Grants Pass High School - Toka Yearbook (Grants Pass, OR)

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31}p (Enka 19 Hello, George, off again? Union or Consolidated this time?” Neither,” was the reply, which contained a note of attempted joviality. Just going to take a long trip, that’s all.” Kail or boat?” Water.” And the old man passed on. He went down beside the docks, where he could hear the gentle plashing of the water upon greened piling. Gazing out upon the rippling wavelets upon which he had looked with such lightheartedness a few hours before, he w’alked along. After a time he came to a sandy bit of shore, which sloped gently down into the ripples. He did not hesitate. He walked to the edge of this sand spit, put one foot into the water, then the other. It was warm and inviting, and a brisk breeze blew from out the hazy dawn sky. It came to his waist, to his shoulders, to the edge of his raven hair. Still he did not stop. He felt as If he wished it to flow over him and absorb him. He wished to mingle his spirit with them; and as the day grew gray his desire was realized. A few hours later, a certain little woman with white arms and brown hair, sitting in the Central station waiting for the evening train, puzzled over a paragraph in the paper which read: “The B. H. corporation’s representative, Mr. X, left by water this morning on a long journey.

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IB El|f dnka happy without these fine things if somebody would only show they love me. Oh, why must he come now?” She was overcome with emotion and the words had seemed to rush out panic stricken from her lips and tumble over each other in her desire to relieve her pent up feelings. She glanced up appealingly aud repeated once more ‘‘And tomorrow he comes home.” ‘‘After a moment she added, “And, Harold, he must never know this. Never know how happy I’ve been with you. We must part. Yes, it’s tomorrow he comes. Oh, why must he come now?” She fell forward again and the keys gave out a little agonized shriek as they felt her weight upon them. To Mr. X standing there by the open window listening to this confession, to this outpouring of emotions and heart yearnings, it was all as a horrible, horrible nightmare, which even his practical mind could not cope with and which chilled his very existence; which seemed to put its somber fingers in his throat and stifle his breathing. He wanted to tear himself away, to shriek, to gather her in his arms and call her back to him. Now he was impelled almost to springing upon that creature before him and kill him as a hot wave of wrath would sweep over him, now he wished to fly in cold terror from the scene. That sharp note which came from the piano seemed to waken him to realities. He gave a start backward, but a vine near the window caught him by the lapel of the coat and held him. He remembered in that subconscious way that they had planted that vine together just after their honeymoon and the remembrance maddened him. He tore it loose and fled from the scene. He ran, ran, ran. He did not know where. At last he seemed to fall from exhaustion and lay upon the ground. How long he did not know. He tried to persuade himself that it was all a dream, a trick of the imagination. Perhaps he had gone mad and had only imagined it all. He pinched himself to see if he were really awake. No, no, no, how could such a thing be? Once again he looked up to the starlight heavens, but this time with a soul which seemed crushed beneath. This time the sky seemed to be made of wrought steel and shut down to the very earth. Now there was no heaven above it. All was enveloped in a vast, boundless void of misery, of which his heart was an atom. So the hours of the night passed. At three o’clock in the morning an old man found himself walking down the asphalt pavements of the Central yards. This old man was a certain Mr. X, representative and manager of the Bonell Honeymann corporation’s business. At a turning a reporter met this old man, but In the shadows hs did not see a face grown gray in a night.

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20 U4|p (Ioka QJnUrgp franks BJutnifrrii f ailiinrk ELL, Sybil love, I quite agree with you there; that old ‘hayseed’ leaves tonight to stay, but we’re down to bedrock, so to speak, and —how’re you going to work it?” ‘‘Disturber of our peace depart, Ere’n tho’ it be with a broken heart; If again your form shall rise in view. We’ll douse you good and your sweetheart, too; Or again you appear as gay as a lark, We’ll paddle you good and quit the sparking,” sang the class poet gaily from her seat on the divan. ‘‘Oh, if we only could.” Mildred laughingly drew closer into the circle, warmed up to her subject. “For I declare If it isn’t a shame! Just tell me of one time when we’ve planned the use of the parlor when that great ‘lubber’ didn’t get there first.” “There, there, honey,” came the gentle rebuke. “Is it possible you’ve forgotten the time he had the ‘rheumatiz,’ or the time he got caught in our fly paper? Land sakes! I shan’t, for what did Joe do, but send me all the way to the office to mail a note of explanation, cause she was laid up worrying” and, seemingly by reflex action, a saucy nose turned up at the thought. “To think of stealing that room, and on tonight of all nights, too, when we were planning our spread; and all the sugar coating in the world won’t make it consistent or right,” wailed Blanche. “Just look at that clock. We’re supposed to occupy that room in half an hour, and there he sits as cool as a lobster! What is there—” “Girls, Ann, Blanche, Sybil, where are you anyway?” came in muffled tones from the doorway. “Oh, there you are; you just can’t imagine, we girls ran over early with our cakes and stuff, and—there you’ve guessed it —yes, sir, right in on them! He was sitting with his chair propped back against the wall, and the genial expression of his face was so like that of a ‘Cheshire cat’ that it brought to my mind two little verses taken from ‘Alice in Wonderland’: ‘How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spreads his claws.’ “You’ll have to see it for yourself to appreciate it— and that makes me think, have any of you girls a long hat pin? Good, then come along, there’s no time to waste, and we mustn’t talk. But we’ll fix him!” Only a few swift directions from Marjorie were needed. Very quietly and systematically a stack of chairs and oil cans hastily brought from the basement were piled high, blockading the doorway, and nine flushed and excited faces beheld it with nods and smiles of satisfaction.