Central Intermediate School - Memories Yearbook (Ottawa, IL)

Page 250 text:

fi 151526-2: Z PDLYSCQFVE E :1-19262 f232j Mrs. Harmon had been staring at him fixedly. She did not answer him now, but turned back to the ironing board and began ironing slowly and heavily. And have you ever regretted it? No, I knew it. And your folks came round to see your side of it all right, too. ''Margaret-Margaret,-they-oh-were married last Saturday, Mar- garet,-at Eau Claire 5 but-but I thought-maybe we could-well, sort of fix up a-a pretty wedding here-maybe. ' There were tears in Margaret Harmon's eyes, and a tightening in her throatg but she went on ironing the ruffles on Ruth's blue dress. Her voice was thick as she answered the old man. I wish I had known it Saturdayg the lilacs were so pretty then,-I guess, though, the bridal wreath will be out in a few days. .T-.1-CJ..-TT-il SYMBOL By HUBER SAMMIS Silvered sheen of glittering glass, A sparkling diamond ring, Platinum mount and opal border- Barbaric little thing. O-i-1-. SONG OF THE RIVER By HUBER SAMMIS Rest on my bosom, the river sings, Sleep on my tree-shaded banks, Drift on my current, enjoying it all, To realize my beauty is thanks. My moonlights are yours, the river sings, The rose-tinted sunset and dawn, Take them and keep them, enjoying them all, Let trouble and worry be gone.

Page 249 text:

gage-.1-1: 5 PDLYSCOPE 2 -'Li'-19262 52311 with the supper. His eyes twinkled as she hugged him and ran away, al- most her lively old self. For a long time Grandpa Harmon sat on the old garden bench. It was not till he felt the sting of the cool breeze which had sprung up that he roused himself from his thoughts. Then he stooped over, stiffly and feebly, and he picked a handful of small red radishes, which he carried into the house. Here, Margaret, I picked you some radishes-nice radishesf' His daughter-in-law looked at him suspiciously, but said nothing'. She still said nothing when he and Ruth started off for a turn around the block, after the evening meal was over and the dishes washed. Two blocks from home they stepped into a waiting car-a handsome car of an expensive make. The ride was not long, but the conversation was terse and to the point. The next morning while Ruth was at school, Grandpa Harmon man- aged to corner Ruth's mother as she bent over the ironing board in the basement. I hear Wayne Faber has been promoted to be assistant manager of the branch office at Eau Claire, he observed conversationally. Oh, he has, has he? I wonder who he got to pull for him ? Nobody that I know of. Seems he's been doing some pretty g'ood work lately-he's selling his car, too, he added, innocently, and as an after- thought. Mrs. Harmon set the i1'on down with a loud thump and gazed at her father-in-law as though questioning his reason. Wayne Faber sold his car! You'll be telling me next he's saving the money, I suppose ! Well now, it looks that way. He has quite a little pile, I guess. Some old man-oh, left him some, too. He coughed, the words stuck guiltily in his throat. You see, Margaret, it was like this. I-Ie's just crazy over some girl -just plain gone on her. And he's saved this money, 'cause they were married last week. Margaret Harmon stiffened. Her face fiushed darkly, dangerously. So I she snapped fiercely, but he seemed not to mind. Sol He pre- tends to be in love with my Ruth one day, and then the next can fall so far in love with another girl that he's willing to break all the traditions that have grown up about him, so he can marry her. I'd just begun to think that maybe he did amount to something after all-and you add that! As if my Ruth -. She stopped, overcome by her angry indignation. Grandpa rubbed his hands together nervously. Little drops of per- spiration stood on his forehead. His voice was pleading and uncommonly gentle. Well, now Margaret, you see it's like this. He did it out of love for our-your Ruth, Margaret. It's awful hard for two young ones what's in love to-to stay put-when the family separates 'em. I guess all young folks are like that when the old folks don't understand. You-you recollect -you and J im-what you did, don't you ?. Don't you, Margaret ?

Page 251 text:

211365 5 PDLYSCDPE 3 2-..-119265 li233fI GROWING UP By ANNA CAMPBELL I have a deep, dark secret to divulge. One which you have never heard before, and one which will probably be a turning point in your life. It's this, never grow up. Let no one beguile you with words of the exquisite joys of grown-up-dom. There are none. Aim rather to preserve your youth until that time when you shall reach the state of eternal bliss,-old age. For years I have been disillusioned. Experience is the best teacher, but her prices are exorbitant, and as a parting gift I bequeath you this priceless information gratis. When I was a child, my greatest ambition was to grow up. Countless times have I clenched my hands hard, shut my eyes tightly and grit my teeth on this expression, just wait till I'm grown up, then I'll show them. Many indignities did I suffer during my early childhood which I thought no one would dare inflict upon me when I reached the age of maturity. Often at the end of my nightly Now I lay me down to sleep, I would fervently add and Jesus make me grow up in a big hurry. Mother would ask me what were the words which I usually repeated so devoutly, yet rather in- distinctly at the end of my prayers. Just praying to be a big girl, Mother, was always my reply. Of course Mother never knew the wealth of meaning behind those simple words. I used to think the indignities of childhood were insufferable for the memories of a certain little stiff brush with a hard, black wooden back were both painful and vivid. Furthermore, I was given little choice in the selec- tion of my food, my hour of retiring, my wardrobe or even my playmates. Many times did I rebel against these indignities. I would console myself, however, with the thought that when I grew up, I would wear a big hat with sweeping plumes and flowers, beautiful lace dresses of my own choos- ing, high heeled slippers, and all the other adornments of a young lady. I would choose my own associates and drink black coffee to my heart's content. I had a very vital reason for wanting to grow up. I shudder when I think of the many times I cringed under the distasteful task of dishwash- ing. At home and abroad this task fell to my lot. When I grew up, I planned to live in a hotel, or perhaps use paper dishes on all occasions, not just for picnics as Mother did. Another grown up privilege which always aroused my indignation was the use of the old age before beauty adage which was applied to me quite frequently. I suffered and longed for the time when I should be grown up, then I would exert my authority. Ah, little did I realize that these problems were mere premonitions of the great- er ones to come. To me, like to many other unfortunate individuals, this realization came too late. I know now that being grown up offers very few compensa- tions. The joys of childhood are innumerable in comparison. There is no absolute freedom for the grown-up. He has to adhere even more strictly to laws written and unwritten. He is admonished, restrained, interfered