Emmerich Manual High School - Ivian Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

Page 8 text:

And he who was to die did all this. Then they thrust out his eyes with hot irons. They cut off his ears. And his tongue they pulled out, lest he should murmur in his ingratitude. At noon he died quickly by fire. So the scribe died and was forgotten. And after a little the king died. And they whom he had feared in life swept down on his people, as the wind on dry leaves in autumn. The city crumbled and the sands of the desert covered it. And after a while even its memory went from the hearts of men. Bu down in the rubbish lay the brick, with the impress of the scribe still upon it. A man with iron-gray hair, a pair of bright eyes, and intellectual face, was attracted by the noise of the crowd. He entered the place. A genuine brick of Babylon ! Going, going, — for five dollars ! Ten dollars ! quickly bid the stranger. Going, going, sold to the gentleman for ten dollars. A genuine brick of Babylon ! That night the professor examined his purchase. A treasure, he said. Three thousand years old if a day. And he bent nearer to read the inscription. The crime and sentence of the scribe of the great king. In his eagerness the Professor ' s hands trembled. The brick fell to the floor and was shattered. Something rolled under the table. He groped for it. It was not a fragment of the brick. He held it to the light. It was a great ruby, cunningly wrought, and with a winged lion carven thereon. Andrev Wylie, 1900. There was a young man from Dundee, Who went on a terrible spree ; He opened the latch With a lucifer match, And lit the hall gas with his key. Will Scott, 1900.

Page 7 text:

»■ H. t The great king of Babylon was angry. Here he was in the apartment of a wretched dependent, a mere filthy worm. A scribe who made clay bricks and marked strange characters thereon with a sharpened reed was due. And the scribe — the underling — was not at his post. The king was impatient. Go seek him, he said to his servants, and they went forth. The king had many things to think of — of wars, of his army, of affairs of state. But this strange sickness that had newly come upon him made him irritable and peevish. There! he felt it now ; a dizziness, a sinking as into some great void. A severing as of body and soul, and then a great blackness. The king reeled and fell. A great level surface of wet clay, ready for the hand of the scribe, received him. The jewel about his neck broke its fastening and fell, hiding itself in the damp earth beside him. When light broke upon the king the scribe stood before him. The king felt the dangling chain about his neck and missed the jewel. His eyes met those of the writer of records. The man cowered and trembled. He is a thief ! cried the king ; bind him. And they bound him and led him forth. The prisoner dared not speak. Two who watched at the gate of the mighty one were whispering. Said the first : Heard you of the scribe ? He stole the king ' s jewel. The loss is great. The man says he is innocent. The jewel can not be found. It was a great ruby, cunningly wrought, and with a winged lion carved thereon. Merciful and tender was the king, and these were his words : Let clay be brought to my servant, and let him write thereon his crime and his punishment. He has heard me speak.

Page 9 text:

:V- THE SPIRIT OF SUMMER Under the shade of the orchard trees. Fanned by the breath of the fragrant breeze, Softly and silently lulled to sleep, There, by the waves of the ocean ' s sweep. Languid a spirit in summer ' s guise Lazily dreams, ' neath the fleecy skies. Only the faintest of summer blue Smiles through the cloudlets of snowy hue, Shining and sparkling in golden light. Caught from the rays of the sunbeams bright. Crowned with a wreath from the summer flowers, Rests she, and dreams in the woodland bowers. Lingering thus all the summer through. There on the banks of the waters blue. There, until autumn her charm wins away, Dreams the fair queen of a summer day. Though we may miss her when days are cold. Sleeping she lies, ' neath the chilly mold. But, when the flowerets gay bloom again. Smiling she ' ll come through the bower and glen. Birds, her bright heralds, will gaily sing, Making the forest with music ring. Hearts in their ecstasy then will bound. Filled with the sunshine and gladness arouna. Maxine Baker, 1904. 11-: ■• w-m ■rx: -•.% ' j ix