Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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T II F.S I: N 1 OR !M A G T 9 “SO MUCH GOOD IN THE WORST OF US” Viola Roenigk There’s so much good in the ivorst of us, And so much bad in the best oj us, It hardly behooves any oj us To talk about the rest of us.” The December wind blew the snowflakes onto the porch of Judge Cameron’s residence where Hilda, who worked for the Judge’s wife, was busy sweeping away the snow and singing, “There’s so much good in the worst of us, and so much had in the best of us,” etc. Just then Judge Cameron stepped out on the porch and, hearing Hilda’s song, said, “Do you believe that there is so much good in the worst of us, Hilda? “I do, sir, for my mother has told me that there’s a little bit of goodness in every one of us which is bound to show some day, no matter how bad we are, and that no one's heart is so hard but that something, some time will soften it.” “1 used to think that, too, Hilda, but lately I’m not so sure,” replied the Judge, slowly moving on but thinking of the song, and thinking still more of the man he had sentenced yesterday while the criminal threatened to take his life when he would get out. Judge Cameron was thinking, too, of his little daughter Betty, who lay very sick at home under the watchful eye of his wife. That evening upon his return home, his wife told him their little daughter was no better and the nurse she had been planning to get had sent word that she could not come. She would be obliged to spend another night at Betty’s bedside although she was hardly able. 1 ler husband offered to care for the child this night, and after making sure that he would give the child her medicine every half hour, according to directions, she went to her room to try to sleep. The Judge gave the medicine the first half hour and then he fell asleep. He was awakened by the bang of a window, and when he looked out, he saw a short figure, that of the man he had sentenced, crossing the fence. He then thought of his little daughter whom he had neglected, for it was now daylight and when he kneeled at her bedside, she was breathing regularly and resting easier than she had for several days. The Judge looked at the medicine and saw it was almost finished and he also saw beside the glass a note. “I came to take a life, but I’ve saved one instead. It’s better to save than to destroy. She’s had every dose to 5:30 this morning, and now she’ll need a father, and don’t be asleep the next time she needs you.”

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8 TII E SENIOR EM A G N E T She looked thoughtful for a moment, then added— “Why not use the understudy?” Understudy! I forgot about her,” said Richley. “But does she know the part ?” “Yes,” said Mary, “And as you said she will have to appear only in the last act.” “But she’s new and if the play is not a success, 1 shall he badly disappointed after all my trouble and worry.” “Even if she is new, she has talent and has practiced the part under the direction of my mistress. Besides,” Mary added slyly, “She’s a mighty good-looker.” “Very well, Mary, have her get ready at once and I must hurry as it is now past time for beginning.” The audience fussed, twisted about, shuffled its feet: why didn’t that curtain rise? Richley added a few last touches of make-up and rushed out upon the stage. The curtain rose, the audience subsided, and all was still. The first three acts passed without mishap. The play was a success, so far, yet Richley was worried for fear that the new leading woman might spoil it. He had never seen her and was troubled. Nevertheless, the curtain rose for the' last and most important scene. The leading lady was standing in the center of the stage. She gave her lines, then bowed her head. Richley entered and advancing toward her said: “Margaret, mv dearest. I knew that you would return to me some day. You know 1 love you: surely you will not refuse me now. Marry me and make me happy. I le folded her in his arms. She raised her head to reply and he looked down at her. “My God!—Beth”—he quickly checked the words that would have come. “David, she gasped—then stopped and went on with her part. “I’ll marry you now, my dearest friend.” He kissed her and the curtain was lowered. The audience thundered its applause and after many encores the curtain remained down and the people filed out of the theater and were whirled away in their taxies, talking of nothing but the wonderful play. Behind the curtain stood David gazing at Beth as though he could scarcely believe his own eyes. “How did you ever get here?” he asked at length. Then she told him of her life with Willis; how he had squandered her money; gone out with other women, and made life so wretched for her that she was forced to leave. She received word later of his death. He had quarrel with a friend of his and had been killed. After that she had gone on the stage and wandered from place to place, growing more disheartened all the time. Then she had come to London where she had become acquainted with Rosalie Abbott, the leading woman of this company. Miss Abbott seeing that Beth was talented, had taken her as her understudy. David put his arms in the same position in which they had been at the end of the fourth act, and raising her face to his, he softly said: “Dear little girl, you will make a fine actress, and if it is agreeable to you, I would like to sign you up as my leading lady for life.” She smiled and gave him the same answer as she had in the closing scene of the play. £ £

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10 THE SENIOR (MAGNET “THE TELL-TALE STORY” Miriam Greenlee The final game of the basket-ball season was only a week away and now the beloved, admired, fast forward, Jean Handel, had failed in her English and could not play. During her four years at Oberlin, Jean had held the place as forward on the girls' team. If she was considered good her first year, what was she now? Her speed and accuracy could not be surpassed. She was swift and easy in her passes and hardly ever missed the basket, even on the longest throw. But—she failed to hand in her essay in English and this cut her mark down so low that it was impossible for her to play. The rest of the team were horrified. I heir Jean failed in English? Impossible! She was always so prompt in handing in her work, and her recitations were always so good. Surely it was all a mistake. ‘'Well ' said Helen Martin, a leader in the crowd, “I think it is up to us to ask Jean herself about this, I don’t understand it. So the crowd started on the search of Jean. They found her in her room curled up in a big chair, her eyes red from weeping. At the other side of the room, Louise Glenn, her roommate, was studying (?); but if you had good eyes, you could have seen that her book was upside down. There was a frightened, nervous look in her eves, yet with all this she seemed very calm and composed. Jean greeted the girls cordially as they came storming in; Louise spoke politely and coldly, but then that was nothing new, Louise always seemed so haughty. She had plenty of money and nice clothes, but was not gifted with brain power. Consequently she was very jealous of Jean, who was bright as well as one of the most popular girls in the college. Another thing that kept Louise at arm’s length from the majority of the girls at school, was her lack of interest in athletics. With a great deal of coaxing she might be persuaded to go skating or on a hike, but to play basket-ball or hockey, never—it was too unladylike! So, on account of all these things, Louise drifted farther and farther away from the jolly bunch of girls and boys who were looking for the big things in life and finding them; and all this time that green-eyed monster of jealousy and envy was creeping more and more into the very soul of Louise, depriving her of all the joy of school day life. The girls gathered around Jean, plying her with questions concerning the report that had reached their ears about her not being allowed to play on the team. Yes, girls, 1 am sorry to tell you, but it is true. I did not hand in my composition, and this morning Professor Glee-man told me my credits ‘were cut down to 70% on that account.” But what do you mean?” demanded Helen Martin. “You know you had that composition written two weeks ago for you read it to me that night I stayed with you. It was simply wonderful, too; I never heard anything like it and why under the shining stars didn’t you hand it in? Jean hesitated as if half afraid to speak. Glancing hurriedly toward Louise, she saw that she was deeply absorbed in the sines and cosines of trigonometry, so she said slowly: Girls, 1 am almost ashamed to tell you, for I was careless enough to lose that composition, and as I had not written it over, I had only one copy. 1