Eastern High School of Commerce - Eastern Echo Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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there. He was terribly shocked and could not believe it. f'There must be some mistake! I can afford the best doctors. Something can be done - I'm sure of it. I won't believe this! He did have the best physicians, but the verdict was the same. Maybe. they said, that in time she would walk with the aid of a crutch and the scars would, in time, disap- pear. but that was all that could be ex- pected. Elizabeth nearly gave up hope at the news but somehow managed to keep her courage. but. when John apparently began to neglect her, she had nothing more to live for. Days passed into weeks and weeks into months. and she was walking now with a crutch. But that was harder to bear than just lying in bed all day. She became almost a recluse. She had not seen John for over a week and decided to go for a walk down near the estate-perhaps she would see him and talk things over with him. There was a dull pain in her heart as she thought of this, for she realized that she could no longer expect him to marry her. But if he wanted to break off their engagement permanently, at least he should have told her. This uncertainty was killing herfshe had a right to know. It was getting dark but still sufficiently light for her to see two tigures coming down the walk between an avenue of trees, One was a rather beautiful young girl, who was. although unknown to Elizabeth, a cousin of john Morgansg she was clinging eagerly to her escorts arm and smiling up happily into his face. Elizabeth looked at the young man -it was john! Her heart died within her at the sight, but she realized the hopelessness of it all, and with a heart-broken sob she departed as quickly as she could. As she was leaving she thought she heard her name-but it was probably her imagination. She was making for the cliff, her distraught mind was becoming calmer and colder-she was no longer afraid. Nothing mattered any more-john was gone forever. so she had nothing to live for-her family cared noth- ing for her, and she, although she had tried many times to feel differently, returned the feeling. She was a helpless cripple and could EASTERN ECHO do nothing for herself. She would always be a burden to some one. She was almost there now and was walk- ing slowly and with great difficulty. Finally, she stood at the top of the cliff a little be- wildered. She heard her name and looked back. It was John: then it had not been her imagination. Her mind racedghe pitied her. that was it, he was feeling sorry for her. But she did not Want his sympathy: she did not want anyones sympathy. A trembling overtook her whole body, but she shook it off and once more the deadly calm took possession of her. It was all over now. She heard john coming towards her: in desperation she advanced nearer the edge of the cliff. Without warning she could feel the edge of the cliff giving way beneath her feet. and then she felt herself falling. falling. down the side of the cliff only to be suddenly stopped by a few scrub oaks. Lifeless, her once lovely happy self. now free from pain and suffering. lay there, for ever still. john raced along until he came to a part of the cliff which was not so steep, and in his haste half fell down the side. But he finally arrived at the spot where Elizabeths body lay. As he looked upon the once beau- -iful face. now so changed by worry and suf- fering both mental and physical, his mind almost wandered. Half-distracted he picked up her body and somehow managed to carry her back muttering as he went: Elizabeth . . . Elizabeth . . . I'm so sorry. . . . I haven't been ashamed of you because you were crippled l . . not for a long time . . . never in my heart . . . Elizabeth. . . . I still loved you . . . and I never told you. At the far corner of a country churchyard near the old Morgan estate in M . . . , there are two little graves. And there are two small :stones on which are inscribed: Elizabeth Ann Thompson--only daughter of Emily Tucher and Neil Thompson. Born July 18. 1880 Died June 25. 1905 john Andrew Morgan-beloved son of May Dee-gan and Major O. E. Morgan Born Sept. 15, 1875 Died Aug. SO. 1920 Above these is written: In death were they united . Thirty-five

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Robert wanted to implore his uncle once more to return and live with them in L ----. but he had turned the matter over in his mind and had come to the conclusion that it would not be the best thing to do, .Xs he fold himself repeatedly---there certainly was some reason for his refusal. But .lean was more thoughtless. Why wont you come and live with us, lfncle john? , she asked, you surely don't like this lonely place. A pained look crept into John Morgan's eyes. Dont ever ask me that. child. It is sufficient for you to know that I never shall. I love this place: every thing about it has a sweet association, My only wish is that I may die here. That is why I shall never leave it. That was all he said-that was the most he had ever said. Robert motioned jean out of the room with the whispered explanation, I think he wants to be left alone . A few hours later they had made their adieus and were on the train speeding for the city. And a few hours later. the lonely hgure of John Morgan could have been seen walk- ing slowly along the shore which ran beside the sea a short distance from the Morgan estate, He stopped and looked around and saw nothing to his left but water, coldly reaching in, coldly sweeping out: nothing to his right but the cliff and the dunes beyond. Once more he sensed the horrible loneliness of it all, and his head dropped upon his breast, and his hand ran wearily through his hair. He stood thus for many minutes. Sudden- ly the familiar roar of the onrushing waters broke his troubled reverie. The tide! How many times had he heard it surging in, destroying everything in its path. And yet he had, in his perplexed state of mind. entirely forgotten that it ever existed. Would he, this time. be its victim? He turned and started climbing the cliff-the only way outAas if to escape his inevitable fate. He made his way slowly and painfully, his breath com- ing in short gasps for he realized that he must reach safety. A few scrub oaks up the side offered assistance. He clutched them, panting after the severe strain wrought upon his weakening heart and lay still for a moment. He struggled to raise himself, but the torturing pain and his increasingly dif- ficult breathing made this impossible, He Thirty-four realized that his last hour had come. He had just enough consciousness to realize where he wasfand to recall another, whose tragedy had so changed the course of his life. In- audibly his lips framed once again a few broken words: Elizabeth . . . Elizabeth . . . l'm so sorry . . . I havent been ashamed of you because you were crippled . . . not for a long time . . , never in my heart . . . Eliza- beth . . . l still loved you . . . and I never told you. It was a gay evening in june, 1904. There was music in the air and the beautiful spacious estate of John Morgan was alive with colour and laughter. Everyone was happy and especially so were john Morgan and Elizabeth Thompson, for it was the evening before their wedding and it was a huge garden party being given in their honour by the prospective bridegroonrs parents. Unexpectedly a cry arose above the cele- bratingklittle Robert Morgan, johns nephew and just a baby, had somehow managed to get through one of the garden gates and was in the centre of the road. Coming directly towards the spot was a carriage and two racing horses. It was quite evident that the man in the carriage was drunk. for he had no control over the horses, and to Elizabeth's shame and horror she recognized her own father. The baby, Robert. was standing help- lessly looking at the oncoming horses. Eliza- beth's mind was in a state of frenzy-her john's little nephew to be killed perhaps by her own father-and he was drunk---Oh, how could hefon the eve of her wedding too! With tears in her eyes she dashed forward through the gates, and, just as the horses were almost upon Robert, she clasped him in her arms and turned to carry him off - but she was too late-they were upon her- she could feel her strength leaving. and, with all she could muster, she threw the baby to- wards the edge of the road-she remembered no more, For months Elizabeth lay maimed and disfigured in her little room. At first -lohn came regularly but of course she did not know him. and then gradually his visits be- came less frequent, for he could not bear to see the girl who had once been so alive. now a helpless cripple, cut off from everything that had been so much a part of their lives. On the day that the doctor reported that Elizabeth would always be crippled. john was EASTERN ECHO

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Quiet please ' ' Quiet Please read the sign on the door of the glass-enclosed room. .X shabbily-dressed woman p u sh e d her daughter toward the door. Don't be scared. Sally, she said. Sing like you do at home. The announcer was a pleasant man. He took Sally by the hand and told the micro- phone she was Sally Deane, just 10 years oldn, who was going to sing and dance. Sally's ambition was to star in musical comedies. t'Give her a great, big handfl he said. Mrs. Deane sat outside the glass-enclosed room with other anxious parents, next to a sad-eyed young man with a violin case and a painted girl who looked bored and said these amatchoor hours were getting lousy. But Mrs. Deane had no eyes for the young man or the painted girl. Sally had started to sing. Her voice rose ina happy lilt from the glass-enclosed room. Even the painted girl listened and the sad-eyed young man looked less sad. Then Sally danced, the rhythmic patter of her feet tapping out the tempo of the tune, The announcer was promising great things for Sally. The painted girl and the young man with the violin case had gone inside. Sally was being called back. Mrs. Deane smiled hap- pily, recalling the applause of the days when she sang and danced, but only in the chorus. For Sally she had visions of better things. There would be a star's dressing room and orchids and wealth and fame. But, the program was over now. Sally skipped at her mother's side, clasping a precious package in her hand. It was the gift she had won, and she remembered what the announcer had said about her becoming a great star one day. Sally's feet twinkled across a busy street. A horn sounded and tires screeched on dusty pavement: a thud, a rush of feet! Mrs. Thirty-six hy 3l.XDEl.INE Masox, 3C Deane knelt beside the child. Crowds ap- peared from nowhere. A policeman took charge and the clang of an ambulance was heard. ln a long, white corridor paced a shabily- dressed woman, her eyes anxious. A nurse. too brisk and business-like. hurried by, Down the long corridor Mrs. Deane walked. From an elevator they wheeled Sally, her blond prettiness shadowed by Death. Mrs. Deane scanned the faces of the attendants for some sign, but they were all too brisk and business-like. While the mother watched, they moved Sally into one of the rooms. and over the door was the sign, t'Quiet Please . 455159 COMPENSATION With tolling head, and drooping eye, And fixed and 'vacant stare, She sits, of any pitying sigh She dimly is aware. She sits, hands folded patiently, Her frail and wasted frame, Her great eyes which moved listlessly, Same soul forgot to claim. Like windows of a house, her eyes, l.Vo one abiding tlzerej, Are wholly empty of surprise, High hope, or deep despair. I think her soul in jealous fear Of dimming on this earth, Lingers an some relestial sphere In radianre of mirth. .-1 pale, thin wraithg what need has she In this w0rld's work to share? Chained though her mortal self may be- Her soul is lodged elsewhere. DOROTHY SIGBIIJND, Special I EASTERN ECHO