Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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10 THE SENIOR ZMAIGNET ' While London Sleeps JOSEPH J. GRAHANI London, that foggy metropolis, The one city of the world. Such was Peter Grayson's opinion of that fam- ed historical city. Quite a compli- ment to be paid by a Parisian. Yes, a Parisian. Can you imagine a Paris- ian speaking like that? Impossible, the people would say, but wait- Peter Grayson was a student of Art. Before old enough to enter the schools he passed away his spare time in idolizing the great artists of the world. He had to keep the wolf away from his door-or starve. So, leav- ing his dear old Paris behind, he en- tered into a broad, wide, open world full of miseries and misfortunesg per- haps to die-perhaps to become famous. Five years passed and still Peter Grayson was struggling--he had not yet attracted the attention of artistic London. But he was not one who would give up. He would make all London cast their eyes on Peter Grayson, and then-his youthful am- bitions wou.ld be recognized. Peters path was difficult. London was so hard to please-oh, it was not like Paris where one could be- come famous almost over night. But London was the artistic center and not Parisi To be recognized by the National Artists Club meant fame, wealth and-life. London appealed to Peter. He loved the city, but did the city love him? he asked himself time and again. He was becoming thin and scarcely ate. He was losing -but he would play the game! One day as Peter was coming from his room, a thought suddenly came to him. He would take his paintings to the National Artists Club-he would have them pass their judgment on his drawings-he would make them recognize him. So, he re-enter- ed his room, gathered up his paintings, put them under his arms and de- parted. Night was falling. The fog was thick, so thick that one could hardly see a light in front of him. Few peo- ple were on the streets. There was hardly a sound-everything seemed dead. Suddenly a coughing was heard. It was growing worse and worse every moment and then a faint cry and--silence. The next day lay Peter Grayson in his cold and almost bare room, except for a few wierd looking canvases. He was ghostly pale, his eyes were half- opened and-he lay coughing. Not a single soul to watch over him-not a particle of food or medicine was in the room. All was bare. Suddenly almost as black as pitch-there was not a noise. Five years passed, it was the day of the hundredth anniversary of the National Artists Club-all London was keyed-up. Everyone was talking pictures-hardly a word was spoken without having some bearing on the hundredth anniversary of the Nation- al Artists Club. That night precisely at eight o'clock, the doors of the National Artists Club were thrown open-all London was invited and was there. Pictures, beautiful scenes were on ex- hibition. Never did the people of London see such master-pieces. The works were gorgeous. To pick the best was a job. The officials them- selves were completely overcome by such an exhibition from which to pick the prize-winner. A hush fell over the crowd, the officials were coming

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 9 the patients, a happy smile played about her lips. Jack said he knew that he would soon get well now, because it was a great load lifted from his heart and he knew Dolores loved him. And he was true to his word, for one fine afternoon we find him leav- ing the hospital, leaning on the arm of Dolores Burke, who tomorrow at this same time would be Mrs. Jack Reed.

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THE SENIOR JIJGNET 11 out of their chamber, the prize win- ner was about to be announced. A tall, thin-faced, middle-aged man arose from his seat and in a coarse voice announced. A' 'The VVeary Scene' by XVilliam G. Brooks has been judged by the officials of the National Artists Club as the prize winning paintingf' 'The Weary Scene' was truly a wonderful painting, the judges could not have made a better selection-but VVilliam G. Brooks, who was he? The next day the London Daily Chronicle quoted: HWilliam G. Brooks, KVVeary Scene, was judged as the most beauti- ful painting on exhibition at the hun- dredth anniversary of the National Artists Club-held at Excyll'e Palace last evening. William G. Brooks tru.ly depicted a wonderful scene, the selection could not have been better. The artist of the AWeary Scene, has been painting for eight years, but this is the first time that his works have caught the eye of the public. Wil- liam G. Brooks has a great future- can he keep it up ? Night was falling. The fog was slowly steeling. lt was a typical London night. Suddenly a coughing was heard. It was growing worse- then suddenly it was hear no more. The next day lay VVilliam G. Brooks in his rude studio, the lone fire was the only sign of life. Cough- ing, coughing, coughing. Such ter- rible sounds-surely the man was tres, tres malade. Then suddenly the slamming of a door was heard. lt was the ghastly landlord. He had come at the terrible sounds. Then XVilliam Brooks motioned him to come nearer. Jean l have something to say to you before l bid you good-byef' The landlord moved closer, he looked almost as bad as le malade. I am not the painter of the AVVeary Scene',! Jean fell back, completely astonish- ed. Hlmpossible, Brooks, you are out of your mindf' No, Jean. Ilm telling you the truth. I am not the painter of the 'VVeary Scenel' Peter Grayson was the real artistll' The poor sick fellow fell back, never to hold a brush again. A few days later, the newspaper gave considerable space to the death of William G. Brooks. - But the paper never learned the truth. They never knew that Peter J. Grayson was the real artist of the HWeary Scene. The landlord knew all. William Brooks confessed all to him-how he had stolen Peter Gray- son's paintings after the unfortunate man had died and how he had placed the paintings on exhibition and won national fame.