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Page 23 text:
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T)ajfodil Deep in the woodland glade, Close by a rill, Sheltered in darkest shade. Blooms daffodil. Doom to Persephone Plucked she your bloom, Tool of Fate ' s destiny Lured by perfume. — Betty Stearns, Low Nine. A WILD RIDE Late one Saturday afternoon, on the fourth floor of a large de- partment store in New York City, a certain Miss Sophronia Jessup, amid throngs of pushing customers, suddenly happened to look at the store clock and found, to her dismay, that it was four-thirty. She remembered, still more to her consternation, that by five o ' clock she was expected to be at a hospital several miles distant to visit a sick friend. Since visiting hours closed at five, she hastily gathered up her purchases and quickly made her way to the elevators, only to see the top of one, downward bound, just disappearing. While she was waiting, another one passed, full to its capa- city, and not stopping to open its doors. In another minute, a white light twinkled down at the other end of the long row. She hurried to this and was about to step in when she heard the elevator starter say, Going up; going up. Her third attempt in getting an elevator, however, was suc- cessful. Down to the first floor in the crowded elevator, she rode, and you may be sure Miss Sophronia was the first to alight. By sheer force she man- aged to elbow her way through the throng of shoppers and squirm out the front door. She immediately summoned a taxi and her words to the driver were: To Francis Hospital. Be quick, my man; most urgent. (Miss So- phronia always spoke in sharp, jerky phrases.) And then the long re- membered ride began. Up and down hills and through tunnels, the cab raced, until a loud siren sounded directly behind them, and, in a second, a motorcycle, bearing an officer of the law, drew up beside them. Shure an it ' s like a race horse you ' re goin ' . Why the speed, me man? asked a huge, burly Irish policeman. Oh, said the driver, I gotta very sick lady in the car here. I ' m atakin ' her to the hospital. Oh, well, ef thot be the case, nobody kin ever say Dan O ' Mera hin-
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Page 22 text:
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In fact, he even quit the air corps of which he had been a very enthusi- astic member. His nerve was completely shattered and he shunned any- thing with any risk to it. It was all because of that jinx ship. But, after ten months in this condition, he decided that if he was going to die, he was going to die, and once more joined the Air Force. He even went back to his old plane, the X-13. Then one day while he was warming up his deadly craft, she began to miss, and then backfire. Just cold, he said to himself, and gave her the gun. Wilson flew high that day; higher than usual. At a great height, his motor sputtered and then died. He thought of the jinx. Suddenly, the captain ' s voice came through the radio, Your ship is on fire; take to your chute. Wilson made all haste to do just that, but in his frantic thaste he pulled the ring too soon, and his chute caught in the tail surfaces of his plane. He shrieked in agony. So died the only man who ever flew this jinx and lived a year, and he Hved just three hundred sixty-six days. — Loren Caffee, Low Nine. {NO SHANGHAI DURING THE WAR Shanghai is divided into four main sections, the International settle- ment, the Chinese city, and Chapei. We were refugees in the French settlement within a mile and a half of the firing line. One night a bomb landed on the street on which we lived, but we were not in as much danger as one might think, for Japan knew if they started fighting in the International settlement the other countries of the world would be involved. The rattle of machine guns, the rumble of cannon reached our ears as we sat in the evening reading the newspaper or wondering what would happen next. Hundreds upon hundreds of the Chinese that lived in Chapei were fleeing into the International settlement for safety. The streets were thronged with people using all modes of travel, conveying them and their few belongings to safety. At ten o ' clock a curfew blew. Anyone found in the streets after that hour spent the night in jail. Every night for a solid month we could hear the bombs, shells, and machine guns, while every once in a while a French tank or armored car would go by our door with guns bristling patroling the streets of the French settlement. The ruin caused by the war was terrible, but that is another story. — David L. Weeks, Low Eight.
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Page 24 text:
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dered any sick person from bem ' took to the hospital. Come along, then; let ' s git goin ' . They started on their way again, going at a more terrific speed than before, the car careening so at times that it was nothing short of a miracle that it didn ' t turn over. Finally, Miss Sophronia in her fright, began to bang on the window which separated the driver ' s seat from the back seat, trying frantically to ask the driver what in the world the policeman was doing, going in front of them and blowing the siren, and why they were going so fast, ' ' hen the driver did loo back in answer to these frantic gesticulations, all he saw was a white, agonized face which spurred him on to increased speed. It was then that Miss Sophronia became hysterical and famted. W hen they reached the hospital, going straight to the emergency en- trance, attendants rushed Miss Sophronia up to the operating room where she recovered from her famt. She had a difficult time explaining that she came only to visit a friend. — Patricia J. Parrish, High Seven. Christopher Columbus I fonihJ bhu !u the street one night, A-shiv ' rin u ith the cold; I took him home and gai e him food , And hou nn nia did scold. She said he u eren ' t no decent dog, An ' so full o ' dirt and fleas, An ' Pa said he was doggone sure He had some queer disease. But finally , they both agreed That he could lit e u ith us; Noic sis, she got so blazin ' mad, She raised an auful fuss. But J just laughed at her, you see, I didn ' t care a cent, 1 kneu the pup uas safe, because whatever Pa said uent. I named him for Columbus, And called Ifim Chris, for short — Sis u anted it poetical — didn ' t like that sort.
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