Grimsley High School - Whirligig Yearbook (Greensboro, NC)

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12 THE SAGE traitor to his mother? It seems that all nature was still, awaiting the decision, and Carl felt that his heart would beat out of his body. A cold sweat broke out on his fore¬ head and he trembled so that he could hardly stand. Then like all men he turned to the only one who could help. “Oh Thou, who died for all men,” he prayed, “show me the way.” A moment later he raised his head and opening the door went in. “Herman,” he whispered. In the dim light he saw the man turn and look toward him. “Damn you,” growled Herman, “what made you come? Don’t you know they’ll get you?” Carl heard the words but the ugliness of the tones made no impression on him for he had risen above them and his eyes were shining with a high resolve. “Her¬ man,” he said, “the door is open and no one will know until morning. Go quickly.” Herman stood quite still for a mo¬ ment and at that time he reached the height of his man¬ hood. “No,” he said hoarsely, and his voice trembled with his desire, “no, I will not go. I have chosen my work and I alone must pay the penalty.” Then Carl began to talk, to plead for the mother waiting in America. “Oh, Herman,” he almost sobbed, “it will kill her, kill her, and it is almost too late now. Hurry! Hurry!” Unconsciously he had taken hold of his brother’s hand and was drawing him to¬ ward the door. Outside all was excitement. Everyone was running to and fro. There was an air raid on, but inside the two men had heard nothing but Carl’s low voice. They were almost at the open door now. Hark! What was that whirring noise? The next second they felt a teriffic explosion and they knew no more. Slowly Carl opened his eyes and tried to see where he was but something warm and sticky was in them and ' he could not. He wondered dully if it were blood and if so where it was coming from. He wanted his mother too, and it seemed to him that he would give everything he possessed

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THE SAGE 11 tion on his face. The little squad marched on and Carl sought a place where he could be alone to think. What should he do? It was his brother, his brother, and he was to be shot in the morning. Suppose they should select him for one of the firing squad. Dear God, suppose they should! What would he do? Could he shoot his brother, even for the sake of the “Cause?” Swept away in an instant was his disappointment in Herman. He did not see him in terms of an enemy but only as the “big brother” of his boyhood days. He knew that some way he must free him. But how? He was on guard duty that night but that would not help him unless-. Just then an orderly came up and informed Carl that instead of the regular sentinel duty, he was to help guard the spy. This was his chance and he must succeed. Carl went on duty promptly at two o’clock that night and many and complex were his thoughts as he did so. Drearily he took up his watch to endure as well as he could the struggle raging within him. The minutes dragged like white heat. What if in his attempt to escape, Herman was caught? Then his sacrifice would be in vain and there would be two lives lost instead of one—Herman dying as a spy, he as a traitor. A traitor! Surely God would not let them think him a traitor. He who had given up everything to come and defend his country’s honor. And yet, if he did this thing he would be shot as a traitor to America. Oh, it was too much to ask, he could not go thru with it. But then how could be face his mother knowing that he had de¬ liberately allowed Herman to be killed? He knew that he would blurt out the whole story when she asked him if he knew any of the particulars of Herman’s death. He could not look into those trusting eyes and lie. In his imagina¬ tion he saw her look of love change into one of horror and a shudder ran through him. Finally he knew that he must make his descision and act quickly if Herman was to have time to escape in the darkness before the next guard came on duty. Which should it be, a traitor to America or a

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THE SAGE 13 do. What had he been saying about her and to whom? Was do. What had he been saying about her andtowhom? Was it—Herman- Yes, that was it, Herman. Where was Her¬ man? Was he making that queer little noise we had been hearing? It sounded directly to his left. Oh, if he could only see. Clumsily he lifted himself on his hands and drag¬ ged his mangled body toward the sound. Yes, it was Her¬ man for he could feel him in the darkness. After much fumbling he got his arms around Herman’s neck and snug¬ gled up close. It was good to have someone you loved. “Dear God,” he prayed, “forgive us all.” Then his head fell back and the two brothers went “West” together. THE SEASONS. ' Tis Spring— And the world is budding glory. From the depths of winter hoary Merges; and the leaves all dressed in brightes green, With softly murmuring chatter are seen Moving in the wind. ’Tis Summer— The flowers, decked in brilliant hues, And birds, carrolling the glad news, Are happy; tiny girls in colors gay, And little boys the livelong day Play on the grass. ’Tis Autumn— The flowers have laid aside their blue, And donning their dresses brown in hue,