Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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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

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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 VyiaqnsriL 1 — Tembo Betty Linamen Tembo was a baby elephant. He was now a full month old, and as he frisked clumsily about his anxious mother, he found life good and worth while. The rains were not yet over, but these troubled him not. Having never seen a dry season, Tembo could not compare the present discomfort of the high, wet grass to the lush meadows springing again to life after the fires had burned the savannahs, and the first showers of the succeeding wet season had refreshed the earth once more. To his mother, Mwana Muke, the baby was an object of constant solicitation. Mwana Muke dared not doze even an instant, unless the herd was in the depths of the forest far from the haunts of the flambent-flamed eyes of the king of beasts. Yet she found infinite joy in her ceaseless vigil, and knew beyond doubt that hers was the largest baby in the entire region. The herd lived during the rains in the highlands that divided the Congo from the Nile. The harassed villagers endeavored to frighten the gigantic beasts with sound of drums and light of fires, but the elephants had learned through long experience that there was little to fear from these strange, dark-skinned. two-legged animals. Mwana Muke. leader of the herd, knew that grain was stored in the communal store-house in the center of the village. He trumpeted loudly, and to this place he led his followers. Placing his head against the fragile side of the hut, he easily pushed it earthward, scattering the millet about. This was greedily gathered up by the hungry beasts, little fearing the fleeing villagers, who thought only of their lives. Even Mwana Muke for a few precious moments forgot her little Tembo. This was the first time that Tembo had ever been alone, even for a brief moment. He was a little afraid at first: but finding no hurt or danger, he decided to explore the village. He chased fleeing blacks, hastening them on their way with fierce trumpetings and flapping of his ears. He even followed the fugitives into the bush, losing sight of his fellows as he lumbered along the path in the tall grass. This was great fun, and without thought of safely returning to his mother, he kept on. Soon the turmoil of the feeding herd became distant. The fleeing blacks had disappeared, and Tembo began to be afraid. He called frantically for his mother, but heard no response. In his fear, he rushed blindly along the path, hoping to meet some of his fellow elephants. The sounds of the village were lost to him, causing his terror to increase. T hen, as hr reached an open space, the earth seemed to fall downward. Tembo had fallen into an elephant pit dug by the cunning natives of the village. The grain was quickly gathered up by the hungry elephants. Remarkable it was how completely the gigantic animals swept the earth clean of the millet. Then Mwana Muke became aware of her baby's absence. Hurriedly she began to search for Tembo, giving shrill calls the while. Her solicitude infected the other members of the herd, though none of them knew the cause or her trouble. She somehow connected the fugitive inhabitants of the village with Tembo's disappearance, and hastened in the direction the people had fled. She called as she ran, and in a few moments came upon the clearing where the trap had been dug. Many of the herd had followed her, and in the pandemonium caused by their stampede they drove into the open a native hidden near the pit. It required but a moment for the angry Mwana Muke to crush the life from this unfortunate victim. With the precision of a born leader, Mwana Muke, the great herd bull. Page Thirty