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Page 76 text:
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PELAGUS O Neptune, cincte tellure et caelo obtecte, undae animum excitant, praetextus ingenium reddit, altitude- verecundiam ostentat. A MAN He rises with dawn, and sleeps with the dusk In a land that belongs To none. His home is sound, his family strong With the will that carries them Through life. A hard life. A short life. A life that is lived for the present, And forgotten hereafter. His faith in God binds him firmly With the land which he loves And despises. From it he fills his stomach and To it he gives his strength. His sweat brings The chance Of reward, and sometimes Of failure. He is a simple man. He longs not for death, and yet it is there, And he is not grieved. He finds love with his own, And peace with the beauty Of nature. When he is gone, His seed will continue to grow in the land, For he planted it well, And taught his young To struggle, To accept, To live As he did. S. Roloff 12E Solem aspiciens fis caeruleus, color libertatis; ventos adloquens semper irasceris; luna noctu veste argentea te velat. Nee infixus ut solum nee liber ut aether: transitus es terrae auraeque. Ascribere unum modo nomen alium tibi possum: Pelagus. Jim C. Hou Grade 13 IMPRESSION Q Everyone has gone, brought with him his voice, laughter, and my misery. The halls are empty, the air freezes. Walking through the woods with no sound of footsteps or whisperings, with no shadow hanging in front or behind, there is no sound but the dialogue between the North Wind and the branches; nor is there the odor of human existence: only the fragrance of fresh pines. Although no hymn is sung, the recollection of chantings is heard in the mind. Quietness is you alone with yourself, and then perhaps, with nature too. Jim C. Hou Grade 13 PENSEE II n ' y a pas d ' art plus difficile que I ' art de vivre. Pour les autres arts et sciences, on peut trouver nombreux professeurs pour nous enseigner les verites fondamentales. Encore, personne ne peut me montrer comment vivre, sauf moi-meme. D ' un bout a I ' autre de la vie, il me faut continuer a apprendre a vivre; d ' une telle maniere que j ' ap- prendrai enfin a mourir. Jim G. Hou Grade 13
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Page 77 text:
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A Lighthouse Mystery The tiny figure was barely visible for the cascading waves which swirled around him in the water. Again and again he would sink down under the surface, but again and again he would rise back up. His pale face was all that was visible in the darkness of the night, and even that was sometimes obscured by his limp black hair. He was Will Rodgers, the night watchman of the luxury liner Overdraft which had just sunk hours before, after being struck by a tidal wave while cruising in the Mediterranean. He had been swimming for two or three hours in the direction of an unidentified light in the distance which he had sighted from the watch tower just before the ship went down. As far as he could tell, he was the only survivor on the ship, thanks to his isolated perch in the tower. He assumed that the others were either trapped inside the vessel or had been sucked down by the turbulence of the sinking ship, the latter of which fates he had narrowly escaped. As he got closer to the light, he could see that it seemed to blink on and off as a lighthouse does, but he could remember no land or markers on the chart for miles around. His body was now numb and fatigued. It was all he could do to cling to odd pieces of wreckage to keep himself buoyant. There were still several more hours un- til dawn when the rescue ships might arrive, if they too had not been demolished by the wave. He did not know if he could hold on much longer. He estimated the light to be less than a mile away, but that might as well have been infinity because he knew that he had neither the strength nor the will to swim on. Even- tually he closed his eyes, and lay motionless, with his arms and legs drooped over a piece of debris. His heart still beating but his mind was a blank. When he awoke, he found him- self on the beach of some deso- late island. Thousands of gulls were the only inhabitants of the island. There were the remains of old human dwellings scattered a- round a huge majestic light- house made of stone and tim- bers. Inside the lighthouse, the beams and original stairs had all long since rotted away. There was, however, a fairly new and sturdy ladder which stretched to the top of the tower where the old oil lamps had once hung to warn ships of the dangerous waters. Will decided to ascend the tower to investigate the view. On his arrival at the summit, he discovered to his astonishment that there were not old oil lamps in the tower, but a modern elec- tric generator with storage bat- teries and a light beam on a swivel. The apparatus was moun- ted on steel beams and cemen- ted to the sides of the tower. Ob- viously someone had been using the lighthouse as a beacon for signalling ships. Perhaps Will had stumbled upon a secret smuggling operation. The light had, however, directed him the night before to the only piece of land for miles around, and that he was thankful for. After having eaten a meal of boiled gulls ' eggs, he began to make a closer investigation of the island. He estimated the island to be only about an eighth of a mile in circumference. In a secluded part of the island he found an old over-turned clinker- built boat in which he hoped to soon escape to civilization. The following night he set off in the boat for the coast of Italy, af- ter having erected a makeshift sail out of some old cloth he found, and having taken on board a supply of gulls ' eggs. Several days later, tired, sun- burnt, and half-starved, he was rescued by a coast guard ship which was patrolling the area for survivors of the catastrophe. When he told them of his discovery on the island they only laughed at him and claimed that he had lost his marbles, for they knew that here was not an island nor a beacon for miles around the area he described to them. Will argued that he might have stumbled upon the heart of a huge smuggling operation, but they would not listen. On retur- ning to the location of the lighthouse several days later, the island was nowhere to be found. It was as if it had all been part of a dream. Years later as Will Rodgers sat eating his breakfast and reading the London Times, he noticed a head which read: Another castaway claims to have discovered an un- charted island with an abandoned lighthouse in the waters near ... J. Gudewill 11 A1
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