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THE SOPHOMORE LITERARY CLUB
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10 THE OiREEN AND WHITE THE MONKEY’S PAW The blinds were drawn, the fire burned bright; Without .the wind howled, twas a cold, rainy night. Father and son were playing at chess, Mother sat tatting some lace to her dress. The father was inattentive, the reason was plain. For in spite of his care, he was losing the game. There came a tramping of feet, a knock on the sill, Who could it be, not a man with a bill? The guest who came in was a tall burly man. He looked none the worse for the perils he ran; Sergeant-Major Morris, he said, was his name. And not, if you ask me, without his measure of fame. At White’s invitation, he sat down to rest And he whil'd away the time with story and jest. Many the story, he told, of far away lands— Of India, especially; he gestured much with his hands. They never grew tired, but kept asking for more, He talked most about an old monkey’s paw. This paw. he said, did bring bad luck. Contaminating it as though 'twere covered with muck. Three wishes, of it’s owner, would come true. But. in his words, a sinister meaning showed through. The Sergeant was persuaded to part with his prize. Not without telling, what to them seemed but lies About previous owners all being dead And others, who’d seen it, taking to bed. He ended by saying that he’d give them a last chance Before being killed, as though by a lance. The next morning early, from the bed where he lay White wished for money his mortgage to pay. As two hundred pounds was all he did want. He thought he would be unmolested by even a haunt. He was to learn in a horrible way That one can't gain without having to pay. That very afternoon, the son was at his work. Mrs. White saw that outside a stranger did lurk. While she watched, he entered the house. In as timid a manner as would a mouse. As he whispered his message, her dishes she spilled, For that very noon her Herbert was killed. But at the next words, from his chair White bounds, For the sum that is given them is two hundred pounds. One week later, as she sat up in bed. White’s wife spoke of the thought in her head, “If the first wish came true, why not the second?” she said. We can raise our poor Herbert up from the dead. The old man rose and said, taking the paw, “I wish our son brought back once more.” He relaxed in his chair and tried to laugh some, But, deep in his heart, he hoped no answer would come. A half-hour later they were sitting up in bed. The old man, still trembling, was ceasing to dread; The mother was sitting with the hope gone from her face. Absently fingering some pieces of old lace. When suddenly there came a knock on the door, Immediately followed by a fusillade more. The old woman rushed to the head of the stairs, From her was slipping all worries and cares; She opened the door, from the cupboard a dish Fell down as her husband made his last wish. A wail of misery and grief from his wife Brought the trembling old man back to life. He ran down stairs, his word I’ll not repeat, For stretching straight before him was a still deserted street. H. DeWOLF, '29. LAUOH WITH ME! Let’s laugh 1 Ha 1 Ha 1 Life is so droll and amusing. What of it if things are forever going wrong? Laugh it off, I say! Life is a joke, let's laugh and forget. Today is here, tomorrow's not come yet. When one goes to a zoo, one feeds peanuts to the monkeys, watches their antics—and laughs. So let it be with life. All things are passing, nothing is lasting. That D I got last month in Math? What of it? Am I not now betting B- How I worried, how I fret—but it passed over, and now I'm laughing—ha! ha! “I faw down and go boom.” Yes, and I cried. It was a trifle embarrassing too. I hurt myself. My companion laughed, although she sympathized with me. She said I looked so funny! At the time I was highly indignant at that laughter. But now 1 laugh at the meaning of it. “Laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone.” For. laughter is Nature’s greatest panacea for all our ills. KATHLEEN F. KELLY, '29. - COMPLIMENTS OF CALLAN CONSTRUCTION CO.
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12 THE GREEN AND WHITE LISHEN, A HEROINE Lishcn tried to look very merry as she sat on the bench in a park in Germany, with a violin under one arm, and a crutch in her hand. She had been to the master for her lesson and was resting before she continued her long walk home. As she sat there her mind was busy at work. Lishen was hoping that she might do some good deed for someone. Life was hard and dreary and Lishen was working to reach her goal. She had been reading stories about heroes and heroines. But what could a small, crippled girl of ten years do? She had always dreamed of herself as a heroine. Lishen wondered whether heroines could earn money. As she was about to leave, she happened to see a boy in the road calling for help. Lishen noticed that nobody would look at the boy and she wondered why he was not heeded. So she hobbled over and asked him what had happened. The small boy looked at her, then pushed her aside and said: You are big enough, and what can you do, a cripple? But clutching her violin tightly and feeling very sad. she happened to look up at the building near where she was standing, and she saw fire. Lishen hurried as fast as she could and found the door to the apartment. She went up the stairs and found a sick mother lying on the bed with a baby asleep in ber arms. Lishen worked fast, and aroused the mother. In her excitement, Lishen dropped her crutch down the stairs. This was a handicap because Lishen could hardly walk without the aid of her crutch. Nevertheless she hurried the mother and child from the house, and sent men to put out the fire. Through Lishen’s kindness, friends of those whom she saved became interested in her. She was sent to doctors and was cured. Lishen was a real heroine, though she did not know that through kind deeds one could become so great. SYBIL C. ANDERSON, ’31. THE FASCINATION OF WORDS What fascinating things are words! With them one may paint pictures as true and enjoyable as any product of the artist’s brush. Each word conveys a different picture. Argosies. Expeditions into the unknown. Byrd’s trip is an argosy. Lindbergh's was. Those are modern argosies. But what of the pictures called up by the word itself? White-sailed ships, moving slowly over the ocean. Loads of gold and plate; pirates! The Spanish Main. Thrills, adventure, argosies! Or the adjective sibilant. Wbat pictures that calls to mind! Mystery, darkness, rustling curtains, whispers, snakes hissing. Those things I see. Or the word thundering. A summer shower. A herd of cattle, stampeded. Guns, war, death, misery. Or the roll of drums'. Colors flying, guns firing a salute. Some great man passes by. Or the word boom. Artillery shells coming over; terror, danger. And last but not least, the popular song: “I faw down and go boom!” H. S. MASON, ’29. FLEA TIME IN FLOOD TIME The sun was setting in the west, gradually darkness was falling over the landscape before the Ark. The golden towers of Johnstown glistened in the last days of the dying sun. On the deck of the Ark. a man paced back and forth. He had no eye for the beauty of the scene before him; his whole mind seemed concentrated on his own troubles. And Noah was troubled ; he puffed angrily at his corn-cob pipe and spat frequently over the side of his vessel. He was clad in an old ulster, and on his head was a fireman’s helmet. An observant spectator would have noticed that he looked often into the sky as though in search of something, but what he saw, or rather did not see. in the calm, placid heavens above him seemed to disappoint him. for he frowned darkly and stamped heavily on the deck as though in a rage. Gradually it grew darker, but the moody figure on the deck seemed oblivious to all outside influence. From below came a discordant hum as though caused by many animals, mingled with the shrill voices of the children of Noah’s family. Suddenly the drowsv murmur was pierced by a shrill voice: “Nathan, Nathan. No answer from the solitary occupant of the deck. Abruptly a door from the cabin was opened and Mrs. Noah stepped forth. “Nathan, what’s the matter?” Noah didn’t move, a few quick puffs on his pip ' was his only answer. His wife, however, being accustomed to his moods, became silent and sat down; after having first extracted a handkerchief from her stocking, and mopped her forehead. A few minutes of silence, and then— “Its those darn fleas,' 'he said. “You know that I am supposed to bring only two of every kind of living creature, and there are millions of this type. I can't use any flea remover for fear of killing off a certain specie and the trouble is that I can’t tell the difference. 1 guess I will have to use a miscroscope.” “You forget, dear, that miscroscopes have not vet been invented,” remarked Mrs. Noah placidly, as she unstrapped her compact from about her ankle, and powdered her nose, which was a bit shiny owing to the extreme heat of the day. Noah let that pass in silence and taking a big piece of chewing gum, he chewed it thoughtfully, then, turning to his wife, he said: That's right too. Natalie, that lets us out of a lot of trouble. Since microscopes are not as yet; we can’t be expected to tell one flea from another flea. And anyway, if worst comes to worst, we can use Uncle Adam's Anchovy-Paste. That'll get rid of ’em all right. HAROLD DeWOLF, ’30. Warren Bristol Awning Shop WARREX, R. I. Awnings, Curtains, General Canvas. M. .1. Calicon. Prop. .....................................
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