Eastern High School - Echo Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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THE EASTERN ECHO ll Virginia hastily scanned the note. It was from Charles. lVlr. Oliver had been to see him and had forbidden his coming to the house. There was to be no communication as it could only bring grief and sorrow to all concerned. l-ler father was then on his way to town. Con- sequently there was the probability that the servants had not yet received instructions con- cerning the delivery of his letters, so this might reach her safely. After tonight the grounds would probably be guarded. Would she meet him this evening under the big elm by the gate for their last good-bye? Upon finishing the letter Virginia arose. 'So this was the course her father was taking? Well, she would meet Charles whether or no. Virginia knew her father too well to think that she could leave the house upon some petty ex- cuse. Suddenly she thought of a way out of her difficulties and she determined to attempt it. True courage and daring were needed to fulfill her plan, but these had always consti- tuted a large part of her character, they would not fail her now. Dick was away-she was almost the same height as he. Yes-she would attempt it, anything for Charles. The moon shone brightly on the delicate green of the grass and leaves. A warm spring breeze gently stirred them making a soft rust- ling sound. The stately mansion stood like a sentinel on the crest of the knoll around which spread some sixty acres that constituted the Oliver estate. Behind one of the massive col- umns of the veranda stood Robert Oliver with a rifle in his hand and a set look on his face. He constantly scanned the grounds from the house to the gate and once started perceptibly but leaned back as if he had ben deceived. Suddenly he became alert, and, his muscles grew taut. l'le crept down the steps and glided into the shadow of a bush. What was it he saw? Ah, there it was. The figure of a man in the shadow of an elm tree. Bang! the shot rang out in the death-like quietness with such a startling effect that even the trees seemed to quiver. He quickly ran to the crumpled figure on the mossy turf beneath the unsuspecting elm muttering to himself all the while: Didn't mean to shoot so highg just wanted to show him my word was law. l-le knelt beside the life- less form and, grasping it by the shoulders, turned it over. Emitting a cry of horror he fell back, Robert Oliver had looked into the face of his daughter, Virginia. Several days later a solemn procession wend ed its way in and out among the trees until' it came to a halt under an elm tree. Here was laid to rest the body of Virginia Oliver, her soul at peace. Her father, a broken man, disappeared shortly after leaving his son instructions to sell the estate. r For many years Robert Oliver roamed in foreign countries. Repentance and remorse filled his heart, his mind was never at rest, un- lil at last a minister of God succeeded in bring- ing comfort to his sorrow-torn soul. l-lis return to America was inevitable. lm- mediately on arriving in Baltimore he turned his weary careworn face toward the old home, around which a city had now sprung up. At last he reached his destination. A look of horror crept into his eyes but this was quick- ly blotted out by reverence. His home, his es- tate, was now the last resting place of many mortals gone into the world beyond. An old white-haired man bared his head and prayed that he, too, might someday lie be- neath the elm. It all came back to me so clearly. The sun- light sifted through the leaves as l followed the path. My steps resounded on the stones and l remember now that l unconsciously walked on tip-toe as if afraid to disturb the peaceful slumberers. l came to the other side of the Oliver lot where a stately elm, very old, spread its protecting arms above two white headstones, side by side. Q JUNIORS J U olly, athletic, and studious, indeed, ndaunted by fearg Virtue's our creed. N ever complaining, we're always gaining l n wisdom, intelligence, and all else remaining. O rganized well under Miss Dancly's lead R eacly to obey and each word of hers he-eclg S o, all we Juniors strive and succeed. Fannye Berenholtz, ' 2 4.

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I0 THE EASTERN ECHO The Love Story of Virginia Oliver First Prize Helen Nichols '26 'Nt 9 3 I-IE sun shone radiantly on that Easter Day when I walked through the ivy-covered gates: of Green- mount Cemetery. I had intended to visit a certain sun-lit spot, where before, a friend of my childhood had been laid to rest. As I wandered along, musing, glancing from side to side at the in- scriptions, my attention was arrested by a tall marble shaft glimmering in the bright sun. On one side was the single word: O'liver. At once there flashed through my mind they mem.- ory of a day when l was looking through an old trunk in search of family treasures. I had picked up a piece of foolscap paper cov- ered with dainty, regular handwriting. It was a composition which had been written by my dear great Aunt lane. This is what l read- it comes back to me almost word for word: The sun resembled a huge red ball, as it slowly dropped behind the crest of the hill upon which stood the Oliver Mansion. The Very earth seemed to reflect the brilliant hues when the bright shades of lavender, orange, blue, and colors which no human could de- scribe, spread over and beyond the space where the sun had only a minute ago hung like a ball of fire. The mansion was a three-story structure of gray stone, and was almost completely covered by ivy. A wide veranda with white marble columns stretched partly across the front of the house and the huge oak door stood open in the hospitable Maryland way. The grounds were terraced on all sides with an: occasional fountain or bench here and there. The usual delightful garden was missing as were the daintily artistic touches of a woman. Although calm and quiet reigned without and the whole world seemed at peace, a strange conversation might have been heard within the walls of the mansion. One that seemed decidedly out of place. Remember, said Mr. Robert Oliver, that I positively forbid your having anything to do with that Charles Carter. ln reply, Virginia turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. It was plain to see that lVIr. Oliver was thor- oughly enraged. l-lis face was white and drawn, as he paced the floor of his study. This QRS J gb f f A, Im: -,.J. . f .. X. is-'ff a few days study was a handsome room. It was large, had a high ceiling, paneilled walls on which were hung beautiful hunting scenes in oilg mas- sive oak furniture and in addition to these at- tractions, there was a cheerful fire blazing on the hearth. But none of these things did Rob- ert Oliver see. l-le was deep in thought and if his looks betrayed his thoughts they were not pleasant ones. Finally the plan apparently formulated itself satisfactorily and he left the room as if bent on some mission of great im- portance. Virginia had gone immediately to her room and there she sat, bright spots of anger burn- ing on each cheek. She was not one wont to give way to a tempest of tears, but instead, thought things over and laid her plans care- fully. As she sat in a chair by the window, with her chin resting on the palm of her hand, she gazed out with unseeing eyes and let her mind wander to things of the past. She con- sidered things one by one beginning as far back as she could remember. First, the terrible shock and grief at the death of her mother. l-ler mother was the only one she had loved in all the world and somehow she blamed her death upon her father. Then followed a blighted girlhood, during which she was al- lowed to run wild and obeyed no wish save her own. Mr. Oliver had always been too ab- sorbed in Richard, her brother. Now she was eighteeng moreover, Charles has come into her life., Why, why, was the incessant question which rang through her brain, was her father so bitterly opposed to him? l-Ieretofore, he had left everything to her own judgment and now the one thing which every woman should decide, the man of her choice, he opposed. She remembered her mother once saying, when speaking to a friend, that every woman must decide that question herself, no one but she, alone, knew the true feelings of her heart. But Virginia had forgotten the key note of her moth- er's statement, which was this one must be wise enough and old enough to know one's own mind, before deciding so important a question. l-ler father had even threatened to forbid Charles to enter the grounds. Surely her father-here Virginia's reverie was inter- rupted by a light tap on the door and Jane en- tered, bearing a letter.

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I2 THE EASTERN ECHO Dawn Second Prize Camilla Boone '26 C . l Ain , mm by . H I - l all fl. llllllwl l . ll Elnlmvillh l 1 In illlilirlf irmiiiigfii ,Z Q pl z. U. ta 67': 'f-.a1 -i-.?- I O'W long before dinner, Mrs. Fus- selbore, inquired pretty Alice Lane. About an hour, was they reply. W 'M ' Such a long time-you people on this island always delay in everything you do! I wish l had never come to this primitive place, but Mother thinks it's restful, so she had to comeg but l don't see why she had to drag me along! There's nothing to do but watch the sunsets and the fog. Oh, it's awful! Following this tirade, Alice whirled out of the room, sniffing disgustedly the salt aroma which arose from Captain Fusselbore's oil skins, thrown over the porch railing, ,leaving poor Mrs. Fusselbore gazing after her with a very troubled countenance. Mrs. Fusselbore kept a boarding house dur- ing the summer months, on Swans Island and, among her many boarders were Mrs. Benjamin Lane and her daughter, Alice. Alice Lane was an unusually lovely looking girl. She had gorgeous red hair which she gath- ered in a knot at the back of her neck, beau- tiful blue eyes, and a clear, transparent com- plexion. She had made her debut about two years previous to this time and, during those few months of continuous gaiety, her whole outlook on life had completely changedg for instance, in her mind, a man who did not make over ten thousand a year, was not worth while and, if he did not own a car or dress extrava- gantly, he was not worth looking at twice, so you see, what an entirely mistaken idea she had. Mrs. Lane came every summer to Swans lsland and boarded at Mrs. l7usselbore's ls- land Rest Cottage. It rested her shattered ne1rves, as she expressed it and gave her new strength. One' night, after dinner, while Alice and her mother sat reading before a roaring fire of driftwood, and the wind was whistling through the chimney pots, Captain Fusselbore entered. l-le was a splendid specimen of manhood, and with his great broad shoulders and deep chest, he reminded Mrs. Lane immediately of an old Viking. 'Tm going for the mail now, so if you want me to I'1l get yours, he said. No, thank you, Captain Fusselbore, I couldn't think of such a thing, said Alice coldly. It wouldn't be any trouble, Miss Alice, said the good-hearted Captain. No, thank you, l will go down myself and get it, Alice repeated. All right, but really, it woulcln't be any trouble, he said, leaving the room. Alice, said Mrs. Lane in a surprised tone, why didn't you let the Captain get our mail? You see, Mother, l'm expecting a check any day for that story I wrote, and one never knows when one may trust these uncouth peo- ple. They had been reading for some little time when the hall door opened and the wind blew in Captain Fusselbore. Some night, this, Geneva, he was heard to say, the worst nor'east:er we've had in ten years. Bother, muttered Alice, can't he keep still! Back in the kitchen, Mrs. Fusselbore was soon busily dosing her spouse with boneset tea and endearments. Ive just finished baking some lovely sugar cookies, so l'm going to give you some because you've been out in such a storm, she an-