Central Middle School - Ceejay Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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. 229,555 .N I '...s- I cvfln Encounter JAMES MUZZY. '26 ' First Prize First Year Poem A shapeless hulk in the water And battered wreck in the night Is all that is left of The Bulldog, The ship that had lost in the fight. Her men are all dead or wounded: Her colors torn from the mast: The colors of proud Old England Are down from on high at last. The fight was hard and tiresome. It had raged the whole day long. They knew not who, at nightfall Would sing the victor's song. And then there came a maneuverg By the Yankees it was staged. They drew up their ship alongside, And a hand-to-hand battle was waged. Suddenly, there started a panic. Some one in the crowd had yelled The magazine's fired! To the ship for your lives! If you tarry you'll all be killed! The sailors all scrambled aboard their ship They hoisted their sail with a reel. Ropes were thrown offg cables were cut, And the helmsman threw over the wheel. The laurels have gone to the victor She sailed away in pride To be met on the shores of the U. S. A. With shouts of, t'Hurrah for the Clyde . 1 IIEiIllEH52IIEiIZZIEESIQIRIIEEE!!HIE!IIEIIESH5313HERE!IEEiigI!EiEillS!lI!IEE3IH555552252ElEii!55IiEEiii'Si 'nur u Q Page Eighty

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f'X I IlgllillliilliillISIIEIQIESSEIQQIHIEISIEEIM- K! pert surgeon and I was not capable of doing so until too late in life. I wish my nephew to be a living example to the world of what I would have liked to be. Relatives crowded around to congratulate him but Gregory was still in a half- trance. Finally he collected his wits sufficiently to inquire when the Will was to go into effect, to which the lawyer replied, At once . Later the old silver-haired lawyer placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and said, My son, you are now a millionaire, without labor on your part. Your uncle was a wise, though eccentric man. He wanted you to make a success of yourself with the aid of things which he :acl not have in his youth, so please, for the sake of him, and for me, his best friend, do it! Five years later Gregory was firmly installed in the house of his uncle, but now it was one of the 'ishow-places of the city. Huge fire-places, warm red draperies, thick Persian rugs and heavy over-stuffed furniture made it a home of beauty. It was a night of joy in the big house. Young Mr. Gregory was bringing home The most wonderful girl in the world. The doors of the drawing room opened and the young couple walked into the softly lighted room. Gregory looked into the small piquant face of his bride with adoring eyes. Her hair beneath the small fur turban was indeed black, black as night. She was his ideal. He was telling her of the visit to the fortune teller five years before, and how she had said he would marry a blonde. When he reached this part he did not notice the girl had removed her hat and with busy lingers was pulling hairpins from her long black hair. VVhen he looked up at her again he cried: Marjorie, what have you done? The girl's hair was a golden blonde and in her hands she held the brunette transformation which told the story. flhe Seashell RUTH TITTERINGTON, '25 First Prize Second Year Poem I love to listen to the song the seashell sings to me, Of roaring waters, murmuring waves. or of a peaceful sea. Perhaps it tells of a sunken ship containing wealth untold, Describes those robbers of the sea, The bloody pirates bold. Perhaps it might, if we could hear, be willing to confide What makes the shining crystal caves in which the mermaids hide. Or why the seaweeds are not like the flowers that we see, And, oh, so many secrets could that seashell tell to me, If I but had the ear to hear them all and understand, But that is not for such as we who live upon the land. 4 I n naswana:ue:eszaxsa:emumansal:ana:1Q2Ieuanz:sizes1uaeiesaiiasss:aiezazaesssss::aa.mai.aiia.::a:s1:asa::s:aa:s: '1 Page Seventy nzne

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11' 'eu few-i'i' VIIHII' Iwi fredii ni ' --f - - nr Mm. I Saved MlI.l'iRlCD ANSELM, '26 First Prize First Year Story During the World War, a beautiful city in Belgium was the scene of great re- joicing. Visitors from all over the country were celebrating the glorious victory which they hoped had freed their city from the foe. Crowds had gathered in the streets to dance and play. The rich and the poor, both great and small, were shouting praises to their army. They had no fear of an attack from the enemy, for the city was well guarded by their troops. One little girl. Joan, watched all this merriment with a sad heart. Her home had and brother killed, and her mother carried away by the cruel enemy. She had managed to keep from starving by selling fruits and vegetables for an old woman who was been destroyed, her father N... if I li 14 WNY ff X512 , fix if ll x Cixi . .J W Ak f Z-N I fini ! 1 lllll Einisr YM :Luisa not kind to her. Hours passed of this merriment then-hark! What was that? It was the tread of marching soldiers entering the city. The Germans! The Germans! People ran about help- lessly, They crowded their way into buildings seeking safety. Poor little Joan stood like a statue. The sound of the guns rang in her ears. She must not stay in the streets. Turning to enter a small shop, she found her way blocked by a wounded French soldier. Stooping, she raised his head and asked him if she could do anything for'him. 'tNever mind me, came from his dying lips. Take this message to the general outside the city. He gave her a paper which she hid in her dress and darted away. Panic- stricken crowds rushed by, pursued by the German troops. The enemy pillaging and destroying, did not notice her. She was weak from lack of food but she pressed on. She must obey the dying soldier. Now she could see the lights of the camp. Nearer she came and nearly exhausted reached the guard who took her to the general. Giving him the paper she fell fainting at his feet. Hurriedly glancing at the message she had brought, he ordered a move which would cut off and capture the foe as it crossed the river on its retreat. Joan's courage had spoiled the plans of the invaders. She smiled as she regained consciousness to see a nurse bending over her. This kind lady told her she was to be taken care of and educated by the good officer whose army she had aided. CPets MARY VVOLF, '26 Second Prize First Year Poem While Pussy wants, for all her days, A nice warm fire to lie beside, A cozy nook in which to hide, Where she may sit all day, and dream. A bowl of luscious yellow cream And now and then a comfy lap In which to doze a while and nap. Each little hc-nstie has his way, llis own idea ol' petting, And I'm the last to say him nay. If Bowser wants a hearty spank And stroke upon his glossy flank, A well won word of honest praise. I911555651Ill?IIZZIEIIHIHIWEEEIH!!EIIE3Il5llif32llE!lEill!!iiEIlEiEilllililgliZIHIEEEilIEEEIEiH5532liilliiiiiiiilliliiglls Page Eighty un: