Farmington High School - Laurel Yearbook (Farmington, ME)

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THE LAUREL 19 Michael shook l1is head a little sadly and I knew I could never tell the truth to her. L. Whitcomb, '25. THE TAPS OF DEATH T was a cold, clear night in December. The wind was blowing around my house, rattling blinds, slamming doors, and raising such a howl that I got still further down in my chair, and began to read again. Just then my mother came in and said, Betty, you must go to bedg it is half-past nine now. I knew it was no use to argue, so I got up, laid my book on the table and went out into the hall. The wind was blowing a gale. The blinds rattled more than ever, a door went to with a bang which startled me so that I thought my heart was going to jump into my throat. The stairs were long and winding and although there was a light, there were some dark places which I did not like to pass. I hesitated at the foot of the stairs, getting up my courage. I wanted my mother to go up with me, but did not dare to ask her for fear she would think me a coward, and I was deter- mined not to be an afraid-cat. As I started up, I saw a book lying on the stairs. The name was, The Mystery of the Haunted House. My mother had told me never to read itg this made me Want to all the more so I thought I would take it to bed and read. I held my breath, looked all ways and then ran wildly, glancing behind me as I went, to see if anything had come out of the darkness, for I had a great imagina- tiong but finally I reached my room. Put- ting on the light I made ready for bed. After I got in bed I took the book and started to read it. It seemed to be interest- ing for it was about a mysterious murder and had all sorts of horrible things in it. One part which was rather weird was about a man who rapped on his enemies' windows three times at midnight to warn them of their danger and that he meant to harm them. As I heard my mother coming up the stairs I put the book under my pillow and feigned sleep. She came in, turned off the light and closed the door. I dared not put on the light again, so I laid still and thought about it. I must have fallen asleep for suddenly I was awakened by a loud rap on the window. I sat up in bed, trembling with fright, I wanted to jump up and run, but was para- lyzed with fear. I waited for some timeg my fright al- most left me, when I heard three distant raps on the window. This time I was seized with terrorg who could it be? I thought of the story I had read and slid the bed clothes over my head, not even com-I ing up for air. As I lay there quietly thinking of all the horrible things I had ever heard, there came again, six or seven raps insistently seeming to command me to obey. The wind was still blowing a gale and for the fourth time the raps came one after another in measured time. By this time I was completely covered up and was at the foot of the bed. After a while I heard no more raps, the wind had stopped blowing. In great need of air I popped my head out quickly from the den. I laid awake for an eternity and then finally I fell asleep. ' The next morning as I was going down- stairs, my father and mother came into the hall below talking. What my father said made me jump out of my skin for joy-if such a thing were possible. It was this that he said: I must see about having someone cut that limb off the tree todayg it rapped against the windows until the wind went down. Until then I had forgotten all about the tree which stands just outside my window. L. Barker, '25,

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18 THE LAUREL faced man who removed his corn-cob pipe long enough to give me a hearty greeting. The older boy was sent to fetch some corn cake and I was introduced to the fourth member of the family. Sure and this is me lad Tim, said the mother, and a right bright lad he is. Throughout the meal Tim entertained us with a sprightly account of the morning's doings, while his brother, Michael, ate his dinner, scarcely speaking, but it was he who afterward clumsily helped his mother dry the dishes. They refused to take any money for my dinner but would consent to accept a small sum for a few days' lodgings, until I felt strong enough to walk back to town. It was always the same, Michael plodded through the day's work, shouldering, I was forced to believe, more than a full share of the labor, while Tim laughed away work and kept merry. Each night his mother would say: Me Timmy lad, faith an' he keeps me old heart young, the right bright lad he is. Seated under-the fragrant apple tree one evening watching the stars and their reflec- tion in the little streams, breaking the still- ness, the sound of two voices came to my ear. It was Michael and Tim. Tim's voice came eager and impatient: I've got to go, Michael, I can 't stay here any longer, tied to the land and the hoeg you don't mind, you can take care of them, but I 've got to see the world! To live ! But mither 'll miss you, Tim. Yes, mither'll miss me, a trifle sadly, but I'm goin'. Good-by Michael. Good-by Tim. The grief of Mrs. O'Flarrity was hard to witness but she triumphed over it by the confronting thought that some day, Timmy would come back to her, rich and great, for he 's a right bright lad, me Timmy. Bk lk lk lk lk lk Some years later, my health quite recov- ered, I received the honor of being elected district judge in Southern England. The morning was a fine one and a day in court seemed a punishment, but as the first de- fendant was brought in, my interest was aroused. There was something familiar about the slender shoulders which now had a pathetic droop. He lifted his eyes, and at once I knew! Tim! But what a differ- ent Tim. Ragged and haggard from lack of food and sleep, the jaunty look had gone, but a little of the same spirit was still in his eyes. The charge was theft. He pleaded guilty. His story was pitiful enough, no work, no money, no friends. There was nothing to do but sentence himg however, I made his term of imprisonment as short as my conscience would allow. I do not think he recognized me for in my wig and gown I was quite a different figure than in the aged corduroys I had worn ten years ago when he had last seen me. When that term of court had ended, as there was nothing calling me until the next term about a month later I determined to visit the O'Flarritys for the sight of Tim had aroused pleasant memories of the visit of ten years ago. I found the cottage much more comfort- able and kept by Michael's wife, a bustling woman in the late twenties. Mr. O'Flarrity was dead and his wife was still living in the little house, Michael had made her life one of comparative comfort. I, alone, was not at my ease, for I was trying to think of some gentle way to tell them of Tim. For I thought it better that they should know, they who loved him, and would take him back to the farm where lay Tim's only chance of regaining his good name and reputation. Engrossed as I was in these thoughts, my attention was suddenly caught by the words of little old Mrs. O'Flarrity. sg sq rpm 'uuq was elqsnae aux Jeql 1911:-my arp noi Sugmoqs aq mm 'axaq per Iaeqogw pig 'iunugl am Qnoqe Mount noA H now and up with the best of them. You see, sir, Timmy knew the' faith of his old mitherg that 's why he is great, my Timmy.

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20 THE LAUREL GHOSTS AND cRoss-woRD PUZZLES HE shrieking wind whistled through the pines as young Sanford hurried home from the card party. It was about half past twelve and the foggy atmosphere promised a shower at any moment. The fact that he had lost most of the games and trumped his partner's ace at the card party plus the toil of the day had led him into a state of depression such as only an amateur card player can attain. As he mounted the long Death Hill and passed the cemetery, he was suddenly aroused by the fact that something was behind him close at his heels. Not daring to look around, he commenced to run homeward. 4' Ha, cried a shrill voice, Hail to thee, young Sanford, winner of a Duplash but loser of the cash. He looked behind but saw nothing except a white streak standing in the road. He dared not look again but ran with might and main till he reached home. He was no longer weary. Sleep was farthest from his intentions or purposes. He entered the small sitting room, turned on the lights and threw himself into a near-by chair to medi- tate upon this ghostly spectacle. Could it be a ghost or a witch? Oh well! it 's only my imagination. Of course, I shall never have a Duplash. That was only my mind. 'Winner of a Duplash but loser of the cash,' that is the least of my worries, was his final remark to himself as he picked up a magazine from the stand. The pages slipped through his fingers but meant nothing to his mind. He could not forget the ghost. On the very last page of the paper he noticed a cross- word puzzle. His eyes gazed steadily at it for an instant, and before he realized it he was solving the puzzle. At another stray glance his eyes met the following adver- tisement: Solve This Puzzle Send twenty-five cents to Duplash Auto Co., Rideout, Ill. By return mail receive Two thousand dollars Cash or New 1925 Duplash The advertisement appealed to his imagi- nation. He instantly thought of the meet- ing with the ghost. Could it be that he was really able to win a Duplash? That was what the spirit prophesiedg that was what the advertisement said. He resolved to send his answer immediately. Six days passed before his reply came. It was a most excellent letter stating that since his choice was a car instead of cash, they were sending it as soon as possible. Soon he re- ceived a cylinder shaped package. What could it be? No address on the wrapper except his own. It must be a sample copy of a magazine. As he tore open that wrap- per his wonder and ,curiosity grew. At last! What should it be but a beautiful picture of a new 1925 Duplash car. Hail to thee, young Sanford!! Winner of a Duplash But loser of the cash. Florence E. Hcwcy. AJ. SALUT D'AMOUR T the low kitchen table sat Mrs. Cote, a little woman with gray hair, and a face that showed lines of sorrow and care. Near her sat a pretty, dusky-haired girl who was her daughter, Louise. Across from them sat Robert Garrett, Lou's sweetheart. The rays of the lamp fell on the radio from which came the sweet, ten- der strains of Salut D'Amour played by a violinist. As the music fell upon the ears of the silent listeners unshed tears came to the mother's eyes and a sad look fell on the thoughtful face of the girl as she sat with her chin cupped in her hands. Bob became sad and as the song ended he quickly left the room. Mrs. Cote soon went to bed and Lou alone heard the announcer say that the concert was given by prisoners in Valley- brook prison. Five years ago Maurice Cote had left his mother and sister to go to the city to earn a living by playing a violin in a theatre orchestra. He had planned to bestow upon his mother and sister, comforts they had never known. The father had died when