Albany High School - Thronateeska Yearbook (Albany, GA)

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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

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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 Thronateeska to his sensitive ear-drums. Elizabeth comforted him as best she could. Soon the flashing of the lightning and the noise of the thunder abated, but the rain continued. Elizabeth began to take note of the contents of the room. There were besides the couch, a rough hewn table on which was an oil lamp, two cane bottom chairs, some shelves containing books by the best authors, and a huge fire-place. There was a grating in this last, which she decided was used for cooking purposes. 1 ler theory was corroboi-ated by a large kett'e suspended from a hook. Then something on the mantel caught her attention- It was a picture of herself and Chispa! She remembered that it had been taken to grace the pages of some magazine two years back. It was in a fiame that she knew to be expensive, and under it was a letter addressed to Robert Fisher. Elizabeth stamped her foot. To put it mildly, she was vexed. “Mister Fisherman! Who are you? IIow dare you frame my picture?” she exclaimed, and stamped her foot again. She heard an amused laugh, and there stood a rough looking young man in the doorway. “You see, it would have ruined the picture of the dog,” he said, “if I had cut you away.” Chispa’s eyes seemed even more friendly, w-hen he heard this, and he wagged his tail appreciatively. Rut Elizabeth’s eyes blazed, and her face crimsoned. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried, and fled hastily. The rain, like herself, had retreated at the appearance of Mr. Fisher-man, so there was no reason why she should have remained longer in the cabin. But not even to herself would Elizabeth admit that someone had beaten her at repartee. That night she began to wonder about him. His good looks and pleasant voice conflicted with his lowly abode and unkempt appearance. She decided to write a book with him as the hero who had committed some crime, (just what or why she didn’t formulate), and let him be living in seclusion until it should be forgotten. By making her inquiries carefully, she learned as much as the villagers knew' about him, without letting them know that they were being questioned. This information was that a stranger had come there several months ago, occupied the cabin which he had ordered to be built as simply as possible, and had avoided all contact with them. Elizabeth then began her novel, the one that made her famous. She worked out the plot from the outline she had formed, and not long after her return home, she published it. Many of the descriptions corresponded with the vacation scenes, and her hero’s dwelling place tallied in every detail with Mr. Fisher-man’s hut. When the book was published, Elizabeth marked all the descriptions of the village scenes with a blue pencil, and placing a cutting from a favorable criticism between the pages illustrating the hut, WTapped the book and addressed it to Mr. Robert Fisher. The clipping read: “The story ends satisfactorily. The criminal secluded himself in a forest, where proximity to God and His dumb creatures caused him to repent. He returns to the city to receive his just punishment, and does, for he is pardoned. Page Thirty