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Page 56 text:
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llllllllllllllllllllIIIIIlllllllIIIIIllllllllllllllllllIIIIIlllllllIllllllllllllllllllill IIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIII III lull mnInIIIIInnnIIIIImlIllIIImnI1IIIIImmllI:nunIIIIImlmllIIIllmuIIIInumIIullllllllIIIIIullllllIIIInlllIIII1llIIlllmIIIIIllllulllllllllllmllllln tlIIIIlllllllllllllllllllllllllIIIIImlllllIIllIIullllIIllllllllllllllllllllllll ll Ill I 1 llll illIIIIIIInulllllllmlllllllllnlllllllll Illllll lull IIIHIIIIIIIII1llIIIIIIllllllIHlllllllIIIIIIlllllIlIIIIIllllllIIIIIIIIllIIIIIIIIHllIIlllIIHllllIIIIIllllllIIIllllllllllllllllllllllll My Favorite Dog Y favorite dog is just a little bit of cloth sewed up over a lot of sawdust and he sits on my desk and watches me study. He has two beautiful glass eyes that have a habit of getting crossed whenever he thinks l am studying too hard. He has a long, skinny neck, and a big head with ears almost to his knees. His ears have a provoking Way of sitting out when I try to learn my French out loud. If my lessons are very hard, he grins at me in his doggish fashion and says more , 3 plainly than Words, Don t you Wish you were me ? At this I lose my temper com- pletely and hurl him into the corner, hut he stands on his head in such 21 grotesque fashion and looks at me so reproachfully that l have to laugh and pick him up. V. C., '24 Just Me 'Tis .rad to reach thi: world zz dunfc, But Jncider far, I wean, To he considered hriyhl al jfrxt, find in thg end found green. S0 lei it nofw he .mid of me, That I fwax horn Il fool, Then I shall disappoint no one By what I do in school. ANNE K. WILLIAMS, 'Z6.
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Page 57 text:
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IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIllllllllIIIIIIIIIIIlllllllllllllllllllll IIIIIIIIIIIIII Illll Il Ill ll I III IIII I I Illll I IIIIIIIIIIlllllllllIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII' 56 T H E T O R C H IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIII Ill I I II I l I I ll IIIIIIIII I I IIIIIIIllllllllllIlIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIllllllllIlIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIllIIIIIIIIIllIlIII The Bedtime Story HE lights were out, and the large room was lighted only by the glow from a Hre which burned on the hearth. Outside, the wind was whistling a ghostly tune, and the rain was descending in torrents. The children gathered closer about the fire, and the youngest climbed up into the lap of her grandfather, who was seated in his favorite armchair close to the blaze. 'fGrandfather, said the little girl, c'we're waiting for you to begin, and you promised to begin with '0nce upon a time, tonightf' Eh? Oh, the bedtime story. Well, what shall it be tonight ? Something new, about Indians and treasure, please, grandfather, said Dickey, who loved adventure. Something about romance, too, put in the eldest girl with a heavy sigh. About Indians, treasure, and romance. Well, well, let,s see. He gazed into the Ere, and the children seeing that his thoughts were far away feared that they would miss their bedtime story tonight. W-:'re waiting, grandfather, dear. About Indians, treasure, and romance, murmured the old man, not heeding the interruption in the least. Having repeated this twice, he sat up, settled the llttle girl more comfortably on his lap, and proceeded: O-nce upon a time, a long, long time ago, 'way back in the mountains of Ver- mont, there lived a beautiful young girl, whose name was Marie Jeanne. Having lived far from the world, her only pleasure was in wandering through her beloved forests beside the streams, and dreaming of a Fairy Prince, who 'would some day come riding down the trail on a milk-white steed and carry her away with him to a vast kingdom, where she would be queen. When she was twenty years old, her father informed her that he wished her to marry a neighbor of theirs, one John Weaver by name, who had asked for her hand in marriage. She was broken-hearted, because she knew, as everyone did, that this man was a coward and a villian, and, besides all this, she hated him. Why had her father asked this of her? She refused again and again, but in her heart she knew that in the end she must yield. She would be forced to obey her parents. There was no one to help her, and her only comforts were the birds and flowers beside the stream and in the forest where she wandered daily, looking, always looking, for the Fairy Prince. Surely this was the time for him to appear. One day while she was sitting on a large moss-covered rock, studying her reflec- tion in the clear mountain stream, a stranger came down the trail. He was riding horseback, and both he and the horse looked worn out as if by much hard travelling. He was a young man, large and handsome, with dark hair and eyes, and skin tanned by the sun. His object seemed to be finding lodgings for the night, and lVIarie Jeanne
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