Barstow School - Weathercock Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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BRUTE lNs'riNcT I3 been irksome. or if petty pleasures have been often sacrificed? As we look back upon the long road we have travelled. those rocky places are smoothed out. and it is with fond memories of our many companions on this Path, and never-ending remembranees of those teachers whose kind hands have been so willing to help us on a hard stretch. that we approach the end. But we shall never lose their faces. for wherever we may go, whatever tasks we may have before us, we will always feel their presence, at their head that guardian spirit who has watched over our whole education. whom we worshipped in the primary room. reverenced in the intermediate room. and now love so dearly. But now that road has been travelled. we are at the cross-roads and shall take-which turning? Doixis Howes. iqi4. HE father took the photograph of the worst case from his desk and handed it to the mother: You see there isn't one redeeming feature in the face: he's the result of evil inheritance and environment. he hasn't an instinct that isn't brutal or an appetite that isn't depraved. If l had the authority he'd never leave barred windows and stone walls and armed guardsg he's a menace to the public that it should be guarded from as from a contagious pest. The mother looked at the receding forehead, the evil little eyes with their chopping lids. the flat nose and the sagging lips. and shuddered to think that their owner might at that moment be growling about dark alley-ways. 'Of course there isn't any way you could have prevented his going free. At least he's a splendid type for your lecture: with such a subject you ean't help succeeding. 'iTrue. as a family we are certainly well represented on the lecture platform tonight. To be sure therc's a wide difference between AThe Child in the Home' and 'Brute lnstinctf but.-each in his own way. Now. my dear. l'm ready. The child hung over the banister till she heard the door slam and the motor crunch the gravel of the drivewayl then she tiptoed down the stairs and crept into the dim light of the library. She climbed into a chair Brute Instinct to investigate the mysteries of the writing table, her chief amusement in the evenings when nurse was in the kitchen and mother and father had gone to that indefinite place called Ulecturef' The upturned photo- graph lying there suddenly fascinated her.-somehow it reminded her of a monkey at the zoo where nurse had taken her yesterday. After staring

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IZ THE Wiixi I iieiz-cock ln the meantime, the talent within the school itself was busy. Scenes from Dickens, compiled with great pains by our two tireless managers, was the Pretenders' choice for their llaster playi a choice which pleased both audience and actors. Never were there such jolly rehearsals, never were costumes assembled so quickly, or parts so easily learned. Une enthusiastic spectator exclaimed, Dickens himself couldnt have managed it better! Then again that awful monster, examinations, crept upon us. breathing dire threats and fearful prophecies. But with the end of school approaching, and our goal in sight, we prepared ourselves for the attack, and came out a conquering army. As if to celebrate our release, the peach and apple trees burst into foamy seas of pink and white, the bluebirds. robins, and meadow-larks came flocking from the south, and even the shy wild flowers peeped boldly through the fresh, green grass to greet our victory. And now we returned for the last time, nlled again with that noble resolution Unot to neglect a single lesson, and, for the few remaining weeks, to work as hard for our teachers as they had worked for us. A guardian saint was Sent to watch over us in our labors, our Shakespeare, of the calm, Uvietorious brow. Was it the ghost of a worried frown that Hitted over that brow, dear bard, when Baroness von Blomberg vainly tried to slander thee? Nay, we cannot believe that thou wouldst stoop to listen to such.folly. Thou smilest and art still, outtopping knowledge. Since the'winter term the Pretenders had been discussing the problem of a commencement play, now they decided to relinguish it in favor of the more glorious. and more laborious, pageant. None were more appreciative than ourselves of the great honor conferred upon us in giving us so great a part in this festival. Little did we realize, while we were admiring our beautiful costuming, and the whole exquisite coloring of 'ACalidore, how much care and thought it had taken to bring about the effects. Miss Witham searched New York as well as Kansas City, choosing and matching materials that, inexpensive in themselves, should give the effect of courtly splendor. Busy fingers worked day and night, clcvcr minds planned marvelous costumes, untiring workers produced shoes and shields, harness and banners. Truly we had every right to hold our heads high with pride, for what lady of Arthur's court ever steneilled her own dress, or what knight enameled his own shield? And now how soon will the day come when we must again, some of us for the last time, gather up our papers and bid good-bye to the dear shelf of poets, the singing boys, the novelists, NVill Shakespeare, and all our dear, familiar friends, who have watched us come and go, sometimes in basket-ball bloomers, again in evening gowns, sometimes in the splendid jewels and velvets of royalty. What matters it if lessons have at times

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I4 THE WEATHER-cock at it a minute. she pushed it aside distastefully and amused herself by tearing paper into tiny bits and stuffing them into thc brass dogs head that served as a paper weight. But somehow tonight the table top wasn t as thrilling as usual1 she climbed slowly down from the chair, loitered across the room and paused at the door to snap the light on and off several times before she left the library dark and wandered out to a seat on the stairs. l-ler head had begun to feel queer and light like a toy balloon. She laughed a little to think how she would look with a red balloon for a head. Why hadn't she taken that last glass of water at dinner? It would taste so nice and cool now. She wondered if nurse would mind very much if she didn't bathe and undress but just went to sleep on the stairs. But no! probably mother would stumble over her and repeat that the nursery was the place for little girls. So. wearily she climbed the stairs, dragging one foot up after another and stumbled into the nursery, When nurse came up she found a feverish little girl with shaky lingers fumbling over stiff buttons and button holes. She hurried her to bed. answered her plea for water- lots of water. -and left her with a quick. unheeding kiss on her hot little cheekg for there was a gallant young policeman on that block that even now was Ending the back porch a con- venient resting place. And in the dark library? There was a scratch-scratch-scratch as of a diamond cutter being run over glass: the snap of a lock as it sprang back: and the soft sliding of a window casement carefully raised, A Hash light flitted over the room and a dark hgure stepped swiftly to the table and switched on the light. Tne mans quick glance appraised the tables contents1 suddenly he snatched up the photograph lying there and looked at the pictured face and the inscription below. 'iConvict 8430. In sudden rage he ripped it in pieces and flung it on the Hoor. Then glancing about to be sure no valuable had escaped his eye he turned the light out, passed into the hall and silently up the stairs. A door opened noiselessly and he found himself in a room dimly lighted by a shaded globe. I-le stepped toward the dressing table and stood silently alert. gun in hand. as a half moan came from the bed on the other side of the room. He peered through the shadows until he made certain that only a child lay there. Still alert to danger he went to the bedside and leaned over. The childs hair clung to her forehead in damp rings and breathing was heavy and uneven. She murmured something about a red balloons being hot and turned restlessly. The man looked down at her a secondg then straightened up with a shrug of his shoulders. l-le went to the dressing table. picked up a trinket or two and dropped them in the bag he took from his pocket. He passed from room to room ransacking drawers and rapidly piling up his loot. Several times the sound of the childs soft moaning drew him to that room but each time after a quick glance he came back to his work. But the moaning