Ashtabula High School - Dart Yearbook (Ashtabula, OH)

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T H E D A R T 15 fCrttrra ij SECOND PRIZE STORY BY LOLA M. REMICK m O you believe lhat the reason the Germans are making such a strong drive against you at Verdun, is because their nerves have been so dulled by ether that they know no fear? I asked this question as a feeler, for I was working for a big human interest story for the Sunday supplement of my paper, The New York I imes. For months the papers had been filled with descriptions of military tactics, machine guns, and life in the trenches, all of which emphasized the statement that War is Hell. (The matter of fact English soldiers with whom I was talking, that of their part in the war in the same unromantic way that they had regarded their duties in the London offices, which they had left at their country’s call.] I had questioned in vain, in regard to deeds of heroism, thrills and sob stuff. These phlegmatic Englishmen had no desire for celebrity. As a last resort, 1 asked if there never was any romance connected with war. At this a slow smile spread over the faces of the soldiers, and then they burst into a hearty laugh. I noticed a young fellow who was called E. Rawdon, by his fellow soldiers. (I knew his name was Dick and had wondered at the E), who seemed to appreciate the apparent joke more than the others, and also seemed to be exceedingly embarrassed. Well, the joke is on me, and I guess it is up to me to tell it, he began. You can take it or leave it, but I think you will realize my feelings in the affair. “You see, one day, as some of us were conversing, mostly about the last attack, some fragments of cloth, paper and shavings came floating down by us. I his was nothing very unusual, for the packings of bombs often are blown long distances after the explosion. As I talked, I picked up a bit of newspaper, and casually read the words: Societv wel- comes the opening of a new country place at Bar Harbor this week by Frances Manning, well known in society circles. I remarked how exceedingly interesting was this bit of news, and passed the paper around. I hat was the beginning of the end, for someone, I can’t tell who, (lucky for them) suggested that Dick Rawdon write to the young society belle and thereby create a love romance. It didn’t take much urging, for with my love of excitement, I thot it would be an interesting adventure and it was interesting all right! 1 he first letter I wrote read something like this: My Dear Miss Manning: I am a poor but distinguished Englishman, serving my country in the war. I learned from a newspaper article that I happened to pick up that you have opened a new country home at Bar Harbor. Now, I know you will take pity on a poor lonesome soldier, and make me happy by writing to me. Address, Dick Rawdon, Regiment 3, before Verdun. Well, as soon as an answer could be expected, one came. It was a very nice little note, short but sweet, saying that she was interested in soldiers and would like very much to hear from me again. And you can bet that it wasn’t long before she did. I he brief formal notes gradually led to a steady correspondence. Her letters were lovely, and enough to make anyone fall in love with her. And that is just what I did. or thot I did. Each time her letters were more intimate, and in reply to an unusually friendly one, I wrote something like this: Dearest Frances: You have made me so happy. Your letters

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THE “DART” STAFFS. (For Names see Page 22)

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THE CAST OF THE SENIOR PLAY, 1916