Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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T - E SENIOR £M AGN E T 23 OUT OF THE SNOW Genevieve Perifano It was long past the hour of midnight and a little, thin-clad, half-starved orphan was making her way through the fast falling snow. We all know how terribly sweet is forbidden fruit, so tonight, in spite of cold and hunger, the brightly lighted windows of the spacious mansions were the only ones the little flower girl cared to look at. Even if she felt in her heart of hearts, that such scenes would ever be foreign to her, still there seemed to be that something in them which quieted down her yearning, hungering heart. She paused to look at a window which seemed to lure her on. It appeared to her like a glimpse of Paradise, with its many brilliant, flickering lights, the happy throng moving hither and thither, the wondrous music which floated to her ears like the song of an angel. She moved nearer and pressed her wistful face against the window, while her heart swelled with the words— “Oh, ain't is jolly for them? Ain’t it nice to be rich and have lots of friends?” She forgot for the time being her own dreariness in seeing the joy of others. But no one noticed her; no one felt her presence, till about an hour later she was found, snuggled beneath the snow, her face pinched and blank with cold. A pitious sight indeed! It seemed as if the little orphan had at last found a bosom which would not repel her with scorn and unkindness. But embrace her and hold her as it folded itself about her. The gorgeous company, some out of curiosity, some out of pity, trailed out to see the little outcast. Whispers of disgust, sorrow and pity floated over the room. “You’d think these little brats didn’t have anything to do but go around dying on peoples’ steps,” sneered a heartless woman, who was near enough to see the little waif just beginning to open her eyes. My dear,” whispered Mrs. Clifton, “Pray do not let this interfere with your amusements. This child has fallen upon my steps and she shall be my special care.” Kind, noble-hearted lady. She excused herself from her company, who went on as if nothing had occurred, and tried her best to revive the little creature. “What is your name, my dear?” was the first question she put to her. “Lilly, just Lilly, mam.” She looked up into the sweet face above her and in a few moments Lilly was talking to her as if she had known her for years. She opened her heart and her listener felt its sorrows. “Poor little Cinderella! would you not be glad if a fairy god-mother would turn up?” “No, not just that. But oh, I do wish for some one to love me—that I could work for.” “Won’t you come to me? 1 have no little girl.” The words rang in Lilly’s ear and her face grew brighter as she asked, “Do you really mean it? I will work for you; I will love you; all I want is just a little love and kindness.” And like the impulsive creature she was, she threw her arms around her “Lady Beautiful’s” neck and kissed her passionately. It was a home of love and kindness into which Lilly had entered. She was always busy attending to numerous little household duties, much against Mrs. Clifton’s wish, who told her that she was to be as a real daughter to her. She wandered through the beautiful room, changing things here and there and letting sunshine into the house and even

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22 THE SENIOR [MAGNET just eight cents in one pocket. With no supper and with just the memory of a sandwich for dinner, the shivering cripple stood in the whirling snow, waiting, waiting, for customers. Quite a few men and women passed by, warm-hearted, perhaps, but unthinking and unseeing, too intent on their own business to notice the sad-eved lad with the crutch, pressed against the wall of a building, hoping to protect himself in a measure from the fury of the storm. It was rapidly growing colder, and the lad shivered more and more. “Stumpy” forced himself to drag his weary body out towards the corner of the street just as a young giant bumped into him, almost knocking the lad down. Grasping him quickly, Howard Tyson prevented the boy from being knocked into the street. “Argus, Mister?” “No, not this time,” laughed Howard, as he hurried on his way to the inter-urban that would take him to a prosperous community where a joyful reception awaited him. But, try as he would, young Tyson could not shake off the appeal, the reproach in those eyes that looked into his in that instant before they separated in the storm. The trip home did not remove the uneasiness, the feeling that he had not done what was right, so I loward Tyson arrived at his father's home in a depressed state of mind. The warm welcome took his thoughts away from the newsboy, but he could not entirely shake off the depression, and went to bed with the memory of the haunting eyes uppermost in his mind. Christmas Day was more of a disappointment than it had been a pleasure because Howard found his thoughts turning again and again to the crippled newsboy. In the city the next day, I loward made inquiry of another newsboy near the place where he had seen the crippled lad, but to no avail. Later in the day, Howard found a brief item in the Argus:” “Local Newsboy Found Dead on Xmas Eve. At 11:30 o’clock last night, Xmas Eve, Patrolman Winton found the body of ‘Stumpy,’ a crippled newsboy at the corner of Smith and Penfield Streets. ‘Stumpy’ had been a newsie for the ‘Argus’ for two years, and had no parents or relatives living, so far as is known. The coroner states that the death was due to hunger and exposure.” On Christmas Eve! What a Xmas present for poor, crippled “Stumpy,” snatched from life into Eternity, where he would never need the crutch again. Fhe tragedy of it! And he, Howard Tyson, could have helped or done something! And those eyes, pleading and reproachful, appealing. Howard Tyson learned a lesson that he will never forget to his dying day. Now he never refuses to buy a paper from a cripple or ragged newsboy that hails him.

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24 THE SEN 10 R TMAGNET into the mistress’ heart. For Mrs. Clifton was not a happy woman. There was one shadow in her life and that was cast by her wayward, spendthrift son. He would leave home for months at a time, wandering abroad and through the Orient. Never letting his fond mother know of his whereabouts. For Mrs. Clifton, in spite of all his faults, idolized her son. Three years had rolled by and the little orphan, thin and wasted, had changed into a brilliant and beautiful creature of seventeen. She had crept deep into the heart of Mrs. Clifton, who had watched her growing years with a keen eye. The face was calm; no old sullen look was there. No shape of care was visible upon the serene features. “You are indeed my fairy god-mother,” she would often say in a voice of deep gratitude. More bewitching than usual she looked tonight, since she had bestowed great care on her toilet. For Graham Clifton was expected home; and she was bound to captivate the wayward youth of whom she had heard so much. For in spite of his Bohemian ways, Graham Clifton was very popular among both young and old. The evening darkened and Lilly and Mrs. Clifton awaited the prodigal’s return. Lilly flitting back and forth, like a happy fairy, from the window, while the sweet little mother, her face aglow with happiness, watched at the door. There was a ring at the bell and Lilly flew into the recess of a bay-window, leaving Mrs. Clifton to greet her son alone. ‘‘I have a surprise for you. Come with me, Graham.” Lilly saw them approaching, arm in arm, “Graham, this is your new sister.” Lilly raised her eyes to look upon a face, noble, truthful, handsome. The eyes that sought hers were tender and searching. Of course, later on, when the happy trio sat down, there were the events of the three years to be explained and related, to the hero of the evening. “Gee! that sounds like a regular fairy story,” whispered Graham. “Yes, 1 brought you everything, but a fairy prince. Where is your prince, Lilly?” “Here, I hope,” volunteered Graham with a mischievous twinkle in his bright eyes, which his mother interpreted aright and acquiesced with a sweet smile as she looked at the blushing girl.