Frankfort Pilgrim College - Pilgrim Yearbook (Frankfort, IN)

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KODAKS Self Conscious but Hopeful Home And the Lord hath brought me home again. -Ruth 1: 21 IO 0+ 5 I was a wandering sheep I did not love the foldg I did not love my shepl1erd's voiee, I would not be controlled. I was a Wayward child, I did not love my home, I did not love my Fatl1er's voice- I loved afar to roam. No more a Wandering sheep, I love to be controlled, I love my tender Shephe-rd's voice, I love the peaceful fold: N0 more a Wayward child, I seek no more to roamg I love my heavenly Father's voice, I love, I love His home. V -wk I

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Undergraduates Wanda Faye lievell Roland Clark Martha Jane Vllhelan Ruth Rounds Grace Lamb UNEXPECTED tContinued from page 75.5 And then Mr. Freeland saw the pile of 11ew posts. VVould the intended fence infringe upon the territory of his garden? Looka here, Wesself' he ejaculated, you needn't think you're gonna have a strip of my garden on your side,-my garden ground that's the best in the country. A eontemptible seowl appeared on Mr. Wessel's face and his beady eyes fastened themselves appraising-ly upon the old man. Long had these two men been neighbors, long had their gardens adjoined, but each year Mr. Freeland's garden had been the better. Fm not wanting none of your old ground, taunted Vilessel. I'm just takin' what belongs to me I'd have you know. Well, yelled Mr. Freeland, you're not even an honest man, you- you know that's my ground. By the aid of his cane the old man advanced menacingly toward his neighbor. He was furious. He kicked at one of the new posts, kicked it past the post holes and almost to the edge of the ditch. But Wessel was enjoying his neighbor's rage. He only laughed and spat eontemptuously in the 0th61',S direction. At this, old Mr. Freeland's fury knew no bounds. He shook his cane in the other man's face and made ready to strike him. But Mr. VVessel saw his chance. Quickly and eunningly he shoved the old man who fell backwards over the posts and into the ditch. Mr. Wessel walked nearer the edge of the ditch. But his mocking laugh was changed to a gasp of horror. Old Mr. Freeland lay in the bottom of the ditch, his fists clenched and his neck broken. He had found no time to get sanctified at death. .-76...

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nnuunm Expressions of Hope We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of - dreams Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streamsg World-losers and world-forsakers, Of whom the pale moon gleamsz Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world forever, it seems. as -.f as it The1'e are songs of joy that I love When my heart was as blithe as to sing, a bird in springg 40 Hut the song' I have 1earn'd is so That the dawn shines out in the full of cheer, darkness drear. There are songs of home that are And I list to them oft 'mid the dear as life din of strifeg But I know of a home that is And I sing' the psalm they are wondrous fair, siiigiiig there. That rich celestial music thrilled the air From hosts on hosts of shining ones. who thronged Eastward Elllfl westward, making bright the night. Ring out ye crystal spheres! If ye have power to touch our sen- ses sog Once bless our human cars, And let your silver chime Move in melodious time: And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow, And with your ninefold harmony, Make up full consort to the angelic symphony. il: The warrior for the True, the Right, Fights in llove's name: The love that lures thee from that fight Lures thee to shame: That love which lifts the heart, yet leaves The spirit free,- That love, or none, is fit for one Man-shaped like thee. f-.-. 41-78-