Commerce High School - Commerce Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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atonement CHARLES DE VINE was a happy lad as he entered the town store, for he expected a letter which would set a time for a visit at his cousin Tom’s heme. It was, therefore, with a cheerful voice that he asked the storekeeper whether there was any mail for him. “Yes, my boy, there is,” said the old postmaster as he handed over a small envelope. As Charles was leaving the store the man called after him. “How’s the old miser. I hear that he is not well?” “If you refer to my grandfather, he is not as well as I wish he were. But I can’t understand why you should refer to him as a miser, for he hasn’t much money and is only a little careful of what he has.” With these words Charles left the store, but alas for his happy mood. As he walked homeward Charles opened the letter and found that he was to start the next morning for his cousin’s home, but somehow he forgot to rejoice. The next day he stood in the doorway ready for the trip. “Good-bye, mother; wish you were going too.” “Charles, the train is not due for two hours. What’s your hurry?” “I’ve got to see grandfather, you know he’ll miss my visits unless he knows why I don’t come. Good-bye.” And Charles hurried away. A few minutes later Charles’ voice gladdened his grandfather’s ears, but noticing the old man’s look, Charles asked concerning his grandfather’s health. “Well, my boy,” the old man replied, “I do not feel very well, but I hope to be better by the time you come back.” “I could stay at home and help you, grandfather,” generously offered the boy. “No, not for a minute,’’ decidedly answered the man. “I would not spoil your pleasant visit to your cousin’s.” As Charles proceeded to the station he thought that surely his grandfather was no miser when he refused his help. But the train was now approaching and these thoughts left Charles’ mind. The week soon passed, however, and it was not long before Charles was again trudging along the road to his grandfather’s house. As he opened the door he gazed upon a sight that long lived in his memory. There lay his grandfather on the rickety bed not able to move. The stunned expression on his grandfather’s face, the look in his eyes always remained in the boy’s mind. Going over to the bedside he knelt down and looking into his grandfather’s face said: “If I only had stayed!” S9

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we were anxious to find out whether the high winds had carried away all our belongings or only part of them, for it often happens that a ranchman returns after a storm to sec his house turned over on one side, the bams and sheds in various artistic poses, and his cattle in a general state of stampede. As we rode alcng our horses had to literally plough their way through sand, due to the action of the wind, which lay banked like drifted snow. About half way home we found a neighbor’s barn-roof lying flat on the ground. The “neighbor” lived fifty miles away, but that is not considered much of a distance in the West. “We will doubtless find cattle near here,” Sam commented. Sure enough, upon our arrival home we found a large herd of cattle browsing around our barn-doors. They bore the brand of Jose Secordo, a surly and somewhat quarrelsome Spaniard who had recently taken a ranch near ours. He had never been neighborly and had ignored all friendly advances on our part, so we had let him entirely alone. However, we were in honor bound to see that his cattle were safely returned to him. Accordingly, Sam and I returned them the next day. The Spaniard’s hostility vanished under what he termed an act of “kindness so grande,” and his “graciosas” (meaning thank you) carried a real waimth with them. When we left, it was with the understanding of exchanging visits with him, and a kindlier and more neighborly feeling existed between us. “It’s surely an ill wind that does not blow some one some good, isn’t it?” remarked Sam. E had a dear friend who has gone from among us. Joe’s what we called him before his demise. Much had he suffered before he departed. Now he is gone before in spite of our efforts to save him. We pulled all Joe’s teeth; Joe “bit the dust.” When confined to his bed, Joe escaped by the window and “went up the spout.” Sunbaths were useless; they “let daylight through Joe.” Mineral springs both hot and cold baths and gallons to drink when tried, all combined and sent Joe to “Davey Jone’s Locker.” We cut off Joe’s leg; Joe “kicked the bucket.” Fed him on dainties, regaled him on frogslegs; Joe promptly “croaked.” We gave him emetics; Joe “threw up the sponge.” Now in despair we prescribed whiskey for Joe; Joe got full of spirits and “gave up the ghost.” FLORENCE M. KRAUS, 1912. 9h (Dtifitinatc iflartpr 88 THOMAS PHILLIPS, 1910.

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Charles saw that his grandfather was going to say something, and drawing closer he heard: “My boy, I am about to die.” At these words Charles shuddered but said nothing. “When I die,” continued the man, “look in the Indian---” If he was going to say more he never said it icr convulsions seized him and he tossed and rolled and coughed that nerve racking cough that sent the chills over the body. Charles could stand no longer the cries of anguish that pierced his heart and he ran from the house in search of some one. Charles returned with the doctor but he was of no use, for th« old man had died in the boy’s absence. After the funeral Charles returned to his grandfather’s house and for the first time thought of the Indian bust. Taking the bust off the stand and unscrewing the head, as long ago his grandfather had shown him how to do, he found inside an envelope addressed to himself. Tearing it open he read the following note that was enclosed: “Dear Charles: “Many times have I longed to tell you, you who have been so faithful to me, that the people had a right to think me a miser. For in my younger days I caused a sorrow due to a miserly act. Hoarding my money, I refused aid to a poor family and death claimed one member. Since you came to me many times have I longed to tell you that I have tried to atone to my Maker by giving to others secretly. And now to prove that I am sincere and to complete my atonement I ask, as a dying man’s request, that you do not tell anyone the contents of this note, so that I may go to my grave with the reputation of being a miser. As you have helped me in other things help me in this, my atonement. “Your repentant. “Grandfather dc Vine.” JOHN TOBIN, 1911. Hurts THIS, from the pen of the French author. Max O’Rell, is recommended as of value to every graduate student at Commerce High. Luck means rising at six o’clock in the morning, living on a dollar a day if you earn two, minding your own business and not meddling with other people’s. Luck means appointments you have never failed to keep; the trains you have never failed to catch. Luck means trusting in God and your own resources. 90