Cleveland High School - Beacon Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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of Memories How big the Prunty house, how square ! The mansard roof-the kitchen wing- The stiff, V ictorian, formal plan. Here was a playhouse for a king! How many times a sighing door Whispered a challenge to explore! Ten years have put an end to play- N ow I can see the whole decay, The dark green blinds-the tall buffet- Miss Prunty with her spectacles, Placid amid the disarray. Time won the day, 'tis as I feared, The old frame mansion disappeared,- Like dusty scenery for a play Long done they carried it away. The shutters, window-sashes fell. Miss Prunty's passing broke the spell. The proud facade is gone. ,Tis well I memorized the columned porch, The gray slate roof, And made a picture with my pen. You see, I loved the Prunty House, And loved it well-when I was ten. Roy Coleman, Alumnus. n 11 1 fm nm' V EE! EEE A L A ll 'Im an J' mm mm mm 1 mm mm JII rl m 1 HIL m , umm mmm mmm mmm ,.,5,mm,m, F711 'MINT IH mmi In Inn I 7 l' ' w 5 hmp 5 m mn- EH EHIEH I L mmm 4 , IQ' 'fl H ' ull! 'I 1? + m ' mmm mmm mmm T m ' I N Ml 'III M 'MIM HI lflll -M ,W--j mmm mmm mmm mm Immlmm bf 'H ' IIUIIMH ll! UMR WI Ill!! Ill WIIIMEIIHI Ililllillm all IM ITM lllfil HH m IIIIIHIM IM HI 'HDI P . MTI - mmm mmm mm mmm QmimmQ A -l:.::1:::1.Yc Page Seventeen

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W Twenty-Five Years his immediate family should see the destruction of their home, for within two years she too died. The land and the house were divided among the heirs, who later sold it to the St. Louis Board of Education for Cleveland's new portables. By Gregory Lucy-From an Orange and Blue. THE PRUNTY HOUSE Miss Prunty, spinster, lived alone In the largest house I have ever known. Full twenty rooms it had, or more, And a stepping-stone outside the door. F lowered carpets were on the floors, And fireplaces it had in scores. Somehow, I was invited in- Donft ask me how it happened sog I must have worn my welcome thin For l was ten.- And little old .Miss Prunty, even then., Was rare-with hat-pins and a cameo. Never a care in. the world had she, But sat and stroked her tabby cat, Or listlcss, slept from pale cnnui, And I was free to wander through The solemn halls for treasure trove. Miss Prunty's bedroom had a stoveg Beside the high four-poster hed A pitcher stood in bowl of red 5 A clock to chime the hour at nightg And speaking tubes of porcelain white, Set in the walls of faded roseg A nd sailorls ancient chests for clothes Held secrets of her furbelows. The parlor and the sitting room Downstairs were chill and sparsely hare. How quaint the horsehair sofas there- The walnut and the cherry wood,- The portraits that on easels stood, The frosted globes of chandeliers- The Lincoln with two damaged ears. Like old m.useuni's was the air, As heavy as the silverware. Pcxqe Sixteen

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Twenty-Five Years GROVER CLEVELAND It was not illustrious ancestry, wealth, nor luck, which obtained for Grover Cleveland the great honor and respect he held, but it was the char- acter of the man that raised him to such heights. The use of his God-given faculties caused his success. With industry, and the talents he had, he did his best. He was honest in his dealings with his fellow men, and true to his work and his trust. His perseverance brought many a long and difficult task to completion. His thoroughness prevented any backward step, and made easier each advance. He talked little, and was silent on any subject, until he understood all the facts of the case and had formed his opinion. However, when once he was sure he was right, he did not hesitate to state his convictions. Even though he knew that the expression of certain views would arouse enmity against him, still, with dauntless courage, he maintained his position, and dared to say and do what he believed was right. The presence of these characteristics might picture Grover Cleveland as a gruff old warrior, silent, except when uttering some profundity, august, and austere. Indeed, such an impression is more likely to be made because of his great stature and his stately walk. But this great man had a big, kind heart, and a large generous hand. He had a most tender and loving regard for his mother. He showed this feeling in a letter to his brother, just before being elected governor, when he said, I have always thought mother's prayers had much to do with my success. . He loved children, and enjoyed watching them, and they, feeling that he appreciated them, liked to be with him. He did not treat them with smiling condescension, but with that flattering earnestness that children like. One day, he was walking home in the rain with his son, Richard. Richard was carrying the umbrella. Rather than let the boy see that he could not hold it high enough, Grover Cleveland walked all the way down Bayard Lane with his head and shoulders bent low. His many personal friends were always welcome at his home. He made them comfortable, and seated by his library fire-place, fixed his ob- servant, yet kindly, eyes upon them, and though saying little himself, listened sympathetically to all that was being said, with a ready smile for whatever was amusing. His grave silence, however, was not the heavy, crushing kind which renders conversation painful or impossible, it was Page Eighteen