Albany High School - Thronateeska Yearbook (Albany, GA)

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The Thnmateeska At a ball given to celebrate the author’s success, Elizabeth saw a man who seemed familiar, yet with whom she knew she was not acquainted. He was perhaps the best looking man she had ever met. Fully six feet tall, neither stout nor thin, outdoor skin, graceful carriage, coal black hair, and eyes that were alternately gray, blue, black, magnetic personality— all added to his attractions. Look how he was being lionized! She beckoned to a boy who had been her friend since childhood, and stated her desire to meet the handsome stranger. “I’d advise you to steer clear of him,” said ‘Lilly’, “he has broken as many hearts as he is years old-—more than you have Beth.” “That doesn’t say that he will break mine,” Elizabeth said, “and besides 1 haven’t broken any hearts. “You’re breaking mine now,” said Billy to himself, as he went to do her bidding. When they were introduced, Elizabeth did not connect this Mr. Fisher with Mr. Fisherman until he spoke. Then it was all that she could do to keep her self-control, while Mr. Fisherman murmered that he thought they had met before, and in an undertone, he thanked her for the book which she had sent him, and which he had enjoyed more than she could imagine. lie led her out on the veranda. “I’ve come back to meet my just punishment, and I hope it will be a pardon,” he said, his mouth twitching at the corners. “I’m sure you haven’t done anything deserving punishment, and are just trying to torment me,” replied Elizabeth. She had-seen the halfsmile. Just then Chispa came running in, and she showed him more attention than she had in a month. “The crime I committed was a grave one,” went on Mr. Fisher-man, “I deceived a lady. But I want to tell you something else first. I was a wild aYid reckless chap until I fell in love. I thought the lady of my affections was the most beautiful in the world. I found out all I could about her, and found her real beauty was deeper and lovlier, that it was in her soul as well as her face, Then I wondered what she might think of me, and I set about to make myself worthy of her. I plunged into my father’s business. He died, so the management fell on my shoulders. I worked harder and harder. Then one day something snapped.” “The doctor told me that the longer rest I took, and the farther away from business and society 1 was, the better it would be for me, so 1 had the little cabin built in the North Woods, and secluded myself there. The only company I had was my mascot, the picture”—he reached for her hand but it was busy rumpling Chispa’s hair—“the picture of the girl I love.” She felt his eyes upon her, but would not look up. His voice had grown vibrant. Page Thirty one

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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

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The Thronateeska “One day I found that girl in my house angry because I had her picture. That was when I committed the crime of deceiving a lady. I dared not tell her why 1 had that picture—that 1 was unaccountably in love with her, that—” “That’s enough, Mr. Fisher-man. lie assured, heart-smasher, that you didn’t deceive me.” “You mean that you knew all the time that 1 cared?” “No. I mean that I am quite able to keep my heart my own and unbroken.” “Don’t be too sure about that. Why do you suppose 1 had your picture ?” “Because it v ould have ruined Chispa’s to cut me out.” “Are you going to let your cleverness break my heart?” “If I’m clever, its only to keep you from breaking mine.” ‘ Look here young lady, and listen to me. I always get what I want.” “I haven’t failed to do that same thing yet,” Elizabeth replied. “1 am glad, because you know as well as I do that you want the man of your book. He will keep your little heart far more tenderly than he has kept your picture.” “Indeed. I haven’t said I wanted you.” “You haven’t said that you don’t.” “Well, I don’t want—” “How can you be so cruel ?” “Why didn’t you let me finish? As I was saying, I don’t want to lose you, Mr. Fisher-man.” Several months later there was an announcement in the society columns of a well known paper to the effect that Mr. and Mrs. Robert Fisher were spending their honey-moon in the North Woods. —Clyde Passmore. Flunk, Flunk Flunk! Flunk, Flunk, Flunk! On thy shoals, O geometry sea! And I would that my tired brain could prove, The propositions put to me. O, well for the logical lad, Who can reason them out like play! But woe, for the stupid lass Who must plod both night and day! And the sorrowing girls move on, To their fate in the Senior Class; And oh! for the touch of a magic hand. Or a voice that bids us pass! Flunk, Flunk, Flunk! On thy shoals, O Geometry sea! For the final exam with its chance to dunk Will surelv come back to me. —A. B. Page Thirty-two