Commerce High School - Commerce Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

Page 102 text:

During the day, the cook and housemaid heard Tip and Marshal making their plans, but the only part of the conversation they could hear plainly was, “Eleven o’clock tonight in the graveyard.” Womanlike, their curiosity was aroused, and when Marshal went away they begged Tip to let them into the secret. But he, being a good judge of human nature, knew that if he told them all they would probably spoil the fun, so he told them not to say anything to the butler or Nolan, but at eleven o’clock that night to steal softly down to the lower end of the garden and they would see for themselves. Cautioning them again not to open their mouths, he left them. Marshall nervously watched the clock, and at least fifteen minutes ahead of the appointed hour he was on hand. With the greatest secrecy he climbed the old apple tree with the chains concealed on his person. As the clock was strinking eleven Tip and Andy walked into the graveyard. Nolan and the others had previously stationed themselves outside the gate so as to be in readiness to carry out their part of the scheme. As they neared the spot, Tip said, “Andy, how much do you think will there be in the pot?” “Whist, you spalpeen; there’ll be enough to make us rich men for the rest of our lives. We’ll not let anyone know where it kim from, but there’s one thing certain, when we git it you kin marry any farmer’s daughter in the parish.” They now arrived at the old thorn bush, and Andy, taking off his coat, hurriedly began to dig. In the meantime the two girls had stolen out of the house, down to the end of the garden. The night being dark and windyj they succeeded in reaching the garden wall under the apple tree unknown to Marshall. A mysterious silence reigned, which was broken only by the sound of the picks and spades as they struck the hard, brown earth. Tip and Andy had been digging for about fifteen minutes, carefully looking over each spadeful of earth. They had several feet of earth thrown up and had not spoken a word. Suddenly a most unearthly yell was heard, followed by a vigorous rattling of chains.. Tip dropped his spade and ran like a lamp-lighter. The girls, not knowing there was anybody in the tree, screamed frantically, and one of them fell in a dead faint. Marshal, not aware of the presence of the girls, and taking the flutter of their white gowns for ghosts, was so frightened that he fell out of the tree breaking his collar bone in the fall. Nolan and the others, hearing the commotion, hastened around to see what was the matter. When they saw how things stood they were as badly frightened as the others. They helped Marshal and the girls to the house, then they returned, as they said, to calm the fears of old Andy. They found the old cobbler coolly digging away. When they climbed the wall and gave him the laugh he slunk home, as mad as the proverbial hatter. When the news spread about the village, poor Andy felt so bad about it 100

Page 101 text:

talking about Andy’s story of the pots of gold, Tip suddenly exclaimed, “Let s play a joke on the ould man, boys.” “A fine scheme, Tip,” answered Marshall, “what shall it be? “Leave it to me, boys, and I’ll fix one up,” suggested Tip. “Very well, Tip,” they laughingly assented. By this time they had reached Glen Carrig House, and as it was very late, they retired for the night. A few days later, when Tip went down to the village for the mail, he called on the old cobbler. “Andy,” said he, “I had a quare drame last night. “And what might the drame be about?” asked Andy. “Well, I drimt that there was a pot of goold berrid at the foot of the ould whitethorn bush above in the graveyard, under the master’s garden wall,” whispered Tip. “Arrah musha, Tip, do you tell me so!” “It’s as thrue as I’m standin’ here, Andy.” Well,” said Andy, you’ve got to drame it thrice before it’ll come thrue. But for the love of heaven don’t mention it to man or mortial.” “All right,” said Tip, as he was going out of the door. A few days later Tip called again. “Be gob. Andy, I drimt it agin last night.” “You’re in luck, me man,” replied Andy, “but as I tould you before, hold your whist until we see will it come to you agin.” Tip didn’t show up again for ten days. One morning early he entered Andy’s cot all excitement. “I had her agin last night, Andy.” “You don’t say so. Tip,” responded Andy, his eyes nearly jumping out of their sockets. “Yis, Andy, but this time I drimt after I had dug down to the pot a horrible creature with two heads an’ about eight foot tall kim roaring and shaking a lot of chains that was fastened to him and fairly frightened the very soul out of me.” Andy jumped up, and seizing Tip’s hand, said, “Me boy, our fortune’s made, but, as I tould you before, don’t brathe it to anyone. Tomorrow night, please God, we’ll git that pot of goold if the divil himself kirns howlin’ around with all the chains in the country fastened to him. Meet me tomorrow night at the graveyard, about eleven o’clock and bring along a good sharp pick and a strong spade.” In the meantime, Andy arranged with Marshal and Nolan that Marshal was to take some chains up into an old apple tree that hung over the garden wall near the old whitethorn bush. When Tip and the cobbler were well along with the digging, he was to yell and rattle the chains. Tip was to drop his spade and run for his life, while Nolan and two or three others were to be at the graveyard gate to yell when the cobbler came running out and give him a double scare. 99

Page 103 text:

that he did not go outside of his house for a week. It was fully six months before the boys summoned courage enough to pay Andy a visit. But as time wore on Andy came to look at the affair in a more cheerful light. But ever after, if the matter was mentioned, Andy would say, “Luck comes to a man’s door only once in his life, and that omathaun (an Irish expression for a foolish, simple fellow”) referring to Tip, “has spoiled his own luck for the rest of his days. Begorrah, but for his foolish actions he would be a rich man today.” THOMAS V. MURPHY, 1912. 9 Hast 3Hori IS it a spell which settles upon us in the last few months of our schooldays? Is it a charm working its magic and bringing to us thoughts which never intruded themselves before? The time is fast approaching when we must leave the building which we have learned to love, the schoolmates whom we respect and cherish, and last but not least, the teachers who have always been our true friends. All these we leave—the sweet companionships are severed and our faces are turned toward the cold, uncompromising world which has received scarce any notice from us heretofore. How many of us feel regret at parting? When we, at last, leave this building which seems a sort of guardian over us, we will remember that our happiest days are behind us, never to be recalled. We will remember the helpful words of the teachers, which fell on unheeding ears when they were spoken. We will hear the laughter ringing through the halls, and remember that it came from happy, carefree boys and girls. We will, perhaps, remember the neglected tasks with regret and wish we had spent just a little more time on certain ones, and we will be glad to think of the well-learned lessons. The world will demand a great deal of us and we must be ready to fill our place. Neglected lessons in school lead to neglected instructions and orders in the business world, so, Seniors, to you who have worked faithfully in the school-room, continue to do so in the office, or wherever you find yourself in after-life, and to you who have not put your best into everything take a fresh start and make good” in the world’s work. May we, as Seniors of the Class of 1911, leave the High School of Commerce with respect and esteem for the teachers and Principal, with kind thoughts for our schoolmates; and with broad minds and determined hearts, make our way in the busy world, ever keeping a place in our memories for reminiscences of the happy, happy schooldays. FLORA PUTNAM, 1911. 101