Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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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,

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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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14 THE SENIOR MAGNET blighted hopes, and misery—how the poor little letter was dotted with tears toward the end! Then the music stopped and the letter was addressed and sealed. Nora’s weary head dropped on her out-stretched arms, and soon hei shaking shoulders were rising and falling in regular rhythm. It was thus that Marquette found her. Then seeing the letter, she drew it gently from the sleeping girl’s fingers, and posted it. But when she returned from posting it, Nora was awake and in great anxiety. “Where is my letter?” she almost screamed. “I just now posted it—I thought I was helping you by sending it?” Marquette replied in astonishment. Nora sank onto the bed—she could do nothing now to prevent Patrick’s getting it—and was she sorry or glad ? She had awakened with the firm intention of destroying it. It had been that throbbing, almost hypnotizing music which had made her write as she had done. That music! That all powerful music! How often it had quieted her worries and fears into a peaceful slumber; how often it had made her forget her piled up troubles in the joy of merely living; and how it had inflamed Marquette, the unemotional, to declare, “With music like that, I could dance to fame in a night!” They had tried to find the maker of the music, time and again, but it had resulted in nought, for no one answered from the musician’s room. And no one seemed to know anything about the person, except that he was a man. Not even the landlady knew anything, which was most strange! Nearly a month later, the strangest racket was coming from the girls’ room. A man went to their door and opened it. He saw a pret- ty young girl jigging for all her worth to the most compelling jig played on a violin which was nowhere to be seen. Another pretty girl was clapping and stamping her foot in time to the music; and both were laughing the gayest sort of laugh. Ah! it was a compelling jig; and the big, goodlooking Irishman at the door couldn’t resist, so in he jigged. The music ended; the dance ended; Marquette stared; Nora rushed right into the strange man’s out-stretched arms. “Oh! Pat!” was all she said. “Well, here I been worrying sick about ye since I got that be-sprink-led letter of yours; and when I get here, here ye be jigging as joyous as if ye were in Ireland with a million o’ dollars on yer left hand, and a’ the lads in the land at yer right!” Needless to say, this was the supreme climax in Nora’s affairs, for she and Patrick were married at once. Then they sought out in real earnest the musician of the magic violin who really had brought Nora and Pat together again. Their efforts to sec him were rewarded. Pat broke in his door and found—blind and deaf —his old buddy who had saved his life twice in the Great War. Pat, with the money he obtained from the sale of a part of his land in Ireland, started in a grocery business and prospered wonderfully. He loaned his old buddy, who then was living with him and Nora, a sum of money which put him through a finishing course in violin study under a wrorld famed master. His sense of touch was also so developed that he heard and saw by it. Marquette, too, had her ambition fulfilled when she and Pat’s war buddy formed a team in which she danced to his playing. They are now universally famous, for Marquette’s talent bloomed under the inspiration of her partner’s almost living violin.