Franklin High School - Molecule Yearbook (Franklin, VT)

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10 The Randle House of Horror In this dark house that hath fortold Of many Randle's horrible lives. Out back they all lie now so cold With only the pine tree's groans and sighs. They, all terrible deeds of death did do - Such things as murders and suicide - And now all dead-this bloody crew; Old Josh hung for patricide. Do not our interred remains disturb Or we will rise and haunt once more - Our hands all smeared with bloody gore, Bangl Slaml Bangl and then all was quiet in the dirty, dark, gloomy, old Randle house, A white transparent luminous shadow arose from the area of a grey picketed inclosure in which tall bone white memorials stood evidence of the resting place of the remains of the terrible clan the Randles. That ghastly white shadow seemed transfix- ed for a moment as if remembering something and then it opened a red maw of a mouth and uttered a heinous sound that began at a low scale and ascended to a high lilting cresendo, It’s a rather large house, remarked Ron Jackson to the Real estate Agent, it is certainly a handyman's dream. The sun was warm with a caressing breeze that smelled of the freshly bloomed lilacs and there were tall scented pines in front of the old house and in back a rather bleak but quaint old cemetery where the remains of old Josh Randle had been laid but a month ago. Ron thought to himself that tho old cemetery would just have to go, but then, he didn't have the moral right to remove it so he would just have to make it as presentable as possible. His mind soon wandered to more pressing problems such as the leaky roof and the broken windows for soon there would be a new bride in this old house and he must make it as homey as possible. It was so horribly dark that the old house seomed to be smothered in a dark velvet cloak. The only light came from the marsh where the will-o- the-wisp gave one the impression of a lost man with a lamp looking for his way or for some lost thing possibly, his soul. It was in this forboding atmosphere that the young Mrs. Jackson tried to ■ quiet her pretty two year old child. The child was a little girl with long blonde ringlets and shining blue eyes that sparkled when she laughed, bringing to attention the dimples in her cheeks. It was strange that ever since Ron had changed his mind and had the old cemetery removed their little girl had been unable to sleep on nights like this. She said that strange shadows were alwajrs lurking over her crib reaching for her when she would awaken but would disappear as soon as she cried for her mother. These grim specters became more and more real as the days went by. Her husband built a small arti- ficial pond where the cemetery once stood and a few weeks before as the light waned in the west, Rover, the German Police watch dog, was seen to jump into the pond and when Ron got to the back of the house the dog was dead, not of drowning for it stood stiff-in the'shallow pond, its .black fur turnod a deathly grey white • ..n Vi. .

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11 Mrs. Jackson’s nerves quivered like violin strings every time she heard a strange sound in the squeaky old house. Doors banged shut mysteriously and shutters groaned in the wind. There were strange sounds in the attic at night scrapping rasping, grinding sounds. One afternoon while Ron was in town and she was cleaning the upstairs bedrooms she heard her little girl screaming. In her frantic haste she mistook the sound to be coming from outdoors only to realize as she rushed into the yard that it came from the dark, grimmy, o3d cellar. She rushed down into the unused cellar, nearly falling on the rotten stairs. She found her daughter in a state of shock, staring at the open mouth of an old closet where a huge skelton was hanging by rusty chains to the back of the closet. It was nearly seven feet tall and had, by the grotesque way that it hung, died slowly and in a terrible manner. The police identified the grim spector as the huge Negro servant the Randids kept to keep visitors away. He had not been seen for a full year before old Josh has been hanged but it was his written testimony mailed to the police that had started the investigation of old Josh. Ron and his wife and child built a small house in town and for years nobody went near the old RandLl' house. The many years later, on a dare, a group of brash young teenagers went to investigate the old place. The house had rotted to the ground and the grounds were grown over with bushes and briars, but in the back of the old ruins they found a rectangular space as clean and neat as if someone wepetaking care of it. In the center of this clearing was a little pond. They moved to the edge of the water and one of the girls gave a percing scream and pointed out into the water; there before their eyes, ris- ing out of the water, was a large, bloodly, gory hand. Morgan Wright ’61 ♦ ♦ ♦ Robert M: I got hurt on the baseball field the other day. David M: How? Robert M: I fell off the bench. Mrs. Benjamin: Who were you with last night? Herman: I was just riding around with some of the boys. Mrs. Benjamin: Well, the next time tell them not to leave their hairpins in the car. Alice: My room is decorated in French Provincial style. Barbara: Mine is in Japanese Modern. Donna: Well, mine is in Contemporary Disorder. Docotr: I’ve examined you thoroughly; All you need is a rest. Miss Gates: Why, doctor, I’m sure I need medicine. Look at my tongue. Doctor: Yes, that needs a rest too.