Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 15 pered. “And I think we had better be going or Nancy will be furious.’ “Just a minute my lady fair. he said, drawing her into a little alcove. “There's something I want to tell you before we start.” “Oh, Jim, now you are going to spoil it all. You know you promised me you wouldn’t propose again tonight, she remonstrated. Oh, so that other fellow wanted to marry her did he, he thought. Then aloud he said, “I’m not going to propose tonight. But to be serious Miss— er—Miss Gypsy, I have a confession to make and please don’t think too ill of me when you hear it. And as he drew off his mask, he said. You see I’m not the Jim that you expected. My name is James Morris and I very foolishly, in your eyes, I judge, let myself pretend to be your companion. Can’t yon forgive me? Really, I’m a very respectable sort of a fellow and not at all accustomed to presume upon the friendship of strange ladies.” Well, I might have known you were not Jim Hadley. You acted too sensibly. Hm, I reckon I'll forgive you for you’ve certainly given me a wonderful evening, she drawled in her slow, teasing voice. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s just for tonight and Jim would have been such a bore. You said your name was Morris. Are you any relation to Margaret Morris of Boston? “Just a little. I’m her brother! Do you know her?” he asked eagerly. “And won’t you tell me your name?” “Yes, I knew her slightly at school, she answered demurely, not designing to tell him they had roomed together their last year at school. “Now your name?” he begged. “No, sir, that's your punishment. You’ll never know my name. Isn’t that a severe penalty for deceiving me? But come, you must put me in a taxi now and send me to Nancy’s.” “Oh. please tell me your name,” he implored. “Never, sir, never,” she said as she stepped into the taxi. But he knew she was not angry for she gave him the most bewitching smile, as the car started off, that he had ever seen. “Thanks, my Bohemian Girl,” he called, for the most wonderful evening of my life. Jim walked back to his apartment with his head in the clouds, only to come down to earth with a bang at the thought that he didn’t know this wonderful girl’s name or where she lived or anything. “But, Jove, he said, “I’ll find her if it takes all the rest of my life.” The next (lav he decided he would go to Boston and try to find out from his sister who she was. “Oh, those eyes of her’s and what a dear soft voice she had.” He would never forget that voice. But, on second thought, he remembered his sister was out of town and wouldn’t be home for several weeks. Then one thing and another turned up until it was several months before he saw his sister and then it was she who wrote for him to come home. The letter said that a friend of her’s was visiting her and he must come and see her. for She was the most wonderful girl in the world.” “Wonderful, Jim scoffed. He knew who the most wonderful girl in the world was, but, well, that was just the rub, he didn’t know her. Never-the-less he went home, for he did want to see his sister about that Gypsy girl. He arrived quite late one evening and in the fitful gleam of the firelight he met his sister’s friend, Mary Lee.

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14 THE SENIOR MAGNET brilliantly lighted cafes floated the strains of gay music. Morris drank in the everchanging picture before him eagerly. Having lots of fun aren’t they,” said the man beside him. “You’re right they are,” he said, “I have quite a notion to go out and celebrate myself.” “You, ha-ha,” said his friend, “behold our dignified lawyer frisking around like a two year old, ha-ha.” “Oh, come now, thirty-two is not so old. Morris remonstrated, “And confound it all I’m going to do it,” and he hade a hasty farewell to his much amused friend. “Where do you get costumes?” he asked the hoy who brought his hat. “Cleskv’s is a good place, sir, right around the corner.” Twenty minutes later Morris stepped out of the costumers attired as a Cavalier and gaily made his way through the crowded streets. For awhile he amused himself by watching the pranks that were played and by throwing countless hags of confetti, hut as he passed one of the cafes, the sound of the gay laughter drew him in. The place was filled and as Jim was following a waiter to a table he heard a soft southern voice call. “Where are you going, Jim, here I am. Amazed, he whirled around to behold a gavly dressed Gypsy girl beckoning to him, spurred on by the spirit of adventure, he went over to the table. Of course he would explain, that is, he thought he would. “Now that you have your mask we can go, can’t we?” the girl drawled softly. It was plain that she didn't realize her mistake. (But how funny; would he explain?) But hang it all when the other fellow's name was Jim, too, and this would he a real adventure,—“I’ll just play up to her for a while,” he thought. Aloud, he said, “Yes, we’d better go, it’s getting rather late.” “Isn’t it thrilling, though, going to a party when you’re not invited?” she laughed as they left the cafe. “It certainly will he a lark,” he answered. “By Jove, it will he a lark,” he thought to himself. Anything will he a lark with a girl like this : how beautiful she was with her mask; what wouldn’t he give to see the rest of her face. “Here's a taxi right here,” she announced. “Fate is certainly playing right into our hands.” “A taxi. Good Lord, where would I tell the fellow to drive them?” He took a desperate chance and asked, “Where did you say the place was?” “Why, I didn’t tell you yet, Silly,” she laughed and gave the directions herself. “You know it’s a Bohemian party and I always wanted to go to one and when I heard these girls talking about it at the theatre I just listened and discovered where it was. So tonight I thought it would he lots more fun for us to go there for a while than to rush right off to Nancy’s, don’t you?” “You bet! he answered with ferver. Just then they arrived at the address she had given to the driver and what a gay time they had. Jim and his little Gypsy girl danced once and then because they loved it, they danced until they were flushed and breathless. Heretofore, Jim had always thought dancing a bore hut then he had never had a partner like this one. “Jove, she’s wonderful,” he thought to himself. “How I hate to explain to her and spoil it all.” “You know, Jim, you’ve been awfully nice tonight,” his companion whis-

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16 THE SENIOR MAGNET “How do you do,’’ the girl said in a soft, drawling voice. “Why, er—, poor Jim, that was certainly the voice,—the voice that had been haunting his dreams,—“Good evening,” he said. They chatted for quite a while about trivial things and all the while Jim watched their guest continually. Finally he could endure the suspense no longer and as his sister left the room to get sandwiches, he softly whistled a few notes from The Bohemian Girl.” The girl’s drawling voice, trembling now with laughter, interrupted him. “Oh, Jim, Jim. I thought you weren’t going to recognize me.” And then followed happy explanations of how he had tried to find her and how, now that he had found her,— well, that’s not for our ears, but those dainty pink ears of Miss Mary Eleanor Lee. -b.-h.-s.---- GHOSTS Georgia Allen I knocked sharply on the huge oaken door. I was exceedingly tired and cross after my long drive from the station over muddy roads. Again I knocked. This time the door was opened by an old gray-haired butler. “The nurse from Chicago,” I explained briefly. “Very well, miss.” He bowed. “This way if you please, miss.” He showed me to a large room on the second floor. This room joins that of your patient, Mrs. Foraker. She wished to see you as soon as possible after your arrival,' 'he said in his quavering, spiritless voice, as he heaped wood on the fire in the grate. “i’ll bring you a lunch, miss, you're cold and hungry. A more friendly expression came over his face as I smiled and thanked him. He soon returned and placed the tray on a small table near the fire and stood to attend me. I questioned him about mv patient. “1 was sent here on short notice, not knowing what ailed my patient. Mrs. Foraker is not seriously ill, is she ?” 1 asked. “She’s heart-broken since my master's death,” he answered, a trace of scorn in his little voice. I granced at him quickly and he held my glance with a kind of challenging look. Evidently this servant held no great love for his master’s wife. I did not question him further but told him I was ready to see my patient. Sitting in bed propped up by many cushions was a dark-complected woman of perhaps thirty-five. At my entrance she turned a searching look at me. “You’re the nurse? You’re name?” she questioned sharply. Joan Worth,” I said as patiently as I could although her manner antagonized me. If first impressions are lasting I’m afraid------ Throwing aside this anger and smiling a tolerant smile, I took up my duties. Dr, Burke, the family physician, called that evening. He greeted me warmly, hut I know his eyes were searching behind that twinkle.