Arlington High School - Indian Yearbook (Arlington, MA)

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THE ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION 9 I don't know, he s;iid, weakly. ••I'll — I'll call again.” That evening as he leaned across the supper table, he inquired of Ma with a twinkle in his eye, if she wouldn’t like to choose her own present this year ? .Million ■’. Anderson, ’15. A CHRISTMAS CAROL. Joyously the hells are pealing Carols wild and free; O'er the earth, sweet peace is stealing Softly, silently. In the sky a star is gleaming. Wonderfully bright, And below the earth lies dreaming 'Neath its twinkling light. Silently the gift is given, Christ is born tonight. Sing, oh angels, high in heaven, Of earth's eternal Light! Marion E. Busliee, ’14. CHRISTMAS IN THE FOREST. It was a clear, cold day in December, and a heavy blanket of snow covered the earth. The birds were chirping, busily hurrying to and fro to find food, which was a hard task because of the covering of snow. In the forest all was quiet. The trees stood tall and gaunt, devoid of leaves, and the evergreens sparkled brightly in the sunshine be- cause their green needles were threaded with snowy silver cord. The sun shone high above them and then began to turn to the west. Sud- denly a tall pine spoke, and the trees near him listened attentively, for they all respected the majestic giant. “Two years ago,” he said, “some people came into our home here and had what is called a winter picnic. They swept the warm snow from the arbutus and evergreen . and trampled down the sleeping plants. In fact they did everything to disturb our peaceful- ness.’’ Rut, asked a little froslpine near, they didn't take away anything, did they?” Yes, stormed the stately one, in re ply, they brought sharp, cruel axes, and cut down a small tree about your size. They talked of how pretty the spangles and gifts would look on it. Rut I know that tree would not hold much because it was only as large as you.” Oh,” gasped the little tree, and her branches shook with terror. I do not think they will come this year, because tomorrow is their Christ- mas Day, and they usually come a week before then.” Suddenly on their ears broke the sound of human voices, and the tramp- ling of underbrush. They are coining!” whispered the little pine, and I know they will take me! Oh, if only I were big like you !” Well, maybe they won’t” said the big tree, consolingly, there are many other trees here you know.” Rut they came tramping in, and the eyes of one of the men fell on the little frost pine. Here’s the one we want,” he cried to the others. They immediately set to work and cut down the poor little tree, while the big pine angrily looked down on them. They varied the tree off, and its branches seemed to be waving a pathetic farewell to its friends in the forest. The trees left behind whispered mourn- fully among themselves, and the wind moaned with a wailing sound through the branches of the great tree, who mourned the loss of his little neighbor. Rut Christmas morning dawned clear and bright, and the trees nodded a “Merry Christmas to each other. Although the men had robbed the woods of a tree, yet Nature, the mother of them all. would plant another, and where the snow was trampled she

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8 THE ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION The past year's gone forever (it’s joys and sorows o’er), And shining stars now tell us, eternity lies before. Drifting, moaning, laughing, our por- tion still has been, But may we live more nobly ’til Heaven will here begin. Then gaze with upward glances 1 o where a chorus swells, Of angel voices singing, “All must be well.” Adella IF. McMillan. '14. “MA’S” PRESENT. “Pa” Benson wrinkled his forehead in deep thought. Because of unex- pected profits this year, he was eager to make the approaching Christmas a red-letter day for his worthy spouse. Gift after gift present ed itself to his mind, only to be rejected on one ground or another. Suddenly a thought flashed over him so quickly, he jumped right up as if he were sitting on a hot potato, and just chuckled. There were no more doubts in bis mind now as to what “Ma’s” Christmas present should be. So eager was he to go to the city to select it, he could hardly wait for the next day to come. When it did come, and he found himself in all the bustle and confusion of a big city at Christ- mas time, he felt like a fish suddenly lifted from the water of his native brook, and cast into the roaring ocean. With a “do or die’’ expression on his face he followed the crowd, or speaking more properly, was carried along with it. info a store fairly glittering with lights and the brilliancy of Christmas decorations. II is mind was fully made up as to what lie wanted, but — he looked around, dazzled by so much splendor, — how was he to find it here? Why here was a sma'l town in itself! Finally, after wandering aimlessly about for some few minutes, he stepped up to a beautifully gowned woman who looked as if she might know everything — or nothing, perhaps ! — and said politely : “Could you tell me, ma’am, where I might find — dresses ?” She looked him over from head to foot, while all the time conscious of the shabbiness of his best suit of clothes, he felt himself growing smaller and smaller, fairly dwindling away. At last she condescended to murmur: “I have no idea.” Pa, turning away in utter despair, took out his great handkerchief, and wiped the drops of perspiration from his face. Oh, but Ibis was infinitely harder than a day’s work on the farm! But when he put his hand to the plough at home, he went on, regardless of obstacles. So did he here. Seeing a group of people crowding into a little box-like contrivance at one end of the store, be folowed. As the elevator sped upward on one of its in- numerable journeys during the day, he was rewarded by hearing the welcome words : “Fourth floor, suits, coats, dresses,” and he hastily stepped off. his hopes rising rapidly. Looking about, he descried a gown draped upon one of the forms, which he considered prettier than anything he had ever conceived of. As a haughty young woman sauntered toward him, he ventured to ask its price. One hundred and forty dollars,” was the answer, as indifferently as one might say, “one hundred and forty cents.” Gathering up the last remnants of his fast oozing courage, he heard him- self asking if there wasn’t something not so expensive. Not in this department. She di- rected him to another section of the store with a vague wave of the hand. “Pa,” after following as nearly as possible the direction pointed out, stated his desire to another very elab- orately dressed person, who calmly asked him what size. The question struck him as a thunderbolt from a clear sky.

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THE ARLINGTON HIGH SCHOOL CLARION io would toss down another snow storm to cover the plants. Through the air came the sound of chimes: “Peace on earth; good will to men.” And the big tree nodded his head in understanding. Ruth Gleason, ’16. THE HIDDEN CHRISTMAS TREE. “Mother! Mother!” Good wife Still man looked up from her pies in mild amazement at the sound of her name spoken in accents of wildest excite- ment, and saw her four rosy-cheeked youngsters crowding in at t he door, ! a u gh i ng u pro a riou sly. “What ails thee, then,” she asked re- provingly, “Dost not know that such shouting and mirth is most unseemly?” Then, seeing the little merry faces fall into dolorous lines, she added more gently, “Hast found a new kind of nut, or, perchance, a tame squirrel?” “Oh no, mother,” spoke up Prudence, the eldest of the four, “hut we've found that tomorrow is Christmas and we — ” hut the word was hardly out of her mouth when she stopped before the hor- rified look on her mother's face. “Child, child,” cried the good woman in horror, “what can ail thee? Satan himself must have put such an idea into thy head. Dost not know that talk of Christmas is hut wicked Papis- try. See that thou dost not let our good Elder hear thee say that word, and think no more about it thyself, my child.” “But, mother,” said little Thomas, plucking up heart of grace, “why is ii so wicked? Dost not remember how, hack in England, little Barbara and Timothy Southworth had a most won- drous beautiful tree at their house the night before Christmas, and how they danced around it and sang? How can such a merry-making he wicked, mother?” 'Tis a Papist custom, replied Mis- tress Stillman, weakly She herself had been brought up to love Christinas and all its good cheer, and it was only since she had left her merry England and sailed far away to this bleak Ply- mouth shore, that she had tried to be as severely sedate as her husband and the rest of the little Pilgrim band. “Oh mother! but it was so beauti- ful,” cried Prudence, and why cannot we have just a little tree tonight. 'Twouhl do no harm, and we know such a pretty straight little pine that Thomas could chop down, and we could make pop-corn strings, and there are plentv of candle-ends, and oh mother! do let us!” Mistress Stillman probably knew that she who hesitates is lost, yet she hesitated, hesitated another second, and was lost. “But what will your father say. and the good Elder?” she demanded, but the children heeded her not. It took much coaxing on the part of the children, and much pleading on the part of his wife to persuade Master Stillman that to celebrate Christmas in any way, shape or manner would not forever oust them from the society of pious people and class them with Romanists and Papists. But his heart was full of love for his children, and after all, was it not just a hit of in- nocent amusement that no one need ever know of. All that afternoon the little Still- mans were busy popping corn and stringing it on thread, and making long chains of bright red berries that they had found in the woods. Just before dusk, all four of them, arrayed in woollen mittens and mufflers, braved the snow which had begun to fall softly and steadily, and set out for their tree. Then did Mistress Stillman, a cheery smile on her motherly face, be- gin to bustle round her kitchen, and in a few moments the appetizing smell of boiling molasses tilled the little room. As she watched the mixture in the kettle, she popped more corn, and before the children came stealthily in, dragging their treasure behind them, a