Central High School - Almanac Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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If I let you go will you ever do this again? Honest, I won't. Hope to drop dead if I do, said Jim, shame-facedly. So the Professor helped him to climb through the Window, and at the last lift slipped a dime in his pocket. J' im paused only long enough to say, Gee, Pm much obliged, and darted ofli A He was back in a moment, though, and called out, Pro- sessor, you be a good Willie, and with this parting, meant both for a compliment and additional thanks, he was gone. The professor turned out the lights and Went upstairs. He did not tell of his bravery to his colleagues.

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u it creaked under his weight, but he darted across the narrow hall and ensconced himself behind the laundry door. ' He listened intently, and thought he heard the refrigerator door open. But no, for what would a burglar want in it? He stretched out his hand toward the electric button. But,,, thought he, if I turn on the lights now, the thief may escape before I can catch him. So once more he carefully felt his way along the hall, hugging the wall closely. I After what seemed hours he reached the door from which the sound had reached him. He stopped, heard nothingg went in and stopped again. Again no sound reached him, so he glided to the wall, reached out his hand and grasped-what? With a cry this woolly something pulled itself from the Professor's hand and Hed. The Professor started to follow it, in the opposite direction, when he remembered his all-inspiring mission and turned on the lights. He saw the refrigerator standing open, the remains of a pie scattered about the- table, and, trying to squeeze through a window, a trifle too small for his body, aflittle colored boy. Mr. Goodwilly stood dazed for a moment, but finally seized the squirming mass in the window and hauled it down, none too gently. ' . 1 Please, Mr. Goodwilly, shall I clean up the table? said the youngster standing before him, and whom Mr. Goodwilly recog- nized as the stable boy. He was a colored youth not over twelve years old, with a full-moon face and funny little 'eyebrows that accentuated his every emotion. He was rather small, and had been quite a favorite with every one in the house. By this time the Professor's anger had passed away, and the humor of the situation appealed to him forcibly. 'See here, jim, said he, what are you doing here? ' I wanted some pie, and Jane wouldn't give me any when she was baking, and so-I tore my coat, too, coming through the window, see, and he glanced at the master from under those appealing brows to see if this was having a softening eifect. Now, aren't you ashamed of yourself jim ? Awfully, and as there were signs of relenting, in the face above him, he continued, Um-m, that pie was awful good, and maybe jane won't be so stingy now.

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The.Disappointment of Nlammy Jane.- BY PAULINE BELLE COOLEY. STORM was brewing in the cabin of Mammy Jane. The f piclcaninnies, realizing the fact, escaped to the river for a swim, and, as she washed pots and pans, and swept the iioor of her neat cottage, Mammy delivered a long lecture to the sleek kitten that sunned itself in the doorway. Yes, she began, Mammy dun knowed dat dere was sumthin' on his mind, and evah since he came home from de North last summah he peered to want to do nothin but sit by de ribber an' dream, dream, dream. An' now he hab left his crops to a know-nothin' over-seeah, an' am gone to de North to git married. The kitten dozed peacefully by this time, and the clattering of pans drowned Mammy's continued mutterings. When her work was ended she donned her brightest kerchief and sat in the doorway, gazing absently over the beautiful helds of this modern- ized Louisiana plantation. Yet Mammy Jane could not see the beauties of the summer sunset, for her heart was filled with bit- terness. She thought of the many tourist parties that had crossed the plantation. The vision on her mind was that of haughty, sneering, blue-eyed Northern girls who, with their nasal tones, gay laughter, and saucy little black cameras, had visited her cabin by the river bank. . Lois, she murmured again. Yes, dat am de name ob de wife Marse Jerome iwill bring here. This was the last, worst stroke, for of all the hated tourists, a big, blue-eyed Lois was the most detested. For had she not plucked the cherished rose from the little pot in Mammy's own window, and did she not then take a snap-shot of Mammy jane, trembling with rage, and shak- ing her fist at the rude, amused intruder? Man1my's heart swelled almost to bursting. Again she recalled Jerome, the slender, motherless, dark-eyed boy who loved