Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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JhiL TlflaqnsiL That Final Spurt Bernard Zaritzky Say, Bob, who is that fellow sitting in front of us? His face looks familiar. but 1 can't seem to place him. Thus 1 addressed my companion while we were watching the cross-country race between Barton College and Horton College. Looking at the person I was referring to, Bob exclaimed, Don't you remember the star cross-country runner that Barton had about three years ago? The fellow that went to the Olympics and smashed the world's record for crosscountry racing? Tom Davidson is his name! The Davidson running for Barton today is his kid brother.” Oh! 1 seem to remember him now. Let's see—there was some sort of story connected with his running last year, wasn't there? You covered it for your paper, so how about giving me the low-down?” Well—Tom told me the cause of his splendid running that day. but he made me promise not to write it up. I know he wouldn’t mind my telling you. though. You see it was this way. During the time Tom had been in college, he had cultivated an everlasting friendship with a fellow named Larry Colter, who lived in a little house on top of a high hill about two and one-half miles from the college. A brilliant chap and a former trackman. Larry had not been able to come to school since the automobile accident which had left him. some years before, a cripple. He now designed posters for the various merchants of the little town to make a little extra money for himself and his mother. One day Tom was sent to get the posters for the cross-country meet from Larry. He looked at the lad, with his dark eyes shining with indomitable courage in spite of the frail, broken body that he dragged about the room; and Tom found himself liking this quiet youth, in whose face shone something very much like hero worship for the big. blonde boy before him. This meeting resulted in other meetings, and gradually Larry became a part of Tom. There was a reason for Larry’s hero-worship. Every year since Tom had been in college, he had made the cross-country team. In fact, he had more than made it—he was the sensation of his part of the country. But he was not satisfied. He had one big dream that it just seemed he could not realize—to run the course fast enough to qualify for a try-out for the Olympic team. He came, more than once, within fifteen to twenty seconds of the time required, but he didn t seem to have that final spurt which would send him over the tape in the required time. He began to lose faith in himself more than once; but his crippled friend. Larry, just would not let him give up. And now, finally came his last year at college. You'll do it this year sure,’ said Larry, and Tom went down to the field more determined than ever to make the Olympic try-outs. He practiced incessantly in his spare time. He covered the course so many times that he could almost run it blindfolded. Yet he did not run quite fast enough to qualify. And now the end of the school term was drawing near. I ll do it today.' declared Tom. He went out, and instead of running faster, he made slower time than ever before. This discouraged him so much that he went home in the bluest funk of his whole career, almost determined to quit school. That night Larry dropped in to see him. ' Too bad about the race today, Tom. but you'll make it yet. Don't give up ! Remember the ofd maxim. Quitters never win. and winners never quit. You're a winner, so you won't quit !' Page Twenty-eight

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------------ — JhsL WTjctqnoL —...... His Adventure Robert Cohn “He lived within the village. Where life had not a thrill: Where nothing ever happened. And nothing ever will . . . . Martin Pike and his wife. Margaret, ran a combination general store and post-office in a small village in Maine. During the winter months the town and its inhabitants settled down to a quiet routine, but in the summer it was a beehive of industry, because it was a popular resort for vacationists. Martin was popular and well-liked by all. He was a friendly, jovial, and kindly person, fond of adventure, which led him to the habit of reading all the postal cards that came into the post-office, in the hope of finding some there. This habit distressed his wife very much, because she thought it was not the most honorable thing to do. But when she remonstrated with him, he laughed good naturedly and said, Who knows, Margaret, maybe some day I’ll find something really exciting on one of those cards. Life went monotonously along, when suddeny one day, while sorting the out-going mail, he paused a moment to read the one postal card among the letters. To his amazement, he read the following: Dear Brother: By the time this reaches you, I shall be dead. My children have not come home to see me for over a year. I am very lonely. No one needs me. Good-bye. Your brother, Jim.” Martin knew it could be none other than Jim Pierce, who lived over the hill. Here was excitement. He grabbed his hat, called to Margaret to take care of everything, and started for Jim's place as fast as he could run. He was not a minute too soon, for just as he got there, he found the old man, sitting on a cot. with a gun in his hand. Jim,” cried Martin, don't do it: don't take your life. You have a lot to live for. Your children need you. No, answered Jim, they have forgotten they have an old father.” However, Martin stayed more than an hour, talking and trying to show the old man he had every reason in the world to live. Come over to my house with me, Jim, and stay for supper. Martin pleaded, believing that at last he was beginning to make the despondent man realize the foolishness of his intended actions. I guess maybe you were right. Martin, said Jim; perhaps it would have been a foolish thing to do. So, arm in arm, the two men walked along to Martin's home. Come and walk down to the train with me, Jim. will you? I have to take the mail down to the train. As the train was pulling in, and Martin was getting ready to put the mail on it, Jim's face suddenly lit up. What is it, Jim? Why are you looking like that?” Look, Martin—getting off the train—my children!” Jim rushed over to the train, and at the sight of his children, broke into tears. Martin looked happily on the scene, and feeling that his work was well done, went quietly away from the happy reunion. Thus did Martin find his big adventure—right out of a post card. Page Twenty-scrcn

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— - —JhsL TyicujmiL — And Tom, looking at this frail youth before him who had so much faith in him. determined right then and there that he would not quit; if not for himself, then for his great friend. Larry. After Larry left, Tom paced the floor restlessly. Slowly the time passed —eight — eight-fifteen—eighty-thirty. Suddenly he stepped to the window and looked out at Larry's little house away off on the hill. He could hardly believe his eyes. He saw—not the usual peaceful scene on the hill, but a raging inferno—Larry’s house was on fire! Larry—his friend—who had kept him from becoming a coward: who had kept him from quitting school! Why, Larry was in the midst of that fire! Shouting to his room-mate to wake up, he dashed out of the house and away to the fire. Instead of running up the highway to the burning house, he took a short cut through the field. He encountered more obstacles here than in any cross-country race he had ever run. Fear for his friend lent wings to his feet. Climbing fence after fence, crossing brook after brook, up banks and through hedges, he dashed on and on. and after what seemed ages, he reached the fire. He had no time to think of himself. Where was Larry? Then he saw him, sitting in his wheelchair, staring tragically at the fire which was rapidly consuming his home. Tom rushed up. Boy I’m sure glad to see you safe! Seeing Tom. Larry’s whole being seemed to become strong; his face brightened up as it used to do. I’m all right, Tom—’ They were interrupted by Tom’s room-mate, who had ridden up with a friend in a car. Boy,’ he said, are you here already? It’s just exactly twelve minutes since you left home. I looked at my watch as you started ! When Tom learned how long it had taken him to run the distance, he was overjoyed. Twelve minutes ! He knew now that he could make the try-outs if he tried hard enough. By doing it once over a tough course with which he was not familiar, he could do it again the next day over the regular course with which he was familiar. So, with a self-confidence which he had never experienced before, Tom went out the next day and almost smashed the world's record. How he really did smash it in the Olympics you already know. Here come the leaders!’’ I broke in suddenly. Who's that leading?” ’That’s Tom's brother! Look at that kid run! Boy. he’s a sure cinch for the Olympics next year! THE OLD SAILOR’S WISH Pearl Arnovitz Oh, I wish I were down by the deep blue sea; 1 would sit on its sand-covered shore. I would dream again of the stout Mary Lee. Sailing the wide world o'er. Oh, would I were sailing the white-capped waves; Oh, would I directed a prow. How lucky is he who can breathe the salt air. And feel the salt spray on his brow! Oh, carry me back to the deep blue sea; Let me sit there and dream once more. Let me sail again on the stout Mary Lee, Till I reach the further shore. Page Twenty-nine