Girls High School of Brooklyn - Blue and Gold Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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THE MARBLE HAND 3f?Jl'1ffif?HAN HERE was a sfill whiTe face in The pool of shadows beyond The fireplace, as sfill and whiTe as The lilies on The unrippled surface of waTer losT in The sombre depfhs of woods. WiTh his back To The room sTood a young man who gazed fixedly ouT over The snow covered rooffops. dyed gold by The sun ThaT almosT Touched The Tops of The blue- grey mounfains in The disfance. His sfeely. grey- blue eyes did noT see beyond The diamond panes of The window: They looked inward aT The ache ThaT cuT like an icy knife. His eyes were 1 of The Norfh, of The blue of ice, The grey of limifless sky over snow-swepT sfeppes, and a glinT of The green of norfhern seas: buT They were noT hard. for There was in Them a bif of dream. As he Turned To The room and The sTill figure in The shadows. The glow of The sun caughT in his hair. As iT caughT, iT seemed as Though an icy Tremor shook The woman. LighT, she Thoughf. iT is going ouT of my life wiTh you. How can I bear The shadow of These cliffs and The perpefually grey sky. You would have broughT lighT info my life: I could have come To undersTand The beauTy of This counfry: buT now I shall walk in The shadow forever. Oh, Cassandra, he said. I have kepT This from you, hop-ing ThaT I mighT find some oTher paTh, one ThaT would IeT Two walk side by side: buT There is none. Opporfunify has knocked, and I musT grasp iT before iT flees. My place can never be here, indicafing The Town wiThouT. lT is Too small a place. WaiT for me. I will refurn in The Time To come. I can promise you nofhing, 0laf. she replied. Time brings wiTh iT changes which we cannoT foresee. Go ouT and do as your spirif dic- TaTes. buT you musT noT Then hope for me. I dare noT dream of your reTurn. No, Cassandra, you musT noT say such Things. I swear ThaT I will reTurn. We musf make no vows ThaT fafe may change. she answered sadly. ReaIizaTion of your dreams will noT bring you peace and con- TenTmenT. IT will only awaken you To greaTer sfriving. There are so few who can give To The world ThaT we dare noT wasTe Their gifT. If There is THE BLUE AND GOLD ' Page ThirTee-n

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was This she was saying?-- and Mr. Thompson says ThaT he never saw a more perfecT example of LowesTofT-a museum piece--offered me Twice whaT I Thoughf iT was worTh, buT I would noT parT wiTh iT! Anne looked guiITily aT The oTher four buT found Them all looking guiITily aT her. Phyllis casT down lashes on suddenly flushed cheeks: buT when she raised Them. she noTed oTher blushes. Doris. Jean, and Barbara discovered no 'looks of amazemenT or of bewildermenf. only of confusion. The TruTh dawned. Did you--? Oh, Anne. you never---? Don'T Tell me you--? Do you mean To Tell me--17 Jean, you wrefch,--I Five pairs of eyes Turned Towards Miss ApplegaTe: confession Tumbled from five pairs of lips. Miss Applegafe looked sTrangeIy calm. l knew iT all The Time, she announced. In The sTunned silence which followed she Told Them ThaT Mr. PraTT. The old man in The shop where They had boughf The china. had come To her wiTh his suspicions and doubTs. She had decided To IeT Things Take Their course and see iusf whaT Their years of Training and Their own consciences would lead Them To do. She had done, she admiTTed. a liTTIe spying. She had seen some queer doings during The nighT. BuT The SparTan lady conTinued, I'd raTher have had The Tea seT smashed Than inTerrupT The experimenf. In The morning I made sure The real seT was There. and Then I inviTed you girls here To waTch The lasT acT of The play. Anne murmured. Can you ever forgive us? Barbara said Miss Applegafe imperfurbably, will you please pour The Tea? A A COUNTRY BREAKFAST Slowly inTo my drowsy senses driffed The pungenT odor of breakfasf coffee. I wriggled down inTo The big bed To escape The smell: iT was Too cold: I did noT wanT To geT up. Again I poked my nose ouT of The covers. This Time The odor of sausages mixed wiTh The fainT smell of wood smoke and of real maple syrup. Then The smell of meITing buTTer. I could bear iT no longer. I jumped ouT of bed. washed hasfily in icy waTer, pulled on my clofhes. and Tumbled down sfairs. As I opened The kiTchen door The combined odors of a counTry breakfasf assailed me. I inhaled conTenTedly: I was back aT The Valley Farm again! FLORENCE STEVENSON. THE BLUE AND GOLD Page Twelve

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in you. Olaf, fhe power fo give. you musf do so. even fhough if bring am. P There was a silence. Each was fhinking of 'rhe pasf fhaf was known. and whaf 'rhe fufure mighf bring. She fhoughf of when she had come up fhe fiord, fwo years before: fhe dark and sfern views, dull green of pine-clad cliffs 'rhaf swepf down info 'rhe silvery wafers. How she hafed 'rhis forbidden. ioyless counfry. Then fhere was 'rhe lonely life she had led wifh her mofher in fhe village, shuf off from fhe ofher inhabi- fanfs, by 'rheir race. and in fhe beginning. fheir language. Then she had mef Claf on fhe cliff in fhe depfhs of 'rhe woods, and one gleam of sunlighf had come info her life wifh his fair head. He 'rhoughf wonderingly of fhe fufure. Whaf would come? Was if worfh 'rhis sacrifice? And fhis sfrange creafure. his love. of whom if was 'rhoughf fhaf she came from fhe far-off counfries in fhe soufh. Why did she climb fhe hill 'ro fhe clearing, rumored by fhe villagers fo be fhe haunf of long forgoffen gods? Olaf had never quife undersfood fhis being whose nafure had a sfrange warmfh and richness Possessed by none ofher in fhis cold, bare land. Down fhe sfreef came fhe fhud of horses' hoofs. If was as if each had been pricked by a dagger. They have come, he almosf whispered. She rose from her chair and sfepped oul' of fhe shadows. There was infinife pain on her colorless face and almosf a fouch of fear: buf her voice was vibranf. You musf go. Olaf: go ouf info fhe world and make known your name 'rhrough music +ha+ will go down fhrough 'rhe ages on fhe lips of all mankind. Goodbye. Alfhough fhe fufure may change us bofh, my love is always yours. She imprinfed a lighf kiss on his hand and wifh a slighf sob was gone fhrough one of 'rhe paneled doors. Wifh 'rhe closing of fhaf door, she had gone ouf of his life. For- ever? He wondered. She had been sacrificed 'ro his god-music. He would go now. away from 'rhis fown, wifh his rich pafron. He would go wifhoul' ever having fully undersfood her. Why had she said fhaf she mighf nof promise 'ro waif for him? Buf fhen. she had been ouf in ffhe world, while fhe farfhesf he had ever been was 'rhe fi of 'rhe yellow sandbar where 'rhe fiord ran ouf 'ro fhe sea. He wondered how many more fimes she would sif in 'rhaf carved black chair beside fhe greaf clay fireplace wifh ifs curious designs and carved wooden bowls and plafes: how many more fimes she would cross fhis room or 'rurn fhe leaves of fhose fhick volumes in 'rhe corner. From below fhere came fhe sound of sfamping horses and impafienf men's voices. This was idle imagining. he fhoughf. Oufside men were waifing for him: fhe world lay before him. He fook one lasf look and, wondering whefher he would ever again THE BLUE AND GOLD Page Fourfeen