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

Page 12 text:

10 THE GREEN AND W h I T E PHEASANT A forlorn, deserted, little white cottage sits upon a hillside nearly hidden by trees, and if these same trees were able to speak this is the strange story they would tell about the tenant who deserted this attractive cottage: More than a half century ago a lovely, distinguished-looking young woman, whom, because we do not know her name just at present, we shall call Pheasant, had this tiny cottage built, which was a mile from the village and situated upon a beautiful hillside covered with long, waving grass and stately trees. Here she took up her abode. Now no one had any idea who this lady was who cherished, above all tilings, peace and solitude. When she entered the village to do her weekly marketing, she was the subject of idle gossip, as her exquisite beauty and mysteriousness aroused the curiosity of the villagers. For thirteen years Pheasant lived her quiet uninterrupted life—communicating with no one. and having as sole companion a police dog. Gabriel, who was her faithful protector. Nature, apparently was her chief interest for she took long walks through the fields and woods, talking to the wild life, picking the wild flowers that nodded their pretty heads in the playful breezes, and listening to the hundreds of little birds who sang their melodies amidst the sheltering bushes. One afternoon, returning from one of these solitary walks with Gabriel. Pheasant beheld three men in uniform standing on her front porch. Terrified, she rushed in the back door and locked herself in her closet. After calling and receiving no response, the men opened the door and walked in. Gabriel, barking, leaped upon the foremost man, but grabbing his pistol he shot the ferocious dog. When Pheasant heard the dying yelp of this faithful animal, she screamed and fainted. Led to the closet by the scream, the men broke down the door, dragged the girl out to a waiting coach, shoved her in and drove off speedily. While driving through the village the coach collided with another and Pheasant was thrown from her scat. When she regained consciousness she was in the center of a group of kind villagers, who were bandaging her wounds. They persistently demanded to hear her story, and because they had been so kind to her she told them that she was Nadine Ne-vinski, a Russian princess, who, detesting the life of a Russian noble woman, disappointed in a love affair, and yearning for adventure, had disguised herself and fled to America, there to live just as she chose. Until today, no one had discovered her whereabouts, but in some mysterious manner she bad. after thirteen long years, been trailed to her cottage, and these men were officers from her father's court, who had come to take her back to her native land. After the coach had been repaired and Pheasant’s wounds had been dressed, they drove out of the village, and as she gazed at her fast disappearing cottage Pheasant cried, for she felt she was leaving behind a very dear friend. No doubt the cottage cried too, to sec its lovely mistress depart forever. Now it stands upon that hill, king of all it surveys, and its vacant windows stare out upon this heartless world with a pitiable expression—for it is a house with a broken heart SALLY CHURCH. ’.V.. ------- -------- BLISS! When you're smiling bright and cheerful And you're feeling pretty fit” Then they hand you that darn rank card And you wonder what you'll get. Then there is no “Balm in Gilead” As friend Ed. Poe used to sav, For you're sure you got no B’s or C's And you know you got no A. As you stand ther hesitating. Wondering what you'll tell the folks. You think you might appease them With a well directed joke. Now you draw that dog-gone rank card From its envelope so white You think you must be crazy For the thing that meets your sight- Yes—vou didn't flunk a thing; In fact, you got an A You stick your chest out twice as far Wondering what the folks will say. Now. I don’t know how this—er—poem ends 'Cause you see it's just like this The moment that I saw that A 1 was roused from all that bliss— Bv waking up and finding That it was all a dream. Now. I'll bet I didn’t pass a thing. ’Cause dreams aren't what they seem. Now 1 suppose this afternoon I’ll drink the bitter cup Oh gee. oh gosh, oh gracious! Oh. whv did I wake up! GEORGE H. WILSON. .14. ------- -------- Silvery, .'taking the snow covered earth Glitter and scintillate. Even putting the great Kohinoor To shame, The moon rose. V. C. OTTEN. '.14. -------- ------- Campagna—“If I come up sometime, will you give me my mark?” Mr. Burke— What do vou think I am—Mae West ? ” ❖-------Hr-----jJj Jean Tobin 0960)—“My daughter got her sinering voice from me.” Doris MacDonald— You ought to be glad that you got rid of it

Page 11 text:

THE 0 R E E N AND WHITE 9

Page 13 text:

SOPHOMORE COLLEGE PREPARATORY AND GENERAL COURSE