Ben Blewett Junior High School - Junior Life Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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'dt' , v. V ' - IEJEEFEA street lamp threw its dim and iitful light, and disappeared in the enveloping gloom. At the same instant came the sound of running feet. Then sharp and clear above the rumbling thunder came a shriek, the like of which I had never heardg then all was still save the pattering of the rain. Why had not the pursuer passed the light as the pursued had? Why that one shriek, then qu,iet?,' These thoughts shot through my mind like a flash of the lightning of the storm outside. Forgetting my hat and overcoat, but grasping my flash light, I dashed out of the house, taking as nearly as possible the path of the dim form. Suddenly I stopped as if held back by an unseen hand. stood until the next flash of lightning revealed at my feet ani open manhole. The mystery was explained. The shriek, the quiet, the ceasing of pur- suit, all were explained. All had been planned. The open manhole was directly where one running and stumbling off the curb would step directly into it. The pursuer had stopped as soon as he had heard the shriek. I bent over as far as possible without falling in and flashed on my light. Simultaneously with the flashing of my light I heard rather than felt a crushing blow, a blow so great that all that saved me from falling into the hole was a pair of strong arms. My last conscious thought was this: You're jolly well right, old chap, it was all planned, and very well planned, I'll admit? The next thing I can remember was gentle swaying that told me in- stantly I was on ship board. It seemed too much of an effort to open my eyes. When I finally did work up energy enough to look around, all was dark, save a small ray of light that came from a greasy lantern, the odor of which was so great that after a while I extinguished it, leaving the room totally dark, Questions tumbled over one another in my dizzy brain. Where am I? How did I get here? Is it night or day? Then a key turned in the lock and a burly form entered, carrying a lan.- tern. I sat up painfully, a thumping pain at the base of my head telling me that it would not stand for such rough handling and remain humbly passive. The burly form suddenly asserted itself in a voice that shook the cabin. Hello! old fellow, how are you feeling? Very well, save a rather severe headache , I replied. i What would you expect after the sandbag? he feturned laughing roughly, Come on, boys , he called. The others trooped in, pulling off their disguises and laughing up- roariously. My friends had satisfied themselves that they had proven to me that my statement was wrong. But though I did not say so, not wanting an- other broken head, I still claim that that was a hatched adventure. Cecil Boughner-8th Grade. 9

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to her dance. He'll feel an awful fool when he goes and finds he wasn't really asked. I told Cox that it was quite surprising how even idiots occasionally hit on a decent idea, because I didn't want him to get too uppish over his plan, which really wasn't a half bad one. After a fierce skirmish, in which I considerably damaged his beauty, we wrote the note. Next day Mead re- ceived the note, and, as he opened it, we saw he looked a bit astonished, which made Cox nudge me violently. On the night of the dance we found out that he had been granted leave to go. As we crossed the playground next morning, we met Mead, and he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. He said in that cheeky tone of his, I say, you two, it was awfully kind of you to invite me to Lady Plarkestone's dance: I enjoyed it immensely. Cox looked rather glum at this, so I retorted hastily, Ah! we took you in nicely that time. You needn't tell us you enjoyed yourself, I bet you felt jolly small when you got there, and I hope it's given you a lesson. Quite the contrary, he answered calmly, so that I felt like punching his head, Lady Parkestone happens to be my motherls cousin, and, as I had already received another invitation from her, I guessed it was supposed to be a trick. All the same it was very thoughtful of you to invite me, and I thoroughly appreciated it. The grub was ripping, and her ladyship tipped me before I went, so I quite enjoyed my 'lesson'. as you call it. He went off whistling cheerfully, leaving Cox and me staring at each other in as- tonishment. We were a couple of fools , groaned Cox, and I agreed. After that we let him alone, and he is just as bad as ever. When he wants to annoy us he says, When's Lady Parkestone's next dance? and of course, we can't say a word. Eugene Jacques-9th Grade. An Amazing Adventure No, I said, there is no real adventure, excitement, or romance in lifeg it is all fiction. People like it, so I write it, but it is well I have a strong imagination? A But , interrupted Tom Van Dyne, you are wrong, very wrong, Greg- ory Eliot, and some day we Che swept his arm above the little group of peo- plej will prove how wrong you are in such. a way that you will never again be able to say with a clear conscience what you have just stated. One night several months later a storm rose to such a height that I went to the window to close the shutters. It is indeed a night when one can be glad he is inside looking out , I said. As I looked, a dim shape detatched itself from, the black shadows and pouring rain, crept stealthily across the small space where the flickering 8

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T ' Swat The Prize Story Contest 'The Story Writers Club announces that in the contest open to the whole school the following were given prizes: How Meade Scored Us Off by Eugene jacques. An Amazing Adventure by Cecil Boughner. The following stories were awarded honorable mention: The Haunted House of St. Arcos by Olive jaedeman. The Story of a Daguerreotype by Frances C. Davis. Our Burglarv by Elizabeth Meysenberg. The Cloud Fairies by Jeanne Trader. A Little Bit of Goodness by Marion Thorpe. The Lucky Mistake by Froncie Wood. Things Are Not What They Seem by Virginia L. Force. CL H 66 ca Several of these stories appear elsewhere in this book. The others will be published in later numbers of The Junior Life. Eleanor C, Byrne, Elizabeth Toomey, Helen McCalpin, Virginia Hens- ley, Lucille Powell, Margaret Gilmore, Committee. By the Sea Out by the sound of the lashing wave, The sun shines brightg A light-house standing grim and gray In a golden light. Out by the shore of sand and rock The flap of wingsg Of lands beyond the sea's latch and lock, The sea-bird sings. Out where the song of the pines is soft, A wild thing callsg Although it may crawl or jump aloft It is caged by the great shore walls, Out from the land of the ships astray The night winds roarg While many a storm by waves is waylaid Efer it's cast ashore. Froncie Wood-8th Grade. 10