Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 11 man had lost his mind from thinking about the vengeance of Buddha, another had risen from bed in the middle of the night, cut his wife’s throat, and jumped from a high window, killing himself. So it went, everyone who dared to retain the idol being punished by Buddha. The shopkeeper had just procured the idol the day before, and of course did not believe the stories concerning it, but he was willing to dispose of it at a very reasonable price. So, interested in the idol, both on account of the wonderful perfection of the carving, and on account of its strange history, Wilks had bought it, and now as he placed it on the mantle in his Xew York apartment, many thousand miles from its original resting place, he wondered with a queer smile, if this small gold image had had anything to do with his experience of the night before. However, Wilks was not the kind to brood over events of this kind, and without glancing again at the image, he finished arranging his curios and then went to his club for dinner. It was rather late when he got home so he went to bed immediately and before long was fast asleep. But again he awoke in the middle of the night with that strange feeling of fear. It was nothing tangible, just a queer sense of foreboding. Again and again he suffered this same experience, always at the same time of night and often he was disturbed by bad dreams. At first these dreams assumed no special form, but gradually they began to depict different ways in which Buddha would punish an enemy. Was he, Wilks, to be another victim of the golden idol? He laughed at the idea. But althought he might laugh at the idea of a small trinket of gold having anything to do with dreams, neverthe- less these dreams recurred again and again, and Wilks dreaded to go to sleep at night. He became so nervous that the least sound startled him, and his friends, noticing his haggard appearance, were continually asking what ailed him. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, he decided to take another trip, hoping the change would help him, so he packed up and started upon another curio gathering tour. Wilks traveled continually for six months; touching many out of the wav-places of the world, but wherever he was, no matter how interesting his surroundings, he was haunted by horrible dreams at night, and, since he was unable to forget them during the day, he became morbid, the dark form of Buddha seeming to overshadow him whaever he might be doing. At last he decided to yield, and to restore the idol to the Chinese temple from which it had been stolen. Up to ibis time lie had retained the idol solely on account of his obstinacy. He believed in one God and only one, and thought that this idea of the punishment of Buddha was only a product of an overworked imagination. But now he was willing to stoop to anything to gain peace, so without a moment’s delay, he started toward China. He traveled with all possible speed, chafing at every delay, and at last reached his goal. Trembling with expectation, he entered the temple, and waiting until he was unobserved, he took the small idol of Buddha from an inside pocket where some strange force had compelled him to carry it during all his travels, and placed it upon one of the jewelled altars. Immediatelv a great sense of relief swept over him. It was as if he had been consumed by a great fire for many months, and had at last been permitted to plunge himself

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10 THE SENIOR MAGNET THE GOLDEN IDOL David Dale He woke with a start to find himself sitting bolt upright in bed. Cold beads of perspiration stood upon his forehead ( while chills chased one another crazily up and down his spine, his face blushing and paling with each shiver. His hands, which were cold and clammy, clutched convulsively at the covers and then slowly, as if the fingers lacked strength to obey his will. The room was pitch dark, and not a sound disturbed the deathlike silence. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the spell was broken, and weak from the terrible strain of those few seconds, he relaxed upon the bed. Now Francis Wilks was by no means a nervous man. In fact, he was a lover of adventure, and being quite well to do, had given himself over to the gathering of rare curios, for he had always taken an interest in things of this kind, and this pursuit gave him an excuse for traveling all over the world. And now, after the strangest sort of adventures in all parts of the world, he was back in New York He had gone to bed the first night after his return with a feeling of relief to be home again, and now instead of sleeping peacefully as he had supposed he would, he had awakened with these terrible sensations. But, as we have said, Wilks was not inclined to be nervous, and thinking the affair the climax of a bad dream, he managed to quiet his thoughts and soon fell into a light sleep. When morning came he rad almost forgotten the strange happening of the night, and gave it scarcely a thought during the day, which he spent in listing and arranging his newly acquired curios. As he unpacked these treasures he recalled musingly the circumstances under which each had been procured. The last curio to be listed was a small idol and image of Buddha, delicately carved from pure gold. He had picked up this strange idol in Peking, China, and the proprietor of the shop in which he had bought it, had told him a strange tale concerning it. It seemed that years ago this idol had been placed in one of the Buddhist temples where it was held in great esteem, and honored by thousands of devoted Buddhists. Then one day an American tourist had slipped the idol into his pocket while visiting the temple and carried it away with him. The thief was not discovered immediately, but several days later he was stricken with yellow fever and died, and when his belongings were being sent back to America, the idol was discovered and restored to its place in the temple. After this exhibition of its power, for, of course, the American’s death had been a punishment for his crime, the idol was reverenced even more than before and all visitors to the temple were told the wonderful story of how Buddha had punished the foreigner who had carried off his image. At last this story came to the ears of another adventurer who laughed at it ,saying it was all Chinese tommy rot. To prove his point, he too carried off the idol, and in a few days died from the bite of a poisonous spider. The idol had not been restored to the temple after his death, but had passed from one man to another, misfortune overtaking every one into whose hands it fell. One

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12 THE SENIOR MAGNET into cold water. Feeling like a new man. he hurried from the temple and without once looking back, made his way to his hotel. ------------B.-H. Had Wilks been driven by a troubled conscience to restore the stolen idol, or had Buddha really forced him to yield to his divine will? ,-s.------------ THE DECOY Rosamond Whiteside William Wooster Kelly was wandering aimlessly about. Why couldn’t he make friends as easily as Fred Miller did? He had been in the city for more than a month and hardly knew anybody. He unconsciously went toward a school for young men, where he had often watched them come out arm in arm, having such a good time. It was about six-thirty and almost everybody was at his dinner, but Bill didn’t realize that he was hungry. He didn’t even realize that he himself was living until a very attractive young girl passed him. She had stopped short when she saw him, and looked at him with wide, frightened eyes, which seemed to be begging for help. “Now why in the world did she look at me like that?” he wondered. But he didn’t have to wonder long, for as he stood staring after her, a large, ugly tramp almost pushed him off the walk and hurried after the girl. Just then the girl ran up the steps of a large dimly lighted building. The tramp was close behind her and Bill a short distance back of the tramp. When Bill entered the building, he heard a loud piercing scream. He rushed into the room from which the scream seemed to come. Everything was in total darkness. The door which he had left slightly ajar was slammed shut and he was grabbed and held tightly by something. “Oh! we’ve got him now.” “I want his right ear,” growled a big voice. “I want his right hand,” screamed a little rasping voive. Silence,” spoke an authoritive voice, “the officers will join me in the corner till we decide what part or parts of him we will keep.” Bill heard muffled footsteps and low murmuring voices. Where was he, and what were they talking about? Was this a civilized world ? and yet they seemed to be talking of cutting him to pieces. Put him on the table,” said the authoritive voice. Bill was placed on a long, narrow table and securely tied. A thick bandage was tied over his eyes and forehead. “We have decided to take his left hand off at the wrist and the toes of his right foot at the first joints. We will now proceed.” A moan of agony escaped Bill’s stiffly set lips when he felt the sharp knives begin to cut his hand and toes off and he could feel the blood lying in a small puddle on the table. There were still two more toes to come off. Could he live through it? Finally it was over. With several sighs of satisfaction, they turned off the lights which they had turned on after bandaging his eyes, and untied him. As Bill lay there thinking, his arm