Evening High School - Owl Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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Q THE OWL cheeks as she thought of them and of her own sad lot. just then, Liza, the jovial colored mammy, who had been born and raised on the Lee plantaf tion, came into the room. What's demattah, chile? said she. Oh nothing, replied Betsy, drying her wet cheeks. Chile, why is you crying? You is de richest chile in dis county. ' Yes, Liza, but money isn't everything in this world. I Yessum, I knose dat, too, but jest de same, tit's sompimf' said Liza. Look, heah, yor fad' der was a ni ole gennulman. Your mudder was de granit lady dat eber libbed. Now, listen heah, you git out ob dat humor and git to smiling, will yuh? Come on, honey, mammy will bake sum ob her special gingah cookies for yuh. I Betsy smiled in spite of herself as she looked atlyiza with her broad grin which disclosed her Hari white teeth. ' 'f' little later, old Liza came in triumphantly bearing a huge plate, full of cookies. She ex' pected a welcome smile, but she found Betsy in the same mood. The girl's face was red and swollen from her constant weeping. Poor Liza did not know what to do. Listen heah, chile, sumpons on yoh mind. You betta tell yoh mammy all about it. Can I help yoh? I'll try to unnerstanf' ' Well, it just seems that I must tell you, said Betsy. Maybe I'll feel better if I get it out of my system, as you say. ' i'Well, I'se listeninf' A Well, I+I'm thankful for all this. I mean for all my property and such. I 'Well you should be, interrupted'Liza. f'What I need Liza is a few nice companions. Qffourse, I mean boys. It just seems as if the boys come around once or twice, and sometimes three times, but that's all. They never fall in love with me. Why look at Mary. just the other night, Freddie Parker told Mary that he loved her. Before the evening was over, he proposed to her. All of my friends will marry, and I'll be left an old maid. Tell me, Liza, how shall I act when Allan calls tonight. I like him better than any other boy I know. I want to keep him. He'll come tonight, but I just know he won't come often. What can I do, Liza? sobbed Betsy. Chile yoh put on yoh bestest dress, dat one you got for yoh coming out pahty. Den yoh take him to de flowah garden. In de moonlight, he sho will git romantick. Ef he don't, I'll be thinkin ob sum odder way, replied the loyal old colored mammy seriously. Following her advise, Betsy wore her green evening dress. As she walked down the broad staircase, she was a heavenly vision. The delif cate green of her gown was a pleasing contrast to her golden blond hair. Tiny tendrils of curls were gathered low on her neck and encircled the radiance of her sweet face. She looked far lovelier than she did for her coming out party. As soon as Allan arrived, Betsy suggested a stroll through the garden down to the river's edge. It was a warm night, but there was a breeze by the river. Myriads of stars clustered overhead like twinkling jewels in a setting of azure blue. A delicate, crescent moon shaped through the fragile tracery of a weeping willow tree which gracefully dipped its foliage into the quiet river. It was a perfect setting for a romantic episode, however, it failed to move Allan. He just strolled by Betsy's side, chatf tering nonchalantly. That night, Betsy climbed the stairs dejectf edly and flung herself disconsolately on her bed, crying as if her heart were broken in a thousand pieces. At breakfast, Liza inquired about the night before. Betsy told her of the unsuccessful stroll along the river's edge. I was talking to de darkies last night. Dey gib me sum ideers. Dey tole me dat ole sayin, 'De only way to a man's heart is by his stomickf Dey sez to feed him sumpin good, and mebbe dat will anchorage him, advised Liza. Don't be silly Liza. He gets enough to eat around here. You are the best cook in the South. Surely no one can beat you in cooking. What more could he want? ' Dey sez dat is de trouble. He wants you to cook, not me. I'l1 teach you right now. No, Liza, that will never do. I'll never learn to cook. I'll never try. Allan was not like the others, he continued to call, but never proposed. Finally, Betsy's birthday arrived. Allan was invited to dinner that evening. Liza made great plans and great preparations for the best dinner possible. In the last afternoon, Betsy was suddenly startled by a scream from the kitchen. She flew down the stairs to find Liza lying on the kitchen floor. The old mammy had had a. serious fall. Her ankle was badly'-wrenched. g There would be no hustle or bustle for Liz? that day. my My 1 There was only one thing to do L'i 7 - superintend and Betsy must do the , 5i?:ljf1. In the midst of the cooking Allan arrived. g y was standing over the fire, busily stirring the soup. Her face was flushed, her hair was in a charming disarray. Allan stood in the doorway with an amused look on his face. Bgsy sew Sixty--two

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173-- I.. THE OWL itself. I believe we all felt more or less under the hypnotic spell of the singing. But too soon it ended. It was over, but the audience seemed as if in a trance. Not a sound was heard for at least thirty seconds. Then the stillness was broken by a low cry from the taut figure be' side me. Catherine ! Catherine l Yes, Paul, was the barely audible answer. In three gigantic strides, the man was beside the singer, had clasped her hands. Is it really you Catherine? he said. Yes, I am afraid it is, was the soft answer. And a faint tinge of rose glowed upon her cheeks. Aside, I made a mental note never again to attempt to guess a woman's age. She seemed so young now, so beautiful. Not a person had spoken in the interval. Then Miss Allen spoke slowly, Oh, Paul, I recognized you the moment you entered the room this evening. But I was afraid to speak. I couldn't believe it was really you-Oh, I'm so glad to see you. You haven't changed at all. Then Mr. Carman was speaking, Why it's-it's a miracle. I can't believe my eyes. You're still the same fine, sweet Catherine Allen I once knew. But your hair, you're wearing it differently. Oh, but I should have recognized you immediately, but I couldn't expect to nd you here. I-it seems impossible! After all these yearsfl Then you're not .... ? was the hesitating question. No, dear,-there has been no other, was the man's soft reassuring answer. The couple seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that anyone even breathed around them. Oh Paul, why didn't you wait for an ex' planation that night, entreated Miss Allen. Let's not talk about it dear, it seems so long ago, and I was so very foolish, the tall man answered, with a smile. Then they both turned, looked startled for a moment, and then Mr. Carman smiled broadly. Miss Allen blushed and as the rosy hue rose to her cheeks, her blue eyes seemed to 611 with something that made them fairly shine as she glanced up at the man besfde her. And she, too, was smiling. I am afraid we owe you an apology, said Mr. Carman. And I noticed his voice sounded much younger, and in his grey eyes was the sparkling youth. Strange indeed, the effect of this most powerful of emotions upon man. He was speaking, his eyes on the dark head at his shoulder. You see, Miss Allen and I were very close friends some years ago, but there was a slight misunderstanding between us, that I am afraid I must admit was all my fault. I see it all now -I was hasty in my actions and in my subsef quent decision. But I left Baltimore where we were both studying music and went West to start life anew. But it's all right now, were the quiet words of the girl at his side as she laid her hand reas' suringly on his arm. He tumed to Mrs. Carver, who seemed very amused over something, Mrs, Garver, can you put up a very old man for the night? he asked. I hardly believe so,l' she said, her motherly countenance shining and her eyes twinkled. You see-I am afraid my accommodations would suit only a very young man. Fair enough, was Paul Carman's laughing reply. I feel almost like a boy again this even' ing. Then I shall wire my regrets to the com' mittee in Washington. For you see, and his voice took on an air of mock sternness, I believe I shall have some very, very important business to attend to in the next few days. Is that cor' rect, Miss Allen? Yes, whispered the girl softly, but her gleaming smile and her glistening eyes spoke more convincingly. And his arms were around her,-and we all turned our heads for just at that moment came a long blast from the hom on a big motor coach that had just pulled up before the Inn. The Way to a Man's Heart By VIRGINIA B. H1zssoN The sun beamed brightly through the spacious drawing room of Colonel Lee's mansion which was situated on one of the highest hills in Virf ginia. Betsy Lee, the late Colonel's daughter, was sitting in the easy chair by the window Sixtyfone listening to the crooning, haunting but happy melodies of the darkies in the fields nearby. How happy they were! They had no good cause to be, for they were slaves, waiting for the day of freedom. The tears trickled slowly on Betsy's

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f ,iw -wi.3ig-Laws. If ' THE I-. 1 as I I 0 OWL ir. L ,. r dinner very daintily. The dinner was ai real success. After dinner, Betsy and Allan strolled down to the river's edge just as they did that unforf gettable night not so long ago. When they reached the house again, Betsy found Liza on the lawn laughing and dancing with the other darkies. I done did dat so yoh git a chance to find de way to dat man's heart. By de look on yoh face, it worked out to profection. Come on all yoh darkies, les sing foh da happy couple, called Liza. Betsy looked soulfully at Allan, who thanked Liza heartily. With Betsy in his arms, he said to Liza, Liza we can't do without you. You'll have to come and live with us. a A Literary Man ' By WILLIAM J. Fosrak A' Books are the food of youth, the delight of old ageg the ornament of prosperity, the refuge and comfort of adversity, a delight at home, and no hindrance abroad, companions at night, in traveling, in the country. As I topped the rise of the hill, which was splashed along its crest with resplendent gold of the setting sun, I paused a moment to view my surroundings. The glowing pencil' like fingers were slowly withdrawing as the sun sank gently below the next ridge. It was just about the time of evening when numerous bird whispers issue from the nearby trees and the nighthawks and owls take wing in search of prey. I gazed into the slowly settling valley below me. Several hundred feet down the gentle pinefstudded descent I saw a small cabin, through whose windows a soft lamp glow penetrated. From the chimney a thin streak of whitish' purple smoke forced its way up through the settling dusk, telling a weary traveler that at this part of his journey he would find the comforts of a fireside, the genial hospitality and the simplicity of the mountain folk. I, being a traveler, and knowing the language of the counf try after a fashion, was not entirely unprepared to meet that situation. I made my descent swiftly and presently I found myself upon a neat little path leading up to the small cottage. A short knock caused the door to be opened by a robust and healthy man. He was dressed in the simple garb native to the surroundings. Upon courteously asking what I wished, and being informed that I was a foreigner traveling the country partfway on foot, he extended to me the shelter of the cozy interior. I thanked him and stepped within the door. The room which I entered comprised nearly the entire cottage. Opposite the door was a huge fireplace from which poured forth a mellow heat and glow--highly welcome after the chill of the outdoors. I was invited, after having met his wife and small boy, to share their meal with them. Supper finished, we seated ourselves before the fireplace and in- dulged in conversation relating chiefly to my history and the news of my country. My new friend, who was rather inquisitive, kept a steady flow of questions directed toward me, which I answered as well as I could, hardly finishing one before arfother was asked me. At last I found an opportunity to Question him upon a matter which had interested me since I had entered the cabin. I referred to a shelf of books- be' er of them myself-which was situated upon the v .gIf'2.g1f b left of me. This, it seemed, struck the keynote o Tj Q3-21 'end's personality. Fiithen on, our conver' fliiix ,sr n literary. Fi' 4 ' A me how he had been taught to read by his fatherjto whom these books had previously belonged, also, how he had steadily developed his ability, making his books all e more enjoyable on those lonely nights away in the M tHe r ed to the fact that his wife read them Sixtyfthrec g thoroughly and was delighted with their content, and that he was now teaching the boy to read so that he might not . ,vm W., F ' of this little family after the day's work was finished w flfi l H 5 they had gathered around the hearth. 31 ' Upon answering his questions pertaining to literat .153 Eff 75:3 W, my home country, he was delighted to find that so . :,, f,f,1f'f, -Eigtfliii' printed matter was placed within the reach of most o '11Qj ,.7l li5 ' people. He was, however, somewhat taken back by th Qigff-Qi ' attitude assumed by many of my countrymen to TG f7 is-ll J' U, , . l:e deprived of this great privilege. Books were the jo W' at ' 3' f literature. That thousands, who have innumerable oppci Q 'N A I tunities to read End books through access to the libraries and the economical cost of printed matter, do not exercise this advantage, to him seemed a capital offense. He explained to me the difhculties of obtaining books- situated as he was-and that books, when once obtained- were digested thoroughly and cherished among the choige possessions of the household. A small library, which usually handed down from generation to generation, I I -3 , essential part of almost every home in that district. ' .-Y' 'u as 5 , lr , f. ,il J! i 1-r' , sz 'R '-fly 4: , ai I 'ln Q. Ps ,Ir g 14,1 139 Y' were obtained very rarely and whether or not they weredf ' ' . ' the finest text-which somehow they very often were- they were read sincerely and thoroughly. He then turned to me with a very logical question. He remarked that due to the fact so much literature was.on hand in my country, some would naturally be g ' and Q, , vb 33 ,,.I .5 ,V . ,- v',f'xr,' .A 'E , others not so worthy of your efforts. Knowing t t the . , - lg: ' 9 people were besieged with a steady flow of materia.l,,. I 3 wouldn't it be a hard matter to discriminate between which , ,,,, 1 4.3, ws, should be read, from that which shouldn't? A ,, jeg I Q i I explained that herein lay the fault of many p '15 , ' 'lf' classifying them thusly: by many, an indifferent attitu ' ,5 ' taken, others read merely to have read g while i 5 W 2- though sincere enough, are unable to choose material ill 'U' ' l i ' befitting their purposes. This latter type wander abolit persuaded this way and that by the numerous catalogs booklets with which they come in contact. ll Throughout my entire explanation he remained very attentive and eager to learn of the people who shun golden opportunities through ignorance. The time soon arrived when we were obliged to bring our conversation to a close. His main regret, he expressed, was in not having the luxury of constant company with many, many, more books than those with which he was familiar, As I made ready to depart, I felt reluctant to leave. More than likely I should never see him again, in him I felt I had found a truly remarkable disciple of the literary world. What possibilities this man might develop if he were to have the advantages of some less appreciative folk! What a lesson this literary giant-whose background consisted of a few small books-could teach to the many illiterates who have before them a wealth in volumes! l of