Girls High School - Yearbook (Reading, PA)

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Third Year Course in Domestic Science Care of Infants

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his uncle by his side and all fear forgotten. Everywhere were the roses, and everywhere the shining morning faces of the people. He stepped forward to speak to thern and instantly there came a great stillness. The old mayor watched him furiively, and his cold gray eyes sparkled with delight. The boy was speaking well. The silence grew tense, for the moment of announcing the winning rose had come. Slowly the boy put his hand into his coat, and slowly he drew forth the faded dropping mass of softest petals which had won the gold. It was the while rose. . - My Ideal Far oil in the dim, cold distance, Is 21 vision fair to see, Daily, hourly, it comes nearer, Nearer to the earth and me. It is clothed in rainbow colors, Piercing through the darkest night, And to me it is my ideal, Calling me to do the right. At the close of a day auspicious it shines out most radiantlyg When the day is long and irksome, lt is waiting patiently. HELEN R. BALTHASER. 13

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Longfellow, Wfhe., Sweetest of All Singers Alumni Prize Essay By Edith S. Brunner VER and over again we read, quote, and derive comfort from the foreign bards, but never with envy in our hearts, for although America has not as yet become a pillar to the throne of Art, not so many years have passed since, in this lzingdom between the seas, all the world heard the voice of one singing. ln an age of mighty shoutings, new inventions, and great confusion, he trerit. quietly amid the tumull, and had he been asked the reason why, he might tai. e answered, l am only shepherding my sheep with music. So he went quietly along' his chosen way which led sometimes to the door of the village smithy, sometimes to the pine-scented ship-yard, sometimes down the marble stairs into old gardens, HlLlll'O cities and thro solitudes, by towers of old cathedrals tall, and castles by the Rhine, but always among the ways and haunts of men, and always , Along that narrow-way Which leads no traveler's foot astray, From realms of love. , , From the wedding feast in an Indian lodge, he came to the tide-beaten coast ot Acadia and from a walk through tall dark trees, and by running brooks, where his thoughts flow ed along with the murmuring water, he always returned in time for The Childrenls Hour. ,ln his own heart the wavering pines and willows kept up a perpetual melody, and he could not choose, but sing back to them. As we suddenly stop in Spring to catch the song of the first robin, so men. women and children stopped under the charm of this strange lovely music. There was the youth, just setting out on lite's journey, and the old man whose days were well nigh spentg the toiler sweating beneath his load, and the idler who took new courage, the lonely sailor on t'ar-oli' seas, and the gray-minded scholar, whose candle burnt into the small hours of the nightg the happy mother, Crooning a lullaby, and the children for whom the charmer made old songs young with his singing. lrresistihly they were drawn, and as they,came, their faces became wonderfully lightened, while the tigzagged paths of their lives grew more straight, for A t'God sent his Singers upon earth That they might touch the hearts of men With songs of gladness and ot mirth And bring them hack to Heaven again. 1