Astoria High School - Zephyrus Yearbook (Astoria, OR)

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THE APPLE BLOSSOM AND THE DANDELION By Mary Settem, 06. It was a bright and sunny May day; the wind was still cold, but “the spring Is come” was said softly from bush and brake, from field and stream, and a little apple tree which stood close by gave back the words in the gentlest of whispers. The little apple tree had one single bough just breaking into blossoms, and, so covered with its beautiful fresh buds, it Vr as a perfect picture to behold. It knew this quite well, so that it was not in the least surprised when a grand carriage which was passing along the road drew up before It and the young princess who sat in the carriage exclaimed, “Oh ! what a beautiful blossom, the loveliest apple- blossom of the season.” So one of her attendents broke off the bough: and, shading it with her silken para¬ sol, she carried it home with her to her father’s castle. The apple-blossom had never dreamed of such a place as that. On the table of a state drawing room was the blossom placed, and I am sorry to say it began to be very much lifted Up with its change of condition. Many people kept passing to and fro through the room and every one had some¬ thing to say about it as they looked admiringly at the beautiful bough. “What a difference there is between plants!” said one, which, of course, the apple-blossom took as a compli¬ ment to itself; and it held' its head higher than ever. The vase stood at an open window which looked down Into a garden and also into a field; so that there were many plants both wild and cultivated within sight, and with which it could compare itself. Some were very ordinary and com¬ mon. “Poor rejected plants,” said our friend in its contemptous pity; ’’there Is indeed a difference! How unhappy you must feel! at least, if you have feelings like we of the upper classes. But there must be a difference, other¬ wise we should all be alike.” As it made this remark, it fixed its atten¬ tion upon one kind of flower, with which the field was covered; that which grows everywhere, even be¬ tween the stones of the pavement; that which nobody cares for, nobody gathers because it is so common — the dandelion. “Poor despised creature!” cried the apple-blossom; “it is no fault of yours that you are so common; but you al¬ ways have been so and you always will be so; but as it is with men, so it is with flowers; there must be a differ¬ ence.” Something echoed back the word “difference;” it was the sunbeam, and it kissed the apple-blossom, and then the yellow petals of the dandelion; for the sunbeam makes no diffefence be¬ tween the favored and the unfavored flowers, it loves them all alike and counts them all as brothers. The ap¬ ple blossom had not thought of the Great God’s love for all His creatures, small as well as great; but the sun¬ beam knew better; he had come down from the very source of light, so of course it was all clear to him. “You do not see very far nor very well, my friend,” he said'. “Which is the poor weed I heard you pitying just now?” “The dandelion,” was the reply. “Nobody binds it into nosegays, every¬ body tramples it under foot; it is much too common, and when .it comes into seed it flies about, hither and thither, and sticks to people’s clothes, A weed it is and a weed it must re¬ main. How thankful I am that I am something better than that!” At that moment a little troop of

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lently out of the darkness came a milk- white man, in a milk-white boat, rowed with milk-white oars. It slowly crept near the shore, and, when within ten feet of the horror-stricken people, the man gave one yell, “Murder!” and then the apparition disappeared. All of this came to Fred’s mind as he sat right at the very scene of the story. He became uncomfortable: he tried to think of something else; he tried to smoke. Nonsense! he didn’t believe in ghosts, but somehow he was very strangely affected, and he began to wish that he and Daisy hadn’t quar¬ reled. He lokoed at the moon to be sure of its existence — and lo! the face in the niocn was enwreathed in a hide¬ ous, broad grin. A sort’of cold, clam¬ my feeling came over him. The beat¬ ing of his heart was annoyingly loud, and the dry leaves on the ground did make such a noise. To relieve the monotony of the hor¬ rible spell that had come over him, he picked up a pebble and threw it to see it skim along the water. He threw it tovard the west, but just as it reached the place where the boat had been wrecked it suddenly turned and almost instantaneously dropped into the wa'ter at the very spot of the wreck. The awful feeling that came over Fred is indescribable. Before he had thrown the stone the water was very quiet; but now it began to move and bubble, as if disturbed by an angry demon. And silently and steadily out of the water rose a figure, milk-white. It was eagerly looking over the side of a milk-white boat, which was rowed with milk-white oars. The boat rocked as the ghost gloomily stood up and waved' its white, elfish-shaped hat at Fred, who by this time had become weak and was unable to move. He wanted to yell, tO' do something, any¬ thing to break the horrible silence. As the ghost approached it took on the exact likeness of Daisy — the tall, slender form, the well-shaped head and flowing hair gracefully drooping on her rounded' shoulders. Yet it was so ghastly and unnatural! Slowly the boat drew near, but Fred could not move. He tried to call, but found no voice, while nearer, still nearer, came the phantom. It was within five feet of Fred, and eagerly he watched it, when suddenly it leaped at him. caught him by the hair, which was by this time standing on end, yelled “Murder!” with a horrible, un¬ earthly scream — and, oh! with that he awoke. “I am so glad it was a dream. It was all my fault that Daisy and I quarreled. I guess I'll go down to the house and see her.” THE TALE OE THE EROGGIE By Blodwen Davies. Down in a well on a great mossy rock which the sunbeams ne’er lighten. Alone in the dampness and darkness a little green froggie sat craoking. Pausing a moment as if he were listening for some far-off answer. Shrilly he’d keep up his calling; then, pausing, again he would listen. Soon in a neighboring swamp where the rushes grew thickest came answers — One. then another, another, until a whole chorus of voices .Joined in unmusical singing, though welcomed with gladness by alk For their voices did herald the spring¬ time and' pleasures of summer. Thus a small song in this great world of ours oft giveth joy unto many.

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children rushed into the field and in their sweet simplicity they kissed the yellow flowers they had gathered. The older children broke off the hollow stalks and made long green chains. But the oldest gathered the stalks on which the flowers had done blooming and which were crowned with feath¬ ery head's just ready to float away on the wind. If with one breath they could blow these quite away, they were sure to have new clothes before the end of the year; at least, so their grandmothers said. “Do yO'U see all this?” said the sun¬ beam. ”Do you see their beauty and their honors?” “Yes, for children!” replied the ap¬ ple-blossom with contempt. Then an old woman came into the field, and' with an old knife-stump she grubbed up a quantity of the roots to make a kind of coffee. The rest she would sell to the chemist for medi¬ cine, and be able with the money to increase her scanty stock of corhforts. “Beauty is better than all this,” said the apple-blossom as sulkily as could be. “There is a difference between plants, just as there is a difference between men.” Just then a group of persons en¬ tered the room and' amongst them the young princess who had gathered the apple-blossom and placed it where it stood. But what could that be in her hand? It was a blosom, or w'hat might be a flower; for it was quite hidden by three or four large leaves placed roundl it, and another over it to make a kind of cap, so that not a breath of wind could get at it. Not even the apple-blossom was carried so carefully by the lady’s hand as this hidden treasure, whatever it might be. Very cautiously the large leaves were soon removed and there' — yes, really there, who would have believed it? — was the feathery seed-crown of the hated dandelion! It was this which she had plucked and guarded so care¬ fully that not a single feather which sat so lightly there, ready to float away on the first breeze which reached it, might move from its place. Her loving care had! been successful; it was quite perfect, and as she gazed on it she wondered at its beauty and its airy lightness. “See how man velously God has formed this simple plant!” she cried. “I shall paint it with the apple-blossom, different as they are. One has received as much from the Creator’s hands as the other; and equally are they children in tha same kingdom of beauty.” And the sTinbeam kissed the dande¬ lion and it kissed the apple-U’ossom, and as it did so a deeper blush spread over its beautiful buds. Whether the app- e-blossom learned to be more hum¬ ble for the future I do not know, but at any rate we can carry away the les¬ son that false pride is a very ugly trait. .A Freshman’s Triumph By Yvon Guiliiume, ’07. The footl)all season was at hand, and the boys of the ValeyiHe High School who had won last year’s hon¬ ors were working to organize anothei such team to preserve the good name of their school. All the members of the team had been chosen, and when the list of subs was looked over the name of Jones, a Freshman, was noticed at the end of tire list. “He can’t play,” said the captain. “No; he had bet'er not try. The field is too mudy for such a neat little' fellow,” was the reply from one of the popular boys. Jones heard all this, but said noth¬ ing. That evening, when the boys