Cloverdale Union High School - Spectator Yearbook (Cloverdale, CA)

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24 C. H. S. SPECTATOR She returned home with a very sad and disappointed feel¬ ing. When next she encountered Everett her manner was so cold and distant that she caused him no little wonder. During this time Charley’s conscience was by no means at rest. He knew he had done wrong and each day the weight upon his mind became heavier. At last he seized his hat and coat and exclaiming “I’ll do it!” he rushed out into the street, and was soon at Liable ’s door, inquiring for that young lady. She was at home, but greeted him not so warmly as formerly. He, on the other hand, lost no time in stating the object of his call. “Miss Howard,” he stammered, as he nervously tore to pieces a rose which he held in his hand, “I came to confess to you an act, and when you know it, I will not have the courage to seek your respect or forgiveness.” Mable looked surprised, but bade him go on, while a strange suspicion seized her. “The fact is,” said Charley, blushing very red and looking hard at the carpet, “I — I lied to you the other day, and — and I am awfully, awfully sorry.” Mabel sat very still for a few moments, too surprised for words, and yet, this was what, she had almost expected to hear. What must she do? She blamed Charley for telling her what he had, and herself for believing it. “Mr. Smith,” she said, “I am very sorry for this, but you have acted nobly in- confessing it. As everything seems to be turning out well, I pardon you freely.” As she finished speaking she rose, signifying that their conversation was ended. Charley took his leave, a very unhappy youth, but glad that he had done right. As he left, Everett Mapleson arrived. He had been unable to solve the mystery of Mable’s strange treatment, and de¬ termined to go and find out what he could from her. They had always been such warm friends. When he requested an explanation, she looked at him and smiled brightly. “Oh, it’s alright Everett!” she cried, “ I never will treat

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C. H. S. SPECTATOR 23 anxious to stop this feeling. But how? Charley disliked foul play, and that was the only means he could think of to ac- complish his purpose. At last an idea came to him, but he hesitated before at¬ tempting’ to put it to any use, for it was not honest, as he fully realized. ‘‘But Mable’s worth it all,” he exclaimed, as he sat staring moodily at his books one evening. To say was to do with Charley. The very next day he set about carrying out his insidious designs. The afternoon found him strolling along with Mable towards a lake, not far distant. Soon they were seated on the mossy bank, and were discussing school affairs with all the enthusiasm of under¬ graduates. “I hear,” said Mable, gazing dreamily out across the clear, blue lake, and noting the beauty of the scene around her, “that Everett Mapleson has written the best oration that the professor has read for a long time.” “Oh, that’s nothing,” returned her companion ironically, “anyone could write well by using the means which he has employed.” Mable started, and looked at him inquiringly, for his tone had insinuated more than what he had said. “What do you mean?” she demanded. “Oh, nothing,only I could write good orations, too, if I consulted certain journals which no one here knows anything about, since they were sent from some other place. They are back numbers, too, so if you and I keep still no one will find it out. I’m sure I never could expose a friend,” he added blandly. “I don’t believe it,” the girl cried. “Everett would never do such a thing.” “But it’s true, nevertheless. I saw the journal myself, and Everett was awfully annoyed over it.” Mable’s heart sank, and soon doubt and suspicion had mas¬ tered trust and confidence. She believed what Charley told her, for why should he tell her what was not true about one whom she firmly believed he liked and esteemed?

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C. H. S. SPECTATOR 25 you so again. I am sorry to have been so unjust to one whom I have known and liked so well all my life.” Then she stopped suddenly, blushing at what she had said. “It’s alright, little girl,” he said softly, and Mable, for the first time in weeks, felt at peace with the world. Three years later Everett removed to a beautiful little coun¬ try town to practice law, and Mable, as Mrs. Mapleson, ac¬ companied him. The Lady of the Lake (With an Apology to Scott.) The summer dawn’s reflected hue Greatly resembles a can of glue. Mildly and soft, the western breeze Was just enough to make her sneeze. And the pleased, lake-like maiden coy Would bring to mind a barefoot boy. The mountain shadows on her breast, A shadow that at thy request In deep uncertainty they lie Like apple, peach or raspberry pie. The water lily to the-light, Humbly begged a little bite. The doe awoke and. to the lawn, In Sunday’s best advanced her fawn. The gray mist left the mountain side More swiftly than chops could be fried. Invisible in flecked sky The moon sent forth a startled ct y, For there the blackbird and the thrush Refused to eat their breakfast mush. In answer cooed the erushat dove This is what might be termed enough.