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

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“Slie will live,” lie said fervently to the nurse near by, and softly left the room. It was only a week till Christmas and once more the family were living in the fifth story rooms of the tenement house. The mother sat alone by the fire, an empty purse in her hand, a dollar bill in her lap. “Only one dollar left for presents for five children,” she said aloud, ‘ ‘ and my dear babies who have been so good and who are expecting Santa to bring them their reward! How can I bear to see their innocent expectations disappointed? How can I explain to them?” The door had opened softly, unnoticed by her, and the doctor said gently, “Give the dollar to some poor orphan child and yourself and your children to me to keep always—the answer you will find in yourself then complete.” “I will,” she said, ‘‘ my children love you dearly and you shall be their Christmas present.” Z. M. H„ ’14. HERIDAN was a little Italian boy. As a baby he was a very handsome little child. He had large blue eyes, rosy cheeks and little fat kicking legs. As he grew older he played with the rest of the Italian boys that lived around the depot. He was a happy fellow and as he grew to be a young man he was liked by everybody. Six days he worked with men as a section hand and on Sundays he talked and played Italian games with the rest of the men. About this time two great things happened to Sheridan, namely, he was promoted to section boss on the railroad and he became deeply captivated by the charms of the fair Marguerita, the hotel keeper’s daughter. Marguerita was the pride of the little Italian settlement. Those bright dancing eyes, pearly white teeth, and blushing cheeks had played havoc with other hearts. But to all aspiring youths she had turned a cold shoulder until she met young Sheridan.

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24 THE SPECTATOR “You won’t take my advice then, Alice!” asked the Doctor. “You won’t give up this work and come to me? Tell me now 1 for I want to help you.” “No, I cannot—but I appreciate all your help and kindness —I will not forget,” she said—and thus the Doctor left. ‘ ‘ Oh Mother, he went away without his apple, and it was so nice.” ‘ ‘ He will come again soon, and then you can give it to him, dear,” she said aloud, but to herself she was saying, “Only too soon, I fear, but I must—I must complete this work; then I will rest, as he advised.” The next day came bright and clear, but the tired mother lay quiet. Gerald, looking in, was alarmed as he leaned over her and asked what to do. “Tell Dr. Fisher 1 want him quickly,” she said feebly and tried to raise her head only to drop wearily back with a sigh. “Thank God, the sketches are finished,” she breathed. “My poor babies, will he take them? But what a sacrifice! Oh God, have mercy upon me and let me live!” Weeks passed, still she lay hopelessly ill; the children were taken to the Doctor’s home, and tended by his mother. The Doctor and nurse fought many a hard fight, but it seemed her strength was gone. “It can’t be, I will save her,” the doctor murmured as he paced up and down the room, after seeing the children safely tucked away in bed. “My poor Alice, why wouldn’t she let me help her? I might have prevented her illness, had she let me save her this racking nerve-strain. ’ ’ “Telephone call, sir,” announced the servant, and the Doctor hurried to the phone. “Hello,” he said, and listened intently to the voice at the other end of the wire. “Hello, Doctor, the patient has had a decided change, and I can’t tell as yet whether she will rally or not. Will you come quickly? You may be needed. ” “Yes, Yes,” answered the doctor, “I’ll come at once,” and, hanging up the receiver, he hurried away. Alice lay quietly sleeping. She was pale and thin and to the anxious eyes of the doctor she looked like a great soul at rest, as he stood by her bedside. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked up at him, at first wonderingly, like a little child, then smiling and whispering the one word, “Doctor,” she closed her eyes.

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26 THE SPECTATOR To the whole colony they were confessed sweethearts and a happy young man was Sheridan when, coming home in the cool of the evening, after a hard day’s work he would see her bright red kerchief come bobbing up the track, to meet him. He would kiss her ardently on the lips and the young couple would walk home talking in happy anticipation of the time when he would have saved up enough to buy them a little home. Six years passed and now there was a little cottage; further¬ more it was inhabited by three, for now there was a little Marguerita also. Indeed it was a happy family. Monday morning Sheridan went to work as usual with some anxiety, for the little one was not feeling well. He had been working for about an hour when a speck was seen in the distance on the railroad. All regarded this curiously . It was not time for the track walker to come on his tricycle. But it was he just the same. When he came within speaking distance he cried, “Sheridan! Sheridan! Your child,—the little Marguerita—she is very sick—your wife, she sent me.” His mind grasped one fact—a doctor. He must get a doctor at once. The nearest doctor was at the little town of B.—two miles up the railroad. He jumped on the railroad tricycle and started up the track. The men divined his intentions and tried to stop him. The train would come up the track towards B. in five minutes and he would be run over. But he was desperate and nothing could stop him. The road to B. was through deep cuts and over steep precipices. Soon he heard a faint whistle behind him; he redoubled his efforts and fairly flew along the track. His arms ached and his head swam, but it was a ride for the lives of two now, and he worked with the might born of desperation. He was rounding the last curve now; the engine was close upon him but on account of the winding way, the engineer was unaware of the fact. He threw his last ounce of strength on the handle and fairly flew down the long grade to the depot. Just then the long train rounded a curve and came thundering by just as he jumped for his life. The tricycle was ruined, but Sheridan stopped not. He ran to the doctor’s house, and soon had him speeding toward the settlement. The child was saved. M. H. ’17.