Bishopthorpe Manor School - Manorisms Yearbook (South Bethelehem, PA)

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length he reached the point where he was madly in love with her. As usual, he gave his confidence to jo, told her his thoughts and fancies and at last of his love. jo strove to give him her usual sympathy, but he was often puzzled at her evident lack of interest in what he considered the biggest thing of his life. f'Well, she thought revengefully, he can go on loving that angel faced goody if he wants to. It doesn't concern me. - But Tom was a determined young dreamer. Having firmly convinced himself that he was in love, he would not let the matter rest there. He must find his goddess and having found her, he must win her. One night, about a year after the first appearance of Mable Langleyis poems, Tom .walked into the Harriss library where jo was writing. jo, he said, I am going to find her. I can't stand it any longer. I shall write to the magazine and get her address. Then I shall go to her. I even know what I shall say to her, blushing and dropping his voice, She will probably receive me in the parlor. We will talk awhile and then I will ask her to go into the garden with me. Of course, he added boyishly, I can't expect her to be in love with me at once. It will probably take a year or so- to win her, but I want her to know first thing just how I feel- Tom's voice trailed off. He had forgotten his listener and was gazing with far away eyes at the moonlit paths of the garden. jo had turned white as To-m was speaking, but he didn't notice. Now she stood up and spoke to him. Tom, her voice shook in spite of her, Tom, I have something to tell you. There is no need to write to the magazine. I wrote the verses. Her voice broke on the last word, but she turned resolutely to the desk, See, here are the rough copies of them and here are some let- ters from the editor. She looked at him pleadingly, I only did it for a joke, just to show you I could write-. Tom sat at first like one turned to stone, then he jumped to his feet and seemed to really see her for the first time. A blush swept over his face, then he squared his shoulders, and a new look came into his eyes. He started toward her and then stopped. VVith a boyish smile but the same tender look in his eyes, he Whispered, Io, won't you come into the garden? I want you to know, and they Walked out together- IMOGENE HOGLE. I life! 1',1iib. gl ...Y it .. .J 5 'mr 'ls ..'v .tgw . ,Ai 1 fl.. iv .V MN ,

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'gus.g,,,..u...,,,,,,v.,t ug.-J L an .4 ..4u.. -A.-.A - xg man was thinking of the poetry but the girl s thoughts were on other thin s. At last she s o ' NJ Tom I wish I could write poetry I would like to try You know rhy mes always have come I ' easy to me, but- I would like to write something really worth while and have it published. Tom looked up surprised, VVhy Iof' he said and then with a teasing laugh, Wl1ich will you be, a Browning or a Tennyson ? A look of determination came into Io's eyes and she murmured, I would like to try. avi HEY had been reading Sydney Lanier together and now for a few moments neither spoke. The cc , 7 O4 I g P ke! Several months later Tom told her of some verses by a Mable Langley that had taken his fancv. jo, he said, They are great. They're not a bit sissylied, just the kind of things you would write if you could, all about the woods and trees and mad gallops on horse back-and some of them about love. Of course you couldn't write those last because you don't know anything about that. My telling you about my love affairs doesn't really give you any experience, you know, and Tom smiled upon her with a pa- tronizing air, then proposed a ride cross country, so the subject was dropped. Later he read some o-f Mable Langley's poems to her. When he pressed her for an opinion she said the verses were all right, but she didn't think they were very wonderful. I-Ie was angry and hurt. She had always agreed with him, liked what he liked, why should she fail him now? But then, it was just like a girl, and for all her boyish ways she was only a girl. His mind turned to that other girl, the girl whose verses he set to musicg When he questionedjo she answered, How do I know? She is probably like the rest of us and again he was hurt She can t be he asserted positively or she couldn t write that way She must know an awful lot and Ill bet she is just the one to sympathize with a fellow this with a some what resentful glance at the little figure striding beside him More verses appeared and with each succeeding one Toms admiration and curiosity increased From the unknown s mental qual1t1es he fell to discussing her physical appearance One day while idly playing the piano he broke out with jo I am sure she must be tall and fair Go herself was short and dark as a gypsyj She is queenly and dignified Io was a tomboy pure and simplej she rides splen didly though of course only side saddle U0 rode like a manj and he turned again to the piano jo gave a disdainful sniff Yes I suppose she s an angel and only lacks the wings She is probably a modern Vents and a general authority on love If she wasn t she couldn t write that way with with ering sarcasm jo I-Ia1 riss' and Tom turned in amazement I am ashamed of you I really believe you are jealous because you cant but Io threw herself from the room with an angry toss of her head Jealous indeed she muttered Tom s curiosity concerning the young poet increased I-Ie fell into the habit of thinkin and wonder ing about her I-Ie wove pleasant fancies about her name dreamed dreams and built castles in the air At

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:e to JO, but he IVell, COl1C6l'1l 1 love, he her. . into the ny longer. shall say alk awhile expect her know first g with far t he dicln't something on the last e some let ou I could :ee her for me into his in his eveS nut together 1!oGLE it in Glhnirv y In my hand I ho-ld four portraits, On my desk four letters lie, And my thoughts are of four maidens Thus, four times I'm forced to sigh. They are all from foreign nations, Each one has such charm-such grace, Near one I forget the others In my heart each holds a place First I look at pretty Gretchen VV1th her trusting eyes of blue For her Vaderland and Kaiser There is naught she would not do Mem Ieiblmg Next my little Spanish maiden - Coyly o er her fan she smiles, Well she knows my adoration, Thus, the reason for her wiles. Cara Mia l 'Tis with parted lips so rosy, Showing tiny pearls of white That my mignome always gre Black her hair is as the night Ma cheriel Lastly but not least I linger Over her no wiles hath she Yet I know now as I k1ss her She s the only girl for mel Sweetheart' ets m :MARY GILMAN ww-ek-e-.wi-..p-1 as-L - J- -M1--A-M -ee'- - l