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Page 7 text:
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THE MAGNET 3 when all of a sudden a light was flashed on in the boys’ dormitory in the back of the building, just a little way off from where the ladder had been set up. Breathless and trembling, the guilty crowd, part on the ladder and part huddled together at its foot, saw their president, in one of his nightmares, inspecting the boys’ beds, and finding several of them empty, came to the window and opened it. The cold, frosty air must have awakened him, for in an instant he was gazing at the unlucky victims. He recognized every one of them, even to Professor Longwell, in the clear moonlight, and bade them, in a tone of voice none too gentle, to return to their rooms immediately. Anyone who had witnessed the affair would have said that it was not many minutes before all was quiet in the dormitories. Quiet, however, did not reign in the hearts of the culprits, especially that of Professor Longwell, who too clearly saw that he would lose his position immediately, and who, in the midst cf the scramble which followed the dis- covery, might have been seen to whisper a few hasty words to a small, darkhaired girl standing near him. At any rate, it was found out the next morning that Professor Longwell had disappeared before the rest of the occupants had awakened, as had also Phyllis Murray of the Sophomore class. Of course there was some surprise among the students, and President Jacobs concluded that the young professor, who had left his resignation in the dormitory, had preferred that to expulsion, for everyone knew that it would not be difficult for him to find another position. That morning in chapel the escapade was brought to light and the guilty ones were expelled from school. It was nearly noon when Vivien, almost distracted by the absence of both her brother and her best girl friend, received this telegram, sent from Phyllis’ home town: “Dear Vivien: Bill and I were mar- ried here this morning. Bob is on his way now to bring you to your new home. In haste, Phyllis.” HELEN SHOMO.
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Page 6 text:
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2 THE MAGNET fore Christmas vacation Vivien, whom the girls always sent on such missions, since they thought the fact that her brother was a professor, might have some weight with the officials, got up enough courage to ask President Jacobs’ consent for a dance to be held on the Friday night before the Christmas vacation. But, after putting her off for a day, and then another day, and finally till the day of the proposed party, he informed her that it could not possibly be held. This decision made the students desperate, and it was declared that they would get even with “Old Jake” sooner or later. The Christmas vacation came to a close, and one by one the students returned to their places, each with more hatred toward the new president. As Christmas and New Year came on Friday. the vacation lasted until the following Monday, when full sessions would begin. Most of them arrived on Saturday, so as to be ready to begin work on Monday morning. By Sunday evening all had arrived but Vivien and Phyllis, who had spent their vacation at the former’s home. It was Monday afternoon when the two finally reached the school, and as soon as they had gotten into the dormitory, the rest of the girls flocked around them, telling them that all the Sophomore fellows were wanting a dance right away, in order to begin the New Year right, and show “Old Jake” that they intended to have parties just when they chose. So, without taking off their wraps, the girls called a meeting of all the Sophomores in the laboratory and there, amid the smothered laughter of the triumphant girls, it was decided to hold a dance that night in the town hall, which could be rented very reasonably. And so it was planned that after the lights were all out, and everyone supposed to be in bed at ten o’clock, that the fellows, who would in the meantime procure a ladder from the general store down at the village, should all be out and have the ladder at the girls’ dormitory window at ten-thirty. The night was bitter cold, and although the snow was not falling, it was worse than if it had been, for everything was so still and white, and the bright, silvery snow was frozen so that the least tread upon it would cause a noise, and the culprits began to fear detection. At ten o’clock all the girls were ready and, as usual, the lights all over the building were out, and at ten-thirty the first girl in the person of Vivien Longwell was down the ladder. In little more than five minutes every one—even to Professor Longwell, to whom Vivien, in her excitement, had accidentally let out the secret, and who, after many threats and cautions on the part of the students, had decided, half willingly, to join the miscreants—were ready to start on the perilous flight around the side of the building to the front gate, the snow cracking under their feet as they cautiously picked their steps, fearing every moment to see “Old Take’s” head peering out of the upper front room window But they successfully managed to get through the big iron gate and down the Main street of the little town to the Town Hall, which they entered without any regret, for although the distance was short, they were all about frozen. Once inside the spacious hall, no time was lost in getting started, and one by one the couples swung merrily off to the tune of some popular air. It was in the small hours of the morning before the happy crowd realized that they were getting tired and sleepy, and before long were wearily trudging up the steep and icv hill. It was a tired but merry crowd that stole softly around the building to the ladder, which the girls were soon ascending. Tt seemed as though everything had turned out magnificently.
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Page 8 text:
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4 THE MAGNET A Few Bars In the Key G. HRONGS of people crowded the streets of a small Western city, seemingly taking no notice of each other, except, in their haste, to push and jostle one another along. There were just three of us in the company, and as we were going along one of the less frequented side streets, we could not help but remark about a tall, distinguished looking Man, making his way among the crowd, almost beside us, sometimes ahead or perhaps behind us, depending upon the moving crowd. The long, narrow face, with the sunken cheeks, are relieved a little by the dark, almost black eyes, which seem to give expression to the whole countenance. We notice the eyes brighten and grow larger as some pleasing sight comes within their range, while again a slight narrowing and steel-like glint expresses their owner’s displeasure.. But we are impressed by the dark, sorrowful expression over the whole countenance, which cannot be relieved, no matter how brightly the eyes may smile and sparkle. The Man goes on down the street and mingles with the crowd, but we catch sight of him pausing in front of the Edrich theatre. The pause lengthens, for his attention is attracted by the program billed for the afternoon; he slowly pulls his hand from his pocket and looks at the bill tightly clutched there; a deeper look comes into his eyes as they glance toward the ticket window, which changes to determination, as the man moves forward and falls into line. As the Fates decided, we were going to attend the same show. We purchase tickets which place us in seats near his, where we can occasionally glance at our interesting friend. Soon the curtain rises. We see our friend eagerly watching a man with a violin, who slowly moves across the stage, where his presence is acknowledged by thundering applause from the audience. He raises his violin and draws his bow gently across the strings. Then follows a sweet, gentle, sympathetic strain of music. The Man in the audience sits with bowed head; the music rises, then falls, like the swaying of leafy tree branches, but suddenly glides off into minor strains which soar and swell far above the thoughts of the audience, with the exception of the Man, who sits up, throws back his head and grips the seat, as if listening for a voice from above. The music rises higher and higher, expressing the passionate workings of the manly heart, whose whole being is bent towards making the violin speak his longings. A slight obligato strain is heard now, as if a little bird had suddenly found its voice after the storm. The Man’s eyes become filled with tears as he listens a minute longer to the strangely beautiful bird-like strains of the violin, then takes his hat in a death-like grasp and mutters to himself, “I’ll play it myself until I meet her.” A noisy crowd of us young folks from the city were sitting on the porch of a mountain hotel in the West, where we had come to spend a short vacation. Our chaperone was a woman of about fifty. The owner of the hotel, a sturdy old mountaineer of eighty years, walked out on the porch one evening at dusk and, seeing the beautiful sky over the high, snow-capped mountains, that reflected the last rays of the setting sun, he called us all out to notice it. His weather prophecy was interrupted by an exclamation of wonder from
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