Franklin College - Almanack Yearbook (Franklin, IN)

Page 20 text:

4 X X jj jjj -13591 'rr' ' -- fi ' - f X --sb-:f a S -M, ......,.ZQ -,,,,, ,, g ' i f35 lT ' v ' 'W' - 'ig 1 ,ffff :fix - ' A ' 'af is s Q 1 -Us X W N X . t suss riersltttil- Kvmvmhrr, Bear Remember, dear, wherever fate may lead you, 'Neath stormy cloud, or through the sun's bright ra That l, somewhere afar, shall ever need you, And dream of you, although you're far away. When love first came its sudden rapture thrilled meg My soul at last had found its counterpart: Y, And now with sweet surprise your love has filled me- Remember, dear, that with you goes my heart. Remember, dear, when shadows fall about you, And in the gloom you wander from the way, That there is one whose heart is bare without you A- Remember, dear, nor let your footstep stray. And when again the light breaks forth in glory, And on the rock yourfeet securely stand - Then tell me, love, once more the old, old story -- Remember, dear, my heart is in your hand. By ELMER DAVIS, 'io 4 1 Sixtcenl

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5 A-x--,--- -','-'-',-x--'x----'-'--- - ----,--------------- x,, E. x-x-- - --'-------xx--x- .X.x. X ----- - eeeeeetttttt - K ,, :: lii Q Q 1 1 . ., g Lois sobered with sudden recollections. She gazed dejectedly into the grate as though the dying embers there were fit companions for her thoughts. Then she spoke quietly, without trace of her former tantalizing tone. '4You were right, Duncan. I canlt write. All my ef- forts have fallen apart like those ashes there. I have studied, too, lately, night and day. But I guess it's no use. I planned to write a story just to show you I could, but I have been unable to get a single idea. I'Perhaps you have been looking too high. Ideas lurk so closely to us sometimes that we look right over their heads. f'Perhaps, she continued, thoughtfully. HThis ex- perience has taught me- She stopped abruptly. Straight at Duncan she stared, her eyes not seeing his. Thus for a second or two. Then her relaxed body gathered itself into an aggressive atti- tude and she sprang from her chair with so obvious a joy in her face that Duncan was instantly on his feet beside her. Duncan,'l she cried, Ngo home, at once. I've got- You've got a case of nerves. What's up P he laughed. Lois had him by the arm. '4Oh, please go home, Dunk! I think I see a way to help you. I- must be alone to think it out. You must go! She had propelled him into the hall. Now she rushed him into his coat and before he could remonstrate further he found himself on the veranda. f'Come to me tomor- low afternoon, and a'on't Close your forms. A little squeeze on the arm, a quick Ugood night in his ear and the door slammed between them. He heard the snap of an electric light switch and her flying feet on the stairs. He stood a moment, thinking, then passed off the veranda to the sidewalk. A light flashed from an upper front window. He looked up and saw Lois. She was sweep- ing books, magazines and various other articles from a table. He watched her drag the table directly under the electric light. She opened the drawer and took out a writing tablet. Then she pulled the blind. -15 3- 55 A4 55 95 55 The College Year Book was out. An artistic achieve- ment from cover to cover, it was something more-a sur- prise. The expected story of Professor Carstadt did not appear, in its place was the surprise-a story in which fictitious names failed to hide familiar identities. It was signed Lois Trouch and bore the significant title- Elie Svinrg fF1fteen

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'A ' ' '111t'A 'k'L N ' NEW i1 1 . a aaaaa . s L .....Y.f:,ff1 QQQlll .,....YYY. is By Rqjjgggjjg Qjjjjjvjfjjgjg f1'j'qj'j jL4'0-I, 1611111 in EP iflitrrztrg D In One Easy Lesson Q HE beautiful part of being .iterary is the pleasant fact that it really doesn't require any bmins at all. The so-called brainy people are doing really big things, like unto the building of canals, or being col- lege presidents, or establishing great industries. Any- body can readily see that it takes no genuine intellectual acumen to talk 'ftone colorw or character portrayal or 'fpsychological data . No one needs such a massive or- gan as a mind to discuss the large value of lbsenesque literature, or the eccentricity of a Kipling, or the risque verse of Walt Whitman. Far from it! There are two types of literary people-pseudo and real. Since there is always safety in numbers, one should hasten to align himself with the pseudos, in that this class shows far more literary propensity than their humbler brothers. Too, pretending is far easier than mastering. Almost every magazine guarantees its readers a mastery of art, or success as an actor, or large ability as a writer, in ten easy lessons. I go farther and assure that even before you have finished these simple words, here put down in order, that you may arise fully equipt to go forth, a literary fellow in whom there is no guile-on comparatively little. Let us suppose that you have chosen to become a pseudo. Suppose that, since you are not going to build a canal or lSeventeen .lag- erect a college, youl have contented your' self with being a lit- erary man or woman. Good! Weunderstand each other perfectly. Now-Hrst thing-sit down and write! No matter just what. Write a few soulful lines about Spring. Do not worry about such trivial things as unity and proportion: nobody will ever know, anyway, neither take thought for the so- called f'swing or the arrangement of your stanzas. Nor is it wise to waste postage in submitting your beautiful verses to the pitiless eye of the editor of a modern journal. He does not know what good work is, anyhow. He draws down his little hundred a week for helping out his close friends. WVhy take such hasty judgment? Wliy be bored with a possible rejection slip?