Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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12 THE SENIOR MAGNET This aroused Ralph’s curiosity to the utmost. That rumblings should continue to come from day to:day, that food and drink would disappear from the top of the pedestal, seemed unbelievable. His curiosity continued to such a degree until one day he pursuaded Harry and Edmond to accompany him to the opening in the back of the head of the image. Not being stopped by the many warnings of the natives, they started to ascend the image. Slow but surely they climbed to the opening, Edmond disappearing into it first, and followed by Harry and Ralph. Here they found a large room, containing three pieces of furniture, namely: a table, a stool, and a sort of bed. On the bed— Awakened by their entrance, the man jumped up from the bed and was about to jump from the opening when Edmond recognized him as his servant and caught him. His story was short and simple as follows: Afraid of being killed for playing the instrument if he remained in the village, he had climbed to the room which he had heard about in Buddha’s head. Fnding this a suitable place, he fixed it to suit his needs, and there he played and practiced. Descending at night, taking his choice of the finest of foods, throwing the rest to the ground where animals soon found them, he returned and played or slept. The boys descended and Edmond told the natives that the anger of the God would be overcome if they would simply follow his instructions. The servant returned to Edmond’s hut where he was not molested for playing, but instead was admired much by his fellow friends. When the three boys left Lenore, the natives gave a great feast to “the men who had soothed the anger of the Gods.’’

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THE SENIOR MJGNET 11 pilor about one hundred miles west of Lenore. Here he had made some very staunch friends among the natives, since he could talk the Hindu language, and secondly, because he was an Englishman. He would en tertain the people for hours sometimes by playing his saxophone. Natives by the hundreds gathered around to listen to him play One day, one of the natives who was his servant, told Edmond that the natives suspected him of being some supernatural person. These natives, much given to superstitions, thought that some wicked God was trying to destroy their faith by talking through this strange instrument. Further, the natives that evening, secretly planned to set fire to Edmond’s hut after he had gone to bed. So as soon as darkness fell, Edmond, work ing on the hint of the servant, gath ered his belongings and fled to the woods. True enough, about midnight, the house suddenly burst into flame. Edmond came from Monopilor to Lenore where Harry and Ralph found him. Here he got another servant who also seemed to take an interest in the instrument. One day, putting Edmond’s hut in order, the servant came across the saxophone, and was very much interested in it. The brightness with which the silver glittered in the sunshine and the strange noise, had never been experienced by the native. Edmond noticing the servant’s admiration, took advantage of it and donated it to him for some service which he had performed, but not without first warning him of his own narrow escape in Monopilor. The servant proved to be a very intelligent pupil, for in a short time he had succeeded in learning how to get a sound, yes, several very wierd sounds from it. Then one day, the servant disappeared, also the saxo- phone. He did not return, nor had any one seen or heard of him. “Very strange, but, what of the God, why the bringing of food every evening? Why the long and excited prayers and all the commotion ?” asked the inquisitive Ralph. “Well, that’s queer also,’’ said Edmond. “There has lately been a series of rumblings, groanings, and so forth, coming apparently from the God. Well, the people, nor I, either, cannot explain it. I think it is just the way the wind strikes the monument, especially the head, which it appears is hollow. The natives place food for their God there in the evenings, and in the morning it is gone. There seems to be a story current among the natives, that the God is angry over the actions of the people, and that this is a warning to them. They place food there in order to please him. This food, though, disappears at night. I think the explanation for that is that the animals of the forest detect it, and after dark take it, for bones and the like have been found on the ground. But of course it would be folly to voice these opinions to the people.’’ The monument to which Edmond refers is a huge figure of Buddha, on a base about forty-five feet square, about fifteen feet high, and tapering to about twenty-five feet at the top. The figure of Buddha topping it is about thirty-five feet high, other dimensions in proportion. The head is a huge affair, the eyes looking over the land for miles. At the rear there appears to be an opening, but it is not certain because no one dares to climb to see. There is a certain hearsay that anyone attempting to climb the image itself, will instantly be struck dead. This is strengthened by the fact that a tourist a short time ago attempted to climb it and immediately fell dead to the ground.

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 13 I Beg to Contradict You By 1nta Savander The rain beat against the windows. A Celtic maiden stirred the frying potatoes loose from the bottom of a blackened skillet. Perhaps, she thought with a sigh, perhaps now it was raining back in Ireland, too; and Patrick would be driving home the cows and King George would be walking at his side. Don’t imagine the lofty Britain would be driving home the cows of an Irish peasant! King George was the brightest dog that ever lived. And perhaps old Father Reilly would be a-ringin’ of the vesper bells down in the village church. Father Reilly—with his solemn robes and his tiny black cap, slightly frayed at the edges by time and the strong fingers of joyous children. And perhaps,—a step on the stairs, a lilting voice with a touch of irony, “Every morning, every evening; Don’t we have fun!” And she burst into the room! A conglomeration of red and brown—such sunny serge! Bedraggled, its true, but the light cf battle in the hazel eyes and the haughty high-tilted chin—“Nora Dougan, I’ve lost my job!” Her wet little hat maneuvered itself dextrously through the air and hung, gaily bobbing, on a hook beside the cupboard. Nora turned—her eyes wide, tne stirring knife held limply in her half-closed hand”—And your money, Marquette?” “Oh, the show hit the rocks and the manager beat it with the iron men, but Lola Pierson (she’s prettv keen, you know) let me have a fiver.” “Well,” and Nora smiled, “we have something.” And the potatoes crackled merrily on. This was the condition of the two lonely way-farers—one, Nora, who had left her Irish home and happiness in a fit of anger,—the other, Marquette, who made her toes twinkle for their livelihood in an uptown, second class theatre. When Nora had bumped hard into the wall of unemployment and friendlessness, Marquette had picked her up in a park and brought her home; that is, to her single room of a home. Here Nora had cooked and mended while Marquette danced to get food to cook and clothing to eventually mend. Time has passed; The jolly little “room of a home” is no more. Nora and Marquette, living in a cheap (oh, very cheap) room in a downtown boarding house, are both chambermaids in the Inn Hotel, getting a pittance in wages—and looking it. But their spirits were not crushed —much—! One day when Nora had been too ill to work, she had begun a letter to Patrick. A defiant letter, telling of her success, in glowing words. And as she began to write, from the floor above sounded suddenly a martial air being played on a violin. It rose and swelled, and slowly died, leaving its place to a melody more peaceful. The music became softer and sadder; sadder ’till the sensitive old instrument seemed about to cry in its misery. And as the music changed, so did the mood of the girl downstairs; and with her mood, the contents of the letter. The defiance shaded into truth, the truth into sad remorse,