Central High School - Almanac Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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That night, While the quiet camp in the Waste of sand Was Wrapped for a few hours in a iitful, troubled sleep, McLeod started on his homeward journey. We found him, early in the morning, lying at the foot of one of those tall, grim sentinelsg his hand caressed the faithful comrade at his side, his face, turned toward the home far over the sea, Was Wreathed in such a smile as only comes When the tired heart finds the Eternal Rest, We left him Where the Great Peninsular Railroad had claimed him as a sacrifice,-one of many,-and the glinting Wires over- head Were singing his requiem. Q!!! I 7 rr, lllia l'rH-fi ,I f-'ii fffif ..., 'Ka ' , .ii-Hi:5fi2 V4l4'l'1yjf ,V L 451 A ,

Page 144 text:

that boded another evil morrow to the patient little band in the center of the Indian desert. Gettin' his domid fangs ready for t'morrow,W senten- tiously muttered Doolan from behind his reeking pipe- tobacco was a wonderful tonic for those sleepless, spirit- killing nights. Shh! The men tip-toed up to look at the tossing rag of humanity whose fevered moan was echoed feebly by the crouching figure of a dog, lying at his feet. A lump rose in the throat of every man, little Franey turned away and made a pitiable attempt to conceal the tear that trickled down his cheek. The poor dawg ll have to go soon, whispered one, poor little Trip. The moan broke out again-the tossing figure rose upon one shaking arm, and, with beseeching eye, McLeod began a heart-rending appeal for his little collie, he told them with quivering lip how the dog had been the only tie which held him in touch with the native heaths of the home-land, he interspersed his tearful remonstrance with rambling monologue and relapsed into the sweet, old tongue that he had used as a wee bairny' in the white cot on his iather's patch of ground. Na', na', men, ye would na' tak my wee collie awa' from me, would ye noo? Maybe tonicht Pm goin' awa' from ye,-maybe Fm goin' hame,-an' I'll tak him off wi' me, ye knaw,-I'm goin' back timy Ed'nbro' an' my ain lass-Tam, promise me, Tam, dear old Tam,'7 and he clasped the whim- pering collie in his arms and buried his head on his pillow. The men turned away with moistened eyes as Fraser gently soothed the sobbing boy, and stole away as he dropped asleep, murmuring incoherently of his far-off home. Just as they dropped into troubled rest they heard his broken voice again, repeating the poems of his native bard, Bonnie Doon, sae sweet and gloarnin, Fare thee weel before I gang! it

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LOVES Logic. Y love once asked the marguerite: He loves me? and Hhe love me not? Then, While the leaves these Words repeat, A trusting face awaitsits lot. Sibyl,' she softly pleads, Hdecideg And let no leaflet be forgot! H To earth she sees the last leaf glide: It's verdict Was: He loves thee not! Lovei's face turned pale-a moment sped, Then smoothing o'er her brow of grief, With a triumphant smile she said: Ah, see! the HOW,1'6t 's lost a leaf!