Bloomington High School - Gothic Yearbook (Bloomington, IN)

 - Class of 1915

Page 15 of 132

 

Bloomington High School - Gothic Yearbook (Bloomington, IN) online collection, 1915 Edition, Page 15 of 132
Page 15 of 132



Bloomington High School - Gothic Yearbook (Bloomington, IN) online collection, 1915 Edition, Page 14
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Page 15 text:

belled at it. The feeling came to him that there was some- thing ajar in a universe of souls created by Cod. which would make souls seek isolation in order to be with Cod. He wanted to go crushing through the valley. Hi? stepped upon !• dead branch, and it snap poll under his feet. It was almost like artillery in such surroundings. He went farther down the hills into the valley, where the monastery of Troyon lay in its solemnity. He found a stream of limpid water which gushed forth out of the hills, and near it. in the soft sand, he found a man's foot-print, and still other marks were in the sand. So he concluded that a monk had been praying there. Presently he came upon the monk, who started perceptibly on seeing a stranger in the valley. Pos't know. said the monk, in even tones, that this is the Valley of Wormwood, where those of the monastery of Troyon labor? I know. said the stranger, that this is the Valley of Wormwood. That is why I am here.” And wherefore? From pure curiosity, father. 1 would what is that ser- vice one may do for Cod in the wilds of nature, that one may rest in the midst of his people.'' It is claimed of Troyon. replied the monk, that wo have found Jacob’s ladder with angels upon it. descending to provide for our bodies and ascending to rule our souls. And art happy, father, in the company of the angels? Dost not weary sometimes of angels and long for one humun soul ? “One human soul! One human soul! Son. what mean- est thou? What I have said. returned the younger man. The monk stood in deep thought and then, as if only God heard him. or he were saying his prayers, he spoke. (TTi Tfcr IT...11 1.1 ••■«fra I.OW Osdlhlf “M3 One human soul! In the path before the church at Chntillon! A bird chirped and brought her from the thought in my mind to the living presence—before my eyes. I left her standing in the noth. One human soul, and her name— The monk paused, nnd turned his countenance full upon the stronger. “Had I not left her. never to see her again. I might have been the father of a son as old as thou. But the Valley of Wormwood would never have fulfilled the dream of the re- ligious life m.v mother had for me.” Was it better, thinkest thou, father, to omit the duty to the living rather than to the dead? How dost know the duty to the dead did rest with the life of the living? “Why dost ask what thou dost know, son? I know nothing, save that my mother lived and died a most unhappy woman because of some folly like this Worm- wood isolation, begging thy pardon, father.” Oh! Thy mother's name? Was it perchance—” “Mo mother's name was Alith. She was betrothed to Walter of Lisle, but he married the church instead. The monk looked the stronger over from head to heel fn eloquent silence. One human soul! Thou mightest have been the son of Walter of Lisle. And then, in ominous silence and with bowed head, he turned away. The interview was ended. The son of Alith watched him go. and broke the brush with noisy impatience as he climbed the hills out of the silent valley. MISS SCHLOTZHAl'ER. MR. H. L. SMITH. MR. HI DELSON. Judges. ». 11113 [- ----n • hrm hr mail. hi. hanar-run

Page 14 text:

fell, lie vi»» nearing Ihr church of Chatilkm. In the base of th summer evertit he «in' iU »p«rr dimly outlined iirninst It» background of tree». reflecting the beautiful tint from the descending »un. AH won silent. Little by little, inch .HCiwrntc detail crept out of the hose .1« he Ap- proached the crow . shining pun- gold on the Ivy-rrown spin-. The stained glass window» were tire red from the r.un'i ray —In contrast to the grny. cool. moss-grown stone of which the church was built. A lone binl chirped '. » the teacher, in tht» church hi» mother had entrusted h»» education Hut he wan not thinking of the church, the teacher , nor hi? mother at that moment Someone wan landing in the path in fn»t of the chureh It was her from whom he had been tempted to flee as from 11 nln against f«od Her face beamed with joy a- she recognised him from afar off She tried to bide her pleasure a he dismounted h» bom and took her hand» half caressingly in both his own. In the moment h. forgot hi» cruple» and rave him .elf over to the real and undisguised pleasure of thb meet- ing— and his home coming. “And how hast thou been, fair Alith. and thy people and my people I have lieen well. Walter, but the day have been U.ng Not much happen» at ChatUkm The no n are so busy with war. and the women grow sick with waitinr for prae» Th people—I wish— What dost wish. Alith r I wish—Oh. Walter, it I» thy mother' Must Alith be the one who breaks the new»? Is my mother—dead’ Ami her son whom she hived of all her children not with her In her last hour? Oh. Cod. what hopes she had of me' You need not tell me. I know it Is true—too true. He dropped her hami» and stepped back A look of brooding sorrow and self-contempt took the place of genial comradeship he had shown the woman he almost loved, and who truly loved him. She felt the change and it sola-ml q and hurl her deeply Why. in hia «wrcm-. •» £ m bn nearer to him than any other? And ywt, ah Mt cut With'n haaty word uf futvxv.ll. hr mounted his tired charger and .purred him . the road toward ho« when- he hod 1. ft hU m, • , whW month. Hr renumbered the very .pot «» which they had «tomi to get her ami what hr had Aid wa written on hia heart UmIav Ttu time arc rip.- (or great deed , and the grratrwt i. he who. availing him lf of (hi rruMuhny . -iU turj part of it to th« regeneration of a corrupt and lugK» h apiritual life which ha crept into the devutwr « of our eVerv' Our itioniiiicric haw t ecom pi. -- -f »u« and luruiA and impurity Thev aw not mn h.ru ea of Warning from which a man mav indue nee th» worid Th ■ w.r en- coiimjfwi to writ and read hooka. T1h- taught new and butter nt« thud» of farming and were a great help to wddy. On I- .V-voted mm can effect a change Th imagination of th. ag - ha fixed it .deal fur th.- chump » uf !'• eau« Could ! th.ni not k ve (fed better? Walter deal thaw k fw . woman OH. wiv ...n? My on' If thou ceuid be th V» h. recalled all ihi- owe more hi thought hashed bark to Alith -tamling by the church at Chattiloo. PART II. Sometime!- it take year- to bring life t.. that china for which event, hax. been preparing, and yet when that ten moment .»rriv for which life ha« waited, it cum , unher- alded It 11 a long journey through the week. and month und year, from Alith in the path before the old ChatiUon church to the wen in th Valley of Wormwoud. where th Miundii of labor or the chant of the choral Mtrvicr ahm brx-ak the alienee deep a nigh: Prom the hill overlooking th«- xalley, a .(ranger looked down He noted the wditude of the place. between dm».- foret. In a narrow gorge of neighboring hill He noted the dreadful aileoor. and rw- q



Page 16 text:

L2L— —————— —| glif » olhir |— — — — —— CTlir (6a I la tit nj uf -Iran (O'’-Krill Ity Paul K. Tracy -□ 6- aEl.L. demanded Lung Tim Monohan. “who are you after now—me? The Sergeant of the Killer laughed, and then grew grave again “Jean O'Neill.” he answered. ••Jean!” exclaimed la-ng Tim. “Jean O’Neill' hat Jean tieon doing. lad. to have the Rider after him? There's a reward of five thousand dollar offered for him.” said the Sergeant He's wanted down Edmonton way for rustling and fur the murder of a homesteader. Jean's Wild, and he'» been in tight plxc. % before, but he's always skinned through some way or other The Riders are out after him now, Tim. He’s made one break too numy Have you seen him? ”Yes. He rode through here nearly two day - ago with Rene Keroux. He said that the Riders were after him and told me to tell them that he and Rone were making for the border. He Joked so much that I didn't believe him It’s true enough. remarked the Sergeant '•Do you believe that Jean O’Neill would kill anvone. except in self-defence? queried Monohan No. Tim, said the Sergeant, “I don't think tliat of Jean; but—1 have my orders. Think you’ll catch him? “I’m going to try to. Lad. Long Tim Monohan spoke earnestly. I loved that boy's mother. I'd done anything on earth for her and I’ll do anything on earth for her boy. Can't you give him a chance to get away? He has almost two days start. I know, but if you go after him. you’re sure to get him. Can't you let him slip, some way? Tim. the Sergennt spoke even more earnestly, some fe wyears ago I took a solemn oath to preserve the Jaw and order, regardless of consequences. I have my orders to get Jean. He hu« broken. at least it I» believed hr has brok- en. the law I swore to uphold. If Jean were my own brother I'd have to get him. I'm sorry. Tim.' know ' Monohan sremi-d to have grown o.der. I shouldn't have asked you. but— He finished with a shrug- gy gesture. After a moment, the Sergeant «pokr again. Jean is on t'oeur-dc-ljon. Tim Hr has a chance. A chance' With you and McTravish watching the l» r- dcr! Never! The Sergeant mounted. Au revoir. Tim. I must be off. Thev sh-Mi hand and the Sergeant rente away. Jean Krancol O'Neill rolled out of hi blankets. n se slowly to hi feet. and. yawning and stretching to get the kinks out” ufter u night’» sleep, walked over to the fire where Rene Kemux whs cooking the breakfast. Over there's the liordcr.” he remarked to Rene, cheer- fully Before many hours we’ll be safe in the states and nwa from the Riders. Better be. growled the half-breed m a surly tone. Harry'» after us. and that damn' Scotchman l watching the border. We got t' be careful. Jean. Oh. well. Coeur-de-Lion’s got any horse in the Domin- ion beat before the start, when it cornea to a matter of a thirty-mile race or »o, and that roan you—er—picked up near Edmonton has some speed, too. Rene. man. when we get over that border, we're going to whoop thing up a bit and then we are going to la- vj damned respectable. we’ll «win be wearing halos. ”Ye». when we gel there If you don't «hut up youling like a coyote, we won't get there. The Riders are out after us. Jean O’Neill, and the Ruhr» are buixard». They're ». i ai i j— «»»« SBd bills fall dSMl “O

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