Commerce High School - Commerce Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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3 £uiltp Conscience “T WONDER why Lucy Barrows always walks away whenever I attempt X to meet her, said a winsome girl to a group of college friends who were standing on the campus of the school. The girls made a pretty picture with the early morning sunshine lighting up their bright faces and showing them the embodiment of happiness. But at the mention of Lucy Barrows a cloud seemed to shadow their joy. The girls were perhaps no better than others, but they had prided themselves on the sociability of their college, and especially of their class. But for months Lucy had baffled all their efforts of friendliness, hence this shadow. “Don't all answer at once, continued the speaker, looking around at the girls. “I don’t know,” replied a tall, slender girl, with a characteristic shrug of the shoulders, “but never mind, Mabel, you are all right. Mabel Griggs was dissatisfied with this answer, but while she wrinkled her brow thoughtfully she did not pursue the topic. And as if to dispel the gloom, one of the girls changed the subject. Soon a bell was heard ringing, and the girls scattered to their respective classes. All apparently forgot the incident of Lucy's marked discourtesy. Lucy Barrows was a bright scholar, but as we have seen not very popular among the girls of the schools. This was partly on account of her selfish habits and jealous traits, and partly the result of Lucy’s own choice. One day, shortly after this discussion, the girls gathered on the campus and dressed Mabel as their snow-queen. They were laughing and shouting and evidently having a good time. Their shouts attracted the attention of Lucy Barrows, who viewed the scene from the window, and their display of love for Mabel redoubled Lucy’s obvious hatred for her. I don’t know what people see so attractive about that girl, Lucy muttered, and deep in her heart she treasured a feeling of resentment against the world. Lucy was really a pretty girl, but at this instant her face was disfigured with hate. “Examination day is coming and perhaps they will change their minds,” said she with a knowing shake of the head, and with a sneering, malignant smile she turned from the window. A week later, groups of girls, with thoughtful faces were seen going towards a large room at the farther end of Brown Hall, where examinations were usually held. “Wish I had studied my lessons,” said one girl in a regretful voice. “I am positive that I shall fail, said another, with a forlorn shake of the head. “If you think fail, you will fail, but if you don’t think so, you won’t fail,” answered our friend Mabel, who was making sunshine everywhere with her bright, cheery smile and hopeful voice. 106

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He thought and thought and did not get any further than when he started. Suddenly he heard somebody playing. He looked around and saw, not a few steps away, a man playing on a violin. When the man finished some pennies dropped from the windows above him. The player picked them up and went some distance further and repeated his action. “I have it. Why can not I do this? I can make a little money and after I have saved up a few dollars I can think of something better to do,” cried Philip. He then attempted to answer his own question by action, and he was rewarded with ten cents, after playing some melodies, among which we can be sure was his father’s favorite piece. “Collar buttons, candles, hair pins, combs.” The crier was a woman carrying a basket heavily loaded with the before mentioned wares. The poor woman was Mrs. Petrowsky, but how changed! Her beautiful hair was entirely white; her eyes had grown deeply sunken. The look of anguish stamped on her features gave full evidence of the miseries through which she had passed during the last five years. Her husband, in a sense, murdered; her only son snatched from her care; her very life made a burden by the oppressors, who had not been content with the suffering they had caused her to endure, but had not even allowed her the trifling privilege of departing in peace from her native land that had long became loath-some to her. The expression in her face, as she walked along, seemed to show that she had hardly any care for her life, but supported herself on her meager earnings only because it was a mechanical instinct. As she walked slowly along, crying out her wares in a sad voice, she suddenly stopped, listened, moved on a few steps, and stopped again, as if an electro-magnet was drawing her to itself, and the circuit alternately was made qnd then broken. What was it she was listening to? The beautiful strains of a violin came smoothly and gracefully through the air and fell lightly upon the ear arranging themselves into a beautiful and passionate melody. It was the favorite piece of Mr. Petrowsky. Then, as if the current had been turned on with a double fold volume of electricity, giving the magnet renewed power, she was drawn into the small court from whence the melody was issuing. She looked up as if to ascertain the cause of the irresistible drawing power and saw before her a handsome boy manipulating his violin. When he finished he looked up, their eyes met, they closely scrutinized each other. A look of recognition passed over their faces, then one of doubt and then again of recognition. “Philip! My son!” “Mother!” HERMAN KAPLAN, 1912. 105

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“All right, Mabel,” came from the throats of all girls, as they entered the examination room, and in a short time they were busily at work. All know what quiet resigns when examination is being held. The clock ticked the minutes off one by one. Once in a while a sigh was heard, for the test was very hard. Many of the girls sat and pondered over this question and that, and finally despaired of ever getting through. Two hours passed, and the girls were still working, some to recall what they really had learned, others trying to remember what they knew must have been given on the subject. Finally some of the weaker scholars, as is usually the case, handed in their papers; all the others followed, until only Mabel and Lucy were left, still at work. “You are my two rivals,” said the teacher in a pleasant way. Mabel was puzzling over the last question, and at last, with a victorious smile and a sigh, she finished the test, handed in her paper, and left the room. Then Lucy raised her head from her paper, and, seeing that the teacher was busy, cautiously threw a slip of paper upon Mabel Griggs' desk. “Still at work, Lucy? asked the teacher. “No, I am through,” answered the girl as with a beating heart, and a guilty blush stealing over her face she handed in her paper and left the room. “I wonder if he saw me,” thought Lucy nervously, as she went off to her room. “Mabel, you’re wanted at the office,” said her roommate, when she entered the room, two days after the examination. “I suppose to tell me that I failed,” answered Mabel, in a care-free way. She left the room happy and cheery, but wondering why she should receive a summons to the office. Generally the office of Hollow Dale College was a bright, cheery room, through whose windows one beheld a lovely scene. The small lake, now frozen, lay in the distance, the trees of the ground were laden with silver icicles and crystals of diamonds, the wide winding path led up from the road to the main building of the school, and beyond this the distant churchspire rose from the nearby town. The tinkle of merry sleighbells was heard at intervals. Inside it was cheery and comfortable and the principal’s broad, bright smile was a welcome to many a homesick girl. But upon this day when Mabel was called to the office, all was dark and dreary. No sleighbells were heard from the distance. No faint rays of winter sunshine crept in through the windows. A cloud hung over the skies, ready to burst into a heavy snow storm. Mabel’s heart sank within her when she opened the door of the office and perceived that in place of a smile of welcome a grave look covered Dr. Thompson’s face. At her entrance the principal, with a stern though sympathetic voice, said: “Miss Griggs, you doubtless know why you were called here this 107