Central High School - Snips and Cuts Yearbook (Charlotte, NC)

Page 18 text:

Oh! he shrieked, blood, blood! It looks like - he put his hands over his eyes and his lips were ashen- Come, Rover, let's go out of here. Quick! quick! And he rushed madly from the door. As he passed into the dark hall, the fire fiickered low for an instant and then suddenly went out again. At every step he made, he seemed to hear the tread of other feet all through the house. He reached the door-the front door by which he had entered, and which he was sure he had left open. It was closed and locked. Wildly he beat against it, but it stood firm. A cold perspiration burst over him. Wild with fear, he rushed with his whole strength against the door, but suddenly the strange cry sounded again, this time almost in his ear. He fell down against the wall and knew no more. Every sound ceased and over the mysterious house dark- ness and silence reigned supreme. It is said that the old gray-stone house was once the happy home of a rich young lord and his beautiful wife, but he had had a bitter quar- rel with his brother-in-law and had murdered him in cold blood. The shock killed his wife, and at her death he had left his home never to return. Soon among the simple country folk the belief that the house was haunted gained headway, and the place was dreaded and shunned by all who knew of its tragic history. Years afterward, the heirs of the property decided to explore the old stone house and so sent workmen to make it again habitable. In the hallway near the door they found, to their amazement, the skeleton of a man and close by its side lay the bones of a dog. C Y '11 14

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His teeth were chattering. Strange, strange! he muttered under his breath. It Wasn't so cold out-doors, but in here it's cold and damp as a tomb. He felt his Way around in the hall, for it was now dark save for a little ray of light that came through the open door. He groped about until he found another door, which he opened and passed through. Taking from his pocket a box containing only three matches, he struck one, and by its light was able to see dimly his surroundings. He was in a large room, perfectly bare so far as he could see. He noticed with pleasure that the fire was already made for him, all but applying the match. The grate was filled with lightvvood, and a quantity lay on the floor close by. At that moment the first match Went out and left him in total darkness. Just then he was startled by hear- ing a strange cry. The dog whined piteously. Be quiet, Rover, he commanded. Didn't you ever hear an ovvl before? He hastily crossed the room, struck his second match and touched it to the fire. It caught and blazed up warm and bright, lighting up the entire room. The tramp held his fingers to the fire for a few seconds, then turned quickly, as if impelled by some invisable force, and looked around the room. He saw that it was large and square, containing two windows, and-oh! horrible sight! On the fioor in the center of the room Were large blood stains. He shuddered, and, unable to endure the sight, looked around for his dog, intending to leave the place at once. The dog had sneaked back in the shadows in one corner of the room, and lay, crouching with his nose to the Wall, Whining and trembling. Roverl he called, somewhat sharply. Just then the Windows rattled, the door slammed, and the blazing fire was extinguished in a moment. Again the strange cry rang out louder and more weird than before. The man was thoroughly frightened by this time. Hastily he struck his last match and held it to the light- Wood as before. Again he turned 'quickly and his gaze rested on the blood stains. 13

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Class Poem I. Softly the gentle summer breeze O'er the verdant fields doth blow, No more we think of winter's freeze, And of ice nor drifting snow. Bright shines the sun, the flowers bloom, And sweetly perfume the balmy air, There is no thought of winter s gloom, The joy of youth is everywhere. II. Eleven long years of joy we've had In learning, playing and in strife, Nothing too hard, nothing sad Has marred this summer of our life. The flowers of learning decked our way, Waiting the grasp of youthful hand, Working and toiling day by day, Happy victors now we stand. III. Winter comes with ice and snow, Flowers die, and birds no more Sing sweet songs. The breezes blow No longer oler green flelds but roar A song of gloom through lifeless trees. Thus 'tis with us as we depart From school days dear and hours of peace, From mates and friends so near the heart. IV. Yet though we feel the wintry gloom- As we leave our friends so dear, The bud of hope foretells the bloom Of future flower, so bright and rare, For from this sad hour when we part We begin the Spring of lifeg From now we only make the start To greater, grander. nobler strife. By JOHN W. CARR, Class Poet 15