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Page 21 text:
iluat a (Ehnrnlatr Jlut
Margaret M. Bray, ’20
A glorious June sun was casting its bright rays into the room where May-hell Keifer stood, flooded it with radiant light. But all its beauty was lost upon Maybell. Her sight was blurred by tears and her throat felt swollen. In her hand she held a short note written by her father. As she read it again her memory started to drift from one picture of her father, as she knew him. to another and then another. It drifted back to the time when as a little girl she first remembered him as he came up the path from his business, and how her mother used to greet him at the door. How later they three would eat dinner together and then she and her mother would be left alone, her father going to his private room to work on some books he had brought home with him. Thus it had always been.
When her mother died she was 12 years old. From then on life had been lonelier than ever. Her father, stricken by grief over her mother’s death, spent more and more time in his room until at last she saw him only at the evening meal.
One day, upon coming home from school, she found that the house next door which had stood idle for some time was open and showed signs of life. The next day people moved into it. The fact that there was some one living near them seemed to lighten Maybell’s lonely feelings just a little.
The next week a new boy entered her class at school, and some time later she discovered that the boy lived in the house next to her own. As time went on they became friends. The boy’s name was Tim and he lived with his grandfather, Mr. Pine. His parents had died of a fever when he was quite young. He had traveled much with his grandfather and could tell about the things he had seen. Maybell listened with pleasure to the accounts of his travels.
One afternoon she met his grandfather and found him to be a nice old gentleman who had a pleasant smile, and who could tell stories even more interesting than Tim’s. In this way a
friendship sprung up which became stronger as time went on.
When Maybell was 18 she graduated from High School, standing high in her class, but not quite first, for Tim had held that place of honor. Her father had not come to witness the exercises, but had sent her a large bunch of roses. These, with Mr. Pine’s flowers, seemed dearest to her of all the flowers she received that evening. She had felt a pang of pain because her father had not been there, but then he never went anywhere, so why should she expect him to come.
About a month later she was much surprised to hear her father say: “Daughter,” that is what he always called her, “it was your mother’s wish that you should one day go to college, so you had better get ready.” That had ended the affair except that her father had made arrangements for her to enter FairView College, and had taken her there when the term opened.
Life here was very new and strange. If it had not been for the letters she received from Mr. Pine and Tim she would have started for home many times. These letters seemed to reach her at the time when she felt most blue.
As time went on and the strangeness wore off she found this new life not so bad. after all. The girls were nice and so also were the teachers. Because she knew no other way, she studied hard and soon stood first in her class. This position she held throughout her four years.
She heard little of her father except the brief notes which accompanied her check, stating that he was well and very busy. And that he hoped she was well and happy. These notes she used to read sometimes two and three times in the hope that she had overlooked some word of love and the fact that he was lonely without her, but she never found it.
Her holidays and vacation she spent at home and although she saw no more of her father than in former years, she enjoyed these days spent at home. Tim.
Page 20 text:
singer, will soon fill an engagement at the Academy of Music in Philadelphia.”
“At the last meeting of the Board of Education, Elsie Yoder was elected to fill a position as commercial teacher for the ensuing year.”
"Last evening, a political mass meeting was held in the Opera House. John Francella, the Prohibition candidate for burgess, gave a speech. To impress his cause upon his audience, he served refreshments, consisting of water and tooth picks.”
Another notice stated:
"Anne Long has succeeded in her chosen profession, and after serving two years as a Canadian Red Cross nurse, has married a Canadian officer. Her present address is 301 Ontario street, Quebec.”
A startling piece of news was: “John Heffner, while pouring over his books, absorbed knowledge so fast that the friction caused thereby set him on fire. But he was ‘fired’ from the house before any damage was done.”
“Balloons guaranteed never to wear out. Filled with our own hot air. Apply to Flinn, McCormick an d Co." This was surprising, for they never talked much when they were in High School. Probably the “hot air” was furnished by the “Co.”
“Ford planes for sale. Made to run on air, on the ground, or on their ’-ep-utation. H. M. Dague’s Ford Garage, Downingtown, Pa.”
When I left Downingtown, I turned westward. As I was passing over a small town in the western part of the State, I again used my telescope. I could see a foot ball field. Laurence Ford was coaching a team. I wonder where he obtained his athletic ability. He was never a foot ball star when he used to play at the “race track.”
I reached Pittsburg with no more important events to relate. I had not been in the city more than an hour when I met Christine Weis. I expressed my surprise at seeing her, and she said, “Oh yes, we have been living in Pittsburg for five years. At first, Emerson had a position in the steel mills. But he found the atmosphere too strong. Now he has opened a
fish market and has lots of trade.” By the way, Emerson Jr., in the perambulator with her, resembled his father very decidedly.
I also learned from Christine that George Pannebaker pccupied the flat above them. After he graduated, he hastened to Pittsburg, and was married within a year, to a Miss Carr, formerly in our class.
From there, I went to Chicago. It was lunch time when I came to a restaurant, bearing the sign, “Weldin and Glauner, Bean Eatatorium.” From the number of patrons, I surmised that their business enterprise was a successful one.
Next door to the “Bean Eatatorium” was a moving picture house. Posters advertised “The Difficult Decision,” featuring Margaret Powell and Mildred Lamping, “Foxamount” stars.
From Chicago, I went south to St. Louis. There I came upon an old mission. I entered and found everything to be quiet. In one corner, Ethel Washington sat, with a class of children surrounding her. I could readily see that she was doing excellent settlement work.
When I reached the business section of the city, I noticed a crowd of people entering a building. Every one was discussing the famous lecturer they were to hear. The lecturer was Eugene Bowman. His speech was called, “Practice of Good Conduct.”
My flight to San Francisco was a hurried one. On the outskirts of the city, I noticed a large tent. Thinking it was a circus, I descended. I was surprised to see that it was not a circus, but a revival meeting. On a platform was Rev. Lewis Seamon, speaking in loud tones. He was pounding on a table with his fists, in order to make his words more impressive. They claimed him to be a second Billy Sunday.
This incessant pounding awakened me from my slumber, and I spent some time in pondering over my strange dream. I can not tell whether or not what I fancied will be the futures of the members of the Class of 1919. I leave that to the judgment of my readers. Some, I hope, will be; others, I know, could not be true.
Page 22 text:
who was also at college, spent his vacation at home and together they passed many pleasant hours in walking, boating, dancing and other forms of sport.
Just after going back to college to enter upon her Junior year she received a sad little note from Tim, saying that his grandfather had died. Maybell had not even known that he was ill. so the news of his death was a great shock. A little later came another letter, saying that Tim had left college and had enlisted in the army, and was preparing to go overseas. Up to this time Maybell had not given the war, which '.ad been going on for some time, a thought. This was due to the fact that her father had not talked of it and Tim’s letters had said little except to tell her when some one she knew had gone over. Now Tim himself was going and she shivered to think of it.
From time to time she received letters from him. telling her of the life he was leading. These letters were always interesting, but after Tim had sailed for France they became fewer. From the letters she did receive she learned that Tim was rapidly advancing and the last letter had said that he had been made a first lieutenant. Then she had heard nothing for some time. She wrote to him, however, and had sent him a commencement announcement and a ticket. She sent it because she knew it would please and cheer him. As she addressed it she smiled to think how one time, when they had been talking of the time when they would graduate, he had teas-ingly asked her if she wanted a golden crown for the great event, and she had laughingly told him that a chocolate-pot would do, providing it was nice.
She was suddenly aroused from her dream by the fact that it was growing ;lark. Then she remembered the note in ner hand and reread it. It ran: “Daugh-er, very sorry, but I will not be able to :ome for the exercises. I have been detained by business. Do your best. John Keifer.” She sensed a tightening feeling in her throat annd she could hardly keep from crying again.
Mechanically she began to get ready for the evening. Time was flying and "he must get to the study hall in time for the march to the auditorium. Just
as she was about to leave the room a knock summoned her to the door and a maid handed her a large square box marked, “Handle With Care." She did not have time to open it, so she placed it upon her writing table to be opened later.
Upon reaching the study hall she found all but a few of the people there before her. From then on the evening passed like a dream. She gave her address as one in a trance and when a large bunch of flowers was handed to her she took them, expecting to see them disappear at any moment; but these were soon followed by a second and third bunch.
At last the diplomas were given, and as she received hers Maybell realized that her college days were almost over.
After the exercises Maybell spent a few minutes talking to some of hei friends, then she fled to her room. She wanted to be alone and to cry. As she entered the door she remembered the box, and, going over, she started to open it. It was securely done up and filled with excelsior. Wonderingly, she drew forth a beautiful white china cholocate-pot, artistically decorated with dainty pink flowers. This was followed by 12 small cups and saucers to match. Looking inside the chocolate-pot, she found a card with the name, “Tim Pine.” inscribed upon it. She could have been no more amazed to have seen the entire set take wings and fly than she was to see the name of the sender. How and from where had the gift come? A knock came to the door and upon opening it she was told that some one wanted to see her in the office.
Making her way downstairs, she entered the office, and there sat her father and beside him Tim Pine, ready to testify to the reality of it all.
“O Daddy, O Tim,” was all she could say, and then when she had gotten her breath: “Daddy, how did you get here, and where did you come from Tim?”
“One question at a time, please,” said her father. “To begin with, after I had sent you word that I could not get here I found that my business engagement would not take as long as I had expected. and that I would have time to
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