Cumnock School - Chronicle Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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'LITERATUVR E the others, for her pleasure in her own achievements was so wonderful that the withdrawal of the others had been unnoticed by her. Suddenly she thought that Miss Bates might not like them! jessica would have had more ribbon or maybe less paper. Well she had tried. The baskets were ready. ... .U J. J. J. J. When the three o'clock bell had sounded. Sophie's heart hammered with excitement. There was to be a meeting of all of the girls. A notice on the bulletin board announced that Miss Bates would meet all of the girls right after three o'clock in the sitting room. Gathering her' books, Sophie left the study hall and walked slowly towards the girls' dormitory. l-ler baskets- could it be that something about them had displeased Miss Bates? She would soon know. When Sophie entered the room, she could tell by the number present that she was late. She sat down in a vacant chair near the window. Clearing her throat, Miss Bates addressed the group of girls: Girls the baskets have been called for and taken away. l am very sor- ry that some of you have taken the attitude which you have about these bas- ketsg l feel a lack of cooperation on your part. One person has had to do almost all of the work. lt was unfair of you to leave the whole thing to Sophie. Suddenly Sophie knew she had been right. There was something wrong with the baskets. Oh, why had she tried to handle this task? These thoughts of Sophie's were broken into by Miss Bates' voice addressing her: Sophie, l want to commend you for your work. The baskets are lovely. ln fact, they are the finest contribution Fair View School has ever made. But that is where I want to make a correction in your minds, girls. lt's not Fair View School's contribution to the poor, but Sophie's. You have done this excellently, Sophie, and I want to thank you. l certainly do appreciate your effortsf, Having delivered her message, part of which Sophie didn't understand- that about the other girls. Miss Bates smiled at Sophie, glanced coldly at the other girls, and left the room. Not having the courage to face Sophie, feeling horribly ashamed of their prank, the girls quietly slipped from the room. jessica remained. What she 90

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L I T E R A T U R E Oh, yes, oh, I would, I-I . . . Tears were fast assembling, ready to charge, fording their way until the very holding them back caused a tight contracted feeling in her throat. I am very glad you will be our chairman, Sophie. With this statement jessica led her little flock back to the sitting room. Closing the door like a person in a daze, Sophie walked to the bed and sat down. All inside she was beating with joy. In her whole miserable life she had never been at the head of anything .... They liked her, they must like herl Didn't they want her to be their chairman? Had she at last found something to fit into rather than to cling desperately to the outside, always with that terrorized feeling that at any moment she might be forced to let loose her grip and fall far down into the depths of loneliness. All the awful lonely years of her life marched through her mind, gloating tyrants, that had held her their prisoner for so long. But now she was free. Was she to be happy as other people were? The almost forgotten tears, feeling their neglect, stormed over the walls, splashing dangerously into Sophie's lap. These tears sparkled, for they were the liquid expression of her joy. Sophie's new responsibility stimulated her into an active being. She no longer dreaded her long days. The hours rushed, carrying with them many tasks, Sophie didn't realize that so many things could be accomplished in one day. From the top floor to the basement, madly she dashed all day from morning until night. From the first the girls refused to cooperate with her, but from an un- known source there sprang up in Sophie a self-assurance which amazed her as well as the girls. She had sat down that night after election and formed her plan. At the time she scarcely realized what she was doing, but she had mastered hrself and carried out her plans. Now the baskets were finished. A few minutes before they were to be called for, Sophie went into the back room of the office, where her crisp baskets stood. She inspected each one separately. When she had looked at and fondled the last basket, she had a feeling of achievement which at first shocked her. Half talking aloud to her- self she straightened it all out. She had without any assistance from the girls carried out her assignment perfectly. Sophie had not noticed the neglect of 89

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L I T E R A T U R E 4' was about to do, she felt was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Walking over beside Sophie's chair, she almost whispered: I feel terribly wretched, Sophie. I haven't been very fair. You see all the time I have been praying you would botch the whole business. I-I am Sorry. I wouIdn't blame you in the least if you never forgave us for the nasty way we've acted, but I am going to ask anyway, if you will forgive us. You did do wonderfully, Sophie. You know, I was just wondering if maybe during vacation you might care to come up to my home with me. We have a grand time up there with sleighs and everything. Now, of course, you think it over. I'd love to have you if you would care about it. jessica put her hand on Sophie's arm. She rested it there for a minute, then she smiled and left the room. Sophie did not even stop to analyze her feelings. She couldn't. They were too jumbled. Was it a dream, or had jessica really and truly asked her to spend Christmas with her? She felt a new happiness. This whole wonder- ful joy must be her Christmas present from God! PORCELAIN AND SILVER james Ray The lad walked down the silver lane, tiptoeing on the crystal squares. He looked upon a pool and beheld his silver figure mirrored there, The air was still, save for a rustling of the ivory leaves, and the great ruby tulips stood tall and stately, tossing in the breeze. The turf was emerald that he trod upon, and every footstep worked its way into its curving greens to languish there, too soon forgotten, too soon waylaid. He sang, and his voice reechoed from the ebony trunks of ivory shades, he cried, and the crystal boughs of the hyacinth tree tinkled softly, ever quavering. He sat beside a cold little stream running upon porphyry rocks, and there he watched her making dia- monds, sparkling, tremulous, glittering, hesitant. While there he dreamed aloud of love . . . Alas, he said, what hope have I, a pale poor shimmering silver boy, to make my love adore me? How common are my silver arms, my silver lips, my silver hair! And he sang of his passion sadly in a silver voice which was clearer than the little stream making diamonds. After a little the brook looked at him, and seeing his eyes so filled with tears that they re- 91