how ill she looked or how desperately she needed the money. But she did not- mind, she told herself, for she must be brave for her Sam’s sake. Onward she stumbled, pushing her cart before her. She was late tonight and must hurry. Sam would be at home before her. She always liked to be there when he came, for her Sam was a fine boy. Some day he would be a great man. She must hurry! Through one closely-packed, evil smelling street after another she pushed her way. At last she entered the doorway of her owm dingy court, deposited the cart in the basement and began the exhausting climb to her little rooms. For eight years now she had climbed these stairs after her day in the streets. Here she had found refuge for herself and her little boy when' her husband had been held at the Island. They had said that he Was an undesirable alien, a consumptive, and had sent him back to Russia. She had hoped he w ould soon be well enough to join her and their son, but she never heard of him again. She recalled with a shudder the dull pain of Page Twenty-seven

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Since the time she had cried for her father’s priceless watch and got it, Elizabeth had always gotten what she wanted. Her mother died when she was a baby, and she, like Topsy, had just “glowed up.” So it was only natural that she was willful, as nearly every pretty girl is who has never met with opposition, but she was exceedingly sweet of disposition—as long as things went well. Now. She and her father were spending their vacation near a little town in the North Woods. Elizabeth needed the rest as much as her over-worked father. Two years before, she had written a little story which a magazine had deigned to publish. Then rashly, contracting to do a series of twelve before July, she had subsequently found that it’s mere fun to write when you feel like it. but hard work when you are under contract to do so. She waited and dreamed longer and longer until June had arrived. Then realizing that she must begin, she worked feverishly every day, and many nights, until she finished the final sketch. Here her vitality failed her, hence her retreat to this uncivilized part of the world. But with the proper sustenance and atmosphere, it doesn’t take youth long to recover from anything. So three weeks later, we find Elizabeth on a beautiful day wandering through a thicket, unguided and unguarded except for her collie, Chispa. She came upon a stream, rippling over and around the numerous rocks, piercing its surface, and a roar down stream gave her the idea that it must terminate in a waterfall. There was a little path by the brook's side, and she followed it listlessly. When she reached the fall, she stopped and wondered. It fell for fifty feet into a great round pool. From a superior height, she could see deep into the basin. Her attention was caught by the myriads of fish swimming and gamboling in its depths. Filled with delight, she wished to see how it looked from below, and descended by a rugged path strewn with rocks and briars. The tortuous route was well worth the trouble. Around the pool, there were many varieties of ferns, a few palms and wild violets. From its far side the fall seemed to be a thin rope of spray. Then she saw what she had not noticed before. It was a cottage, or to term it more correct'y. a hut. Just then, as often happens in the summer time, a storm came up without warning. Elizabeth rushed towards the hut with Chispa close behind her. At the back was a rude lean-to. Quickly she ran under this. Soon the rain began to blow into their scant shelter, so she knocked at the door, but received no answer. Without further ado, she shoved the door open, and entered. It was a clear case of ‘nobody home’, so she settled herself on a couch until the rain should cease. Chispa curled up beside her, whining at every peal of the thunder. He was not frightened, for he possessed a valiant heart, but the strong vibrations of the air currents, caused by the thunder claps, were torture 'entv-nme