Bristol High School - Green and White Yearbook (Bristol, RI)

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8 I 11b GREEN AND W H I T E girl made for the window, but oddly enough the tramp proved quite nimble and seized her. She struggled fiercely and at last broke away, picking up a stiletto which was lying on the table. When the tramp attacked her again she stabbed with all her force. Being afraid of the penalty of her act she dragged his lifeless body to the trap door in the lower fioor and dropped it down to the cellar. She told no one what she had done and she was never discovered, and thus the secret remains with her and me. “Soon, despite my will, although I do not care as much now as I did. they will tear me down, and all my secrets will be buried with me. and my decaying ancient architecture will be torn down to make room for a new and better house.” H. W. CHURCH. ’19. HUMAN MOSQUITOES Miranda’s work was all done and at last, and she could now think of her sorrows, and sorrows they surely were. The father that she had always loved and tenderly taken care of for five years had died at last, leaving her dependent on her sewing. She sat on the sunny piazza silently sewing, now and then wiping away a tear. Soon this silence was broken by: “How d’y do, Mirandy. thought I might as well come over and set a spell on the piazza with you. for. as 1 said to Hiram, I surely do know what a comfort it is to have some one sit with you at times like these. No. don’t git up. I’ll sit right down.” Now she laboriously wiped away a tear. “My. my! How awful your dear pa looked those last days! Boo. hoo! As I tell John, it is a pity he had to die. Don’t you think so. M i randy ?” Miranda said nothing, but during this salutation the peaceful expression had departed from her face. “Now, Mirandy. don’t you exert yourself to talk at all. For lands knows, as I told Hiram, haven’t I been thru such times before? ‘Oh, dear me. yes,’ says he, ‘you certainly have.’ and then he groaned. Now what do you suppose he meant bv that?” “I don’t know.” said Mirandy sweetly. “Wal. to return to our original cause. Mirandy. will you please tell me where and how in the world did you get a coffin as long as the one you got? It must have cost a sight. I wonder how you ever paid for it and goodness knows I am not the only one that wonders at it. as I told Hiram. “Mirandy. the other night about 6 o’clock I sat down kind of tired, you know, af ' -doijig the dishes, and I was sort of noddy. Well, who could expect different afteT yoiir pa dying, as I told Hiram. Wal. knock-knock ! at the door, you know. And I was sort of skeared. but I went and no one was to be seen, hut you know it was just the kind of night the dead like to visit us. On to 12 I went to bed I was that skeared that 1 did not dare to go before. Well, again came that knock, knock—so I sat right up and prayed so loud that Hiram woke up. I said : ‘Do you suppose. Hiram, that he— he —ahem. Well, who under the sun was that stranger at the funeral the other day? He sort of reminded me of a day in June about 20 years ago. But. as I said to Hiram, that could not be so. for I said he would come back to Mirandy after all these years. Say. wasn’t he peaked, tho. He is the fellow you used to walk out with, isn’t he? Well. I suppose I must he going”—but before Matilda went she peeked into the kitchen. A few minutes later Matilda hustled into Elvira Blake’s kitchen and sat down very comfortably in an armchair, then leisurely took off her shawl, as a person who had some very interesting news to impart to an attentive listener. She said: “Wal Mirandy has got a beau and what’s more she is going to get married. “What—Mirandy! Why. no man would look at her except that young city man she used to walk out with about 20 years ago.” cackled Elvira. “Yes, I will tell you how I found out. 1 said all unbeknown very innocent, you know. ‘Who was that stranger? Seems as if 1 connect him with 20 summers ago. and she blushed awful. Then I pecked into the kitchen as I came away and I saw a wedding dress, a wedding dress, a wedding dress.” she shrieked; then sighing. “Oh. well. 1 must be going or Hiram will never get his supper.” And she picked up her shawl and hustled out of the kitchen, probably to tell somebody else of the way Elvira Blake kept her house. GLADYS PAULL. ’20. TROUBLESOME EASTER EGGS It all happened because it was the Saturday before Easter, and Mr. Maxwell’s office boy’s small brother had. the day before, eaten a very beautiful Easter egg. which had left him with a bad toothache. It was a remarkable egg. very gorgeous and very sweet, and the toothache, in its own way. was just as remarkable. Friday night Mr. Maxwell’s office boy had to stay up all night to amuse his brother, who. however, would not be amused, for he cried and cried and cried. Saturday morning found the office hoy heavy-eyed and irritable, and no amount of coddling would make him otherwise. It took him half an hour to go to the bank across the street: he admitted afterwards that he had fallen asleep on the steps. His short-hand was more than usually illegible, and altogether he was very annoying; so at 1 o’clock, when Mr. Maxwell was ready to leave his office, he was nervous and provoked, looking forward with much displeasure to the afternoon of company m »nners which he was to spend at home with a week-end party consisting of his mother-in-law. his sister and her husband, although his mother-in-law expected to go home that evening. Mr. Maxwell packed his suitcase with things he wished to take home, locked it. then found that lie had forgotten a book So he unlocked the suitcase, unpacked the rest of the things to make a place for the books, packed it again and relocked it. He went down the two flights of stairs; and discovered that it was raining, so back lie went, got an umbrella, then ian down the stairs, up the street to the station and

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THE (iREEN AND WHIT E 7 and became only a faint murmur. As the procession moved again around a curve, away from him, only the tones from the rear were fairly audible. Then, as that disappeared, he heard from far off only the faintly beating drums—and then it was gone from him. Again, and in conclusion 1 might say that his wealth of melody and bold richness in new harmonic effects have caused many to name him the greatest composer. HARRIET KINDER. 19. THE STORY THE OLD HOUSE TOLD “I was not always as I am now, said the old house, “you see me old. weatherbeaten and a disgrace to the street. My ancient architecture and quaint designs are not in vogue now, and 1 look curious in this long row of modern houses, and I heard that people are plotting to tear me down. “You may wonder how I have endured the different seasons so long, when and by whom I was built. “Many years ago a man who had travelled a great deal wanted a place that he could call his home, for he was getting along in years, and so he ordered that a house should be built, and I am that house. He had queer tastes, and caused dragon heads to be carved over the projecting beam of every window. Together with these and my small windows and broad steps I felt rather proud then, for I was considered very artistic, and my master and his family took great delight in me and I loved them as they loved me. Then the streets were lined with houses of beautiful, although ancient design. But now the other houses of the street are so new and neat, while I am so dilapidated that I know they are saying to each other. ‘How long is that old decayed thing to stand here as a spectacle in the street? And then the projecting windows stand so far out that no one can sec from our windows what happens in that direction! The steps are as broad as those of a palace, and as high as to a church tower. The iron railings look just like the door to an old family vault, and then they have brass tops—that’s so stupid.’ “It is true that 1 am lonelv—very lonely. All my occupants have died, and left me quite alone. It was they that warmed my heart with joy. and now I am no longer happy and contented. “My first occupants dressed and lived very differently from the people of to-day. I remember there were knights in armor, just returning from battle, and ladies in silken gowns that rustled through the long balls. These first occupants were unlike the ones that came much later, and grumbled about mv inconveniences and clumsiness. They have often wanted to change and improve me. but for some reason or other they never have, for which I am very grateful. “It is interesting to realize how much I have seen and heard during my four hundred vears of existence. Secrets have been confided within my walls and many strange and interesting scenes enacted therein. 1 have seen marriages, birth and funerals. My blinds have rattled merrily at times when I was happy and again when I was feeling dismal and sad, the wind has whistled around my corners. “Even though people plot against me. they respect me because of what the old people have said of me. and of my former splendor. It is on account, no doubt, of this respect that I have been allowed to remain so long, while I in my turn laugh them to scorn. I have sheltered too many noble people. I have been gladdened by too many peals of childish laughter and been cheered by too many flowers and trees to be now discouraged and let the new houses shame me. When I was built, my master declared that I was made of the strongest oak. and that I would endure longer than any other house in the neighborhood, and I have. “The more superstitious of the people declare that they see strange sights and shadows on my windows at night, and strange and wild shrieks, and let me tell you they are not imagining this. Do not think that I mean to sav I have been haunted by a spirit, for f have not. but every night for almost a year one of the neighbor’s servants has enjoyed m solitude. She was a lively girl, not timid like the other girls, and for this reason I liked her very much. She was hired some time ago by one of my neighbors and to escape from the uninteresting company of the other servants she used to climb in a window on the roof, which is not so easily climbed as you might suppose. Once inside my curiously decorated chambers hc stared for a long time at the old pictures of bygone days, and seemed to take great delight in looking at the pictures of lords and ladies in their ancient and dignified dress. When it came night she danced and sang, imitating wild shrieks in her impish delight. Sometimes she lighted a candle and thus cast her shadow on the window screen. All these incidets were duly reported by the scary old crows of the village, but not one of them, silly creatures, dared to investigate. Thus the girl had full possession of me whenever she wished, and no one disputed her claim to me. for she kept it a profound secret. This part about the girl as far as I have told is no doubt pleasing and makes an unusual story, but I feel that I should tell the rest of my story to give you an idea of the tpany secrets, good and bad. that 1 know but can never tell. One morning a very unscrupulous tramp appeared in the village and being afraid of the police of the village he concluded that I was unoccupied and climbed into the same window that the girl used, fie soon went to sleep, after tasting something from a bottle. All was quiet until that night, when the girl came on her nocturnal visit. She capered through the long, deserted halls, suddenly espied the tramp and emitted a scream. This roused the tramp and seeing the girl he tried to prevent her escape, for he was afraid she would spread the alarm in the village, and tramps in this village are looked upon with suspicion and often hanged on a very slight charge. The

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THE (i R E E N AND WHITE 9 arrived there just in time to swing onto the platform of the last train. He found a seat beside a cheaply dressed young man who wore a monocle over his right eye. The young man assumed a very injured expression as he tenderly • took his own suitcase off the seat beside him and put it on the floor. He stared with glassy green eyes in a very disconcerting manner at Mr. Maxwell as he put his own suitcase in the rack above them. As Mr. Maxwell's foot accidentally knocked the suitcase on the Hoor. the be-monocled young man started violently, cast a hurried glance about him. and painfully blushed. He seemed very restless and Mr. Maxwell found him very annoying, for he played with the golden cord that was fastened to the monocle, unbuttoned his coat, took out his jeweled scarfpin. examined it intently, drummed on the window-sill, crossed his knees, uncrossed them, put back his scarfpin. straightened his tie. settled his collar and buttoned his coat, after which he unbuttoned it. played with the golden cord of the monocle, straightened his tie. settled his collar, buttoned his coat, crossed his knee, and remarked in a casual tone. “Swell day.” Mr. Maxwell glanced at him. “Yes. remarkably fine.” he answered in an absent tone which did not encourage conversation. The young man, however, was not disposed to notice hints, so he began again. “Have a piece of newspaper?” “Thank you. I have one.” and Mr. Maxwell drew one which he had read, from his coat pocket, and opened it. preferring the uninteresting pastime of reading the society column or the “Want Ad” section to the conversation of this slangy youth. Mr. Maxwell found himself growing more and more irritated with the unceasing movement by his side, and long before he reached his own station he snatched up the suitcase, walked up the aisie. and stood before the door. Once or twice he looked back at the be-monocled young man, but he appeared to be lost in his own thought. At last the train stopped at his station, and Mr. Maxwell jumped off. He ran up the street just in time to see the street car he was to take go banging along ’way ahead of him. He stopped, trod heavily on the ground, and muttered vehement expressions. Now for a good two-mile walk. He had not gone far when one of his friends came along in his car. “Going home?” he shouted. “Yes, missed the car.” shouted back Mr. Maxwell. So his friend stopped and said: “I'm going around by the Swamp Road. Yon can take a short-cut through the lots, and get home quicker.” Mr. Maxwell got in and they were soon outside the town. The Swamp Road took a large circle, about five miles from the town, but one part of it went near Mr. Maxwell’s house, and at this part he was to start across-lots. They had gone about halfway around the road, when Mr. Maxwell suddenly glanced at his suitcase and exclaimed: “Oh. say. I’ve got the wrong suitcase! I’ll have to walk back and see if 1 can find my own.” “Oh! Too bad!” sympathized his friend as he stopped the car and Mr. Maxwell got out and started back to town. As soon as the car was out of sight, he again trod heavily on the ground and uttered those same vehement expressions, then he walked on. much relieved in mind. AfteT an hour he reached the station, but the young man of the monocle was nowhere to be seen. Mr. Maxwell went out. intending to go to a restaurant for some dinner, but he had not gone far when he felt some one tap him on the shoulder. Mr. Maxwell started, turned around and confronted the brass buttons of a gigantic, florrid-faced policeman. “What is it?” asked Mr. Maxwell curtly. ‘You are to follow me.” responded the man of the brass buttons. “Why?” asked Mr. Maxwell. Rut Mr. Brass Buttons pretended not to hear. “Some bag. that.” he said, indicating the suitcase belonging to the young man of the monocle. “It’s not mine.” said Mr. Maxwell. “No? Well, it’s some bag just the same,” answered Mr. Brass Buttons. Mr. Maxwell was piloted up a street into a large gray house and left in the corridor while Mr. Brass Buttons went to another room and conversed with another man. At last they came out—Mr. Brass Buttons and a very pompous, dignified short and stout man. He looked significantly at the suitcase and murmured to Mr. B. Buttons. “I told you so.” Then, as he stepped up to Mr. Maxwell, he said in a very frosty voice: “Sir. we have been told to watch that suitcase. As you were carrying it. of course we had to make the arrest.” “Yes. But why the suitcase? asked Mr. Maxwell. “Because, the I-told-you-so man condescended to explain, as it involved some of the work of his own clever brain, because, no matter how many beards or wigs or glasses a man puts on. the suitcase always remains the same.” “But suppose they change suitcases.” said Mr. Maxwell. “They do not often do so, answered the frosty voice. “You will now follow me.” Mr. Brass Buttons picked.up the suitcase and went with Mr. Maxwell and Mr. 1-told-vou-so into an adjoining room. On one side of this room was a sort of sink, info which a stream of water could be turned. To this Mr. I-told-you-so went. He placed the suitcase directly under the faucet and turned on the water. Mr. Maxwell watched interestedly while Mr. I-told-you-so carefully unlocked the suitcase and opened it. inch by inch. At last it was wide open and lie began to pull out pieces of dripping patchwork. Before lie had taken out many pieces, however, he came to a box which might have been very pretty; but it was no bedraggled and water-soaked. Under the ribbon which was tied around the box was an envelope containing a card. The writing on the card was in pencil. It read: “() Nellie Ann. Sweet Nellie Ann. Let’s go together in a span. O Nellie Ann I love but you. Sweet Nellie Ann. say you are true.” “This,” said Mr. I-iold-vou-so. tapping