Ashtabula High School - Dart Yearbook (Ashtabula, OH)

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The Dart A RONDEL AMOS S. PFAFF, EX. 1900 eAbove the hills the scattered hosts of day Flee from their monarch’s chariot afar; Shorn of their might, an impotent array. That know, nor lord, nor king, and yet who are Fair in weakness, robing dune and bar With opaline splendor in their dire dismay, Above the hills the scattered hosts of day Flee from theii monarch’s chariot afar. zAlong the quivering waters of the bay Marvels of myriad lightnings flash, and jar In eddying ripples though the gleaming spray, Like passing phantoms from an unknown star, Above the hills the scattered hosts of day Flee from their monarch’s chariot afar. What is love? A little “saying” A little trying A lot of crying And lots of lying. Young wed—“ I want accommodations for my wife.' Clerk—“ Suite? ” Youngwed—“You bet she is.”—Ex. Mr. Dieterich—“ Neil, what are you doing ’ Neil R. (cheerfully)—” Nothing.” Mr. D.—“ Well Harry, what are you doing? Harry P.—“ Oh, I’m just helping Neil.” Miss Seeger (to Margaret Beach who was endeavoring to pronounce Erinys)—“ If you had looked that up it would have given you fury.” A great accident at Lake Street subway this morning—A lady had her eye on a seat and a man sat on it. 7

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The Dart spoil there that might be his. No! his plan must not be changed. The girl should die. Slowly the fiends departed from the rocks, taking Dorothy’s boat with them. She was to be left to drown. Soon she would be missed at home, but help could not reach her before Deltzer Rocks were un- der water. She must save Seehausen, but how ? Something glittered on the ground. It was a knife, propably Zefo’s. Could she scratch on the rocks a few words of warning ? With trembling hands Dorothy set to work, but the rocks could not be cut; besides they would soon be under water. She hesitated for a moment in dispair. Then a smile lightened her pallid face. Zefo should be outwitted after all. Off came the white stiff kerchief from about her neck. With a quick movement she drove the knife into her bare arm. Dipping her finger into the flowing blood she made one letter on the kerchief. Again, and another letter was made. Again and again until at last on the pure white background were the words; “Zefo tonight. Through Luban Pass.” She fastened the banner to a stick of driftwood and wedged it firmly in a crevice of the slender, rocky pillar. Seehausen was saved, for the waves could not reach the white flag that meant death to one and life to so many. Slowly the water rose, the clouds grew darker, and the storm came on. Tightly elapsed in her right hand was the Testament. Dorothy thought of its blessed promises. As the storm broke, the waves rose more rapidly and soon all that could be seen of the dying girl was her white face. The next wave and she would perish. With a last triumphant look at the fluttering kerchief, she sank back and the waves covered her. As night drew near, frightened Kathlene told her story, and great was the consternation on shore. After much delay a boat was secured and as the water covered rocks were approached, the kerchief was seen waving in the breeze. Snatching the flag, the blood written inscription was read in the light of the flaring torches. There is nothing more to relate, except that Zefo and his men were surprised by the enraged peasants at Luban Pass, the chieftan and many of his followers were slain while the remainder fled. The next morning the body of her who had saved Seehausen was found by the sorrowing searchers. If you ever visit the German town, Seehausen, you will see a beauti- ful marble tomb and some one can always be found who will recite the story of her who sleeps within, Dorothy Knelman. 6

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Description of a Part of the Gulf ANNA BURNS COLLECTION of deep gulches which converge into one form what is commonly known as the Gulf. It was doubtless the result of some violent upheaval in na- ture, but each succeeding year has added something to its attractiveness, until now it is known even among travelers because of its freshness and beauty in summer and artistic surroundings in winter. The part of one of the gulches which I shall try to describe extends from the stone bridge at the foot of the hill, leading from the cemetery to the culvert. After descending from the road, one walks along on the leafy ground and stoops to pass under bare, low-hanging branches. The air is chilly and crisp, and the wind whistles through the limbs of the trees, but there is no snow and the water in the creek-bed rushes merrily on to its destination. One walks along on the bank until, rounding a curve he comes in full sight of a fall in the bed of the creek and stops invol- untarily to notice the beauty of the water as it sparkles over the ledge and forms islands of foam. There are several of these falls between the bridge and the culvert, and the trickling and gurgling of the water add much of that sense of loneliness and seclusion about the Gulf. Among the many pretty features of the scenery is a shapely ever- green tree whose branches extend horizontally over the stream, reach- ing nearly to the opposite side. Not far away from this evergreen a natural bridge is afforded by the dead trunk of a tree which some in- clemency of the weather has caused to break and fall over the stream The banks of the creek are thickly studded with beech trees with their long, scraggy limbs and with the ever-pleasing pines; while the ground is covered with leaves from among which a few ferns rear their heads as if wishing to cheer us with hope of a beautiful spring. In the bed of the stream are several large stones crested with a thin surface of ice, around which may be seen the minnows darting hither and thither. Although most of the birds have flown south, yet a few straggling snow birds and sparrows may be seen in some of the sheltered nooks, and they make a great commotion when frightened out of their homes by the sound of approaching footsteps. As the shadows deepen into darkness the beauty of the scene is greatly enhanced by a full moon which at first is only visible through the trees which line the bank, but soon rises higher and higher in the heavens, throwing light upon our path. January 10, 1899. 8