Lancaster High School - Mirage Yearbook (Lancaster, OH)

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she exclaimed, “I’d just bet the last custard pie in this shop that that's from “Pinkey.” At this, Mrs. Smith smiled, and “Pinkey” felt a cold shiver go up his spinal column. Mrs. Smith sat down on a stool and fanned herself, while lizzie stuck a stick of tutti frutti gum in her mouth, and began to chew vigorously. ‘‘What d’ye want me to do first?” she asked of Itfrs. Smith. “Well, you better wash them prune dishes,” said the Madam, “their gettin’ kinda dirty.” Lizzie accordingly lifted the condemned prune dishes from the shelf, and as she did so a dust stained letter fluttered from the shelf to the feet of Mrs. Smith, who picked it up wcnderinglv. “Why, here’s a letter for me,” she exclaimed. “1 wonder how it got up there.” She drew out the contents and as she read the first page a look of amazement spread over her face, but as she turned to the second she suddenly hurst out laughing. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” she cried. “Them kids thought they hid play a joke on me, and I never got it till today, Ha! Ha! Ha!” and she left the room convulsed with laughter. “Pir.key” crept out from behind the counter quaking with fear. There was something terribly wrong: what did she mean by “those kids”? And what did she mean by “joke?” Nervously he picked the letter from the floor and looked at the first page; it was just the same as when he had seen it before. Then he turned to the second page. “0, cruel Fate! There, before his very eyes, on that accursed second page, in inch high letters stood two words— APP.TL FOOL! “Pinkey” gazed dazedly in front of him, then sat down weakly on the stool. “My goo’ness.” he gasped. The End. A ©rue Alitor On one side of the ocean a tyranical monarch believing firmly in the “divine right” of kings: on the other side a liberty loving people, with the hatred of despotism and the love of freedom instilled deeply within them: and between them was being carried on a great and mighty struggle, the Revolutionary War. Day after day, and month after month, the Colonists were losing or winning battles, but each time gaining strength and courage, while the red-coats were gradually losing their confidence and easy assurance, but not their determination to win. Far back in the mountains, overlooking a narrow valley, was a small cabin, surround- ed by tall trees. Within lived a mother and her two sons. They were very poor, like most mountaineers, but managed to raise enough corn and vegetables on their small hill patch upon which to live. The father had been dead a number of years, but bravely and unweanly, the woman had toiled to keep and raise her sons. She had succeeded, but in the struggle her rugged health had failed and she became an invalid, devotedly, if at times unskillfully cared for by the two boys. The elder at this time, was nineteen years old, stalwart and strong. The younger was seventeen, a slight delicate youth, on whom the care of the mother and the house- (9)

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you’ve had experience in the business, I think you’ll be just the man for the place.” Thus “Pinkey” obtained his position. It was about three weeks after “Pinkey” had first come to Mrs Smith’s restaurant. He was behind a counter washing glasses one morning, when the postman came in and left a letter on the case in front. Leaving his work, “Pinkey” took the letter, sat down on a stool and gazed at it. It was addressed to Mrs. Smith, but was unsealed. “Pinkey” felt tempted to open it; the more he looked at it the stronger the temptation grew. Fi- nally he opened it and drew out the contents. There were two sheets of paper and the following was typewritten on the first: Chicago, 111., April 1, 1915. Mrs. Ezra Smith,— Dear Madam: As your uncle’s lawyers we have found it necessary to write you that he has just died and has left you ($30,000.00) thirty thousand dol- lars. Here the writing on the first page ended. “My goodness,” ejaculated “Pinkey” as he was about to turn to the second page. Just then he heard some one coming, and thinking it was Mrs. Smith, “Pinkey” quickly pushed the letter under a stack of prune dishes on a shelf nearby and when Lizzie came in, “Pinkey” was at his usual place, working as hard as ever. That afternoon he asked permission of Mrs. Smith to go on an errand, and she prompt- ly complied, for she was truly smitten with “Pinkey.” “Pinkey’s” errand led him to a small shop farther down the street where three golden balls hung just above the door, swajung in the afternoon breeze. Here “Pinkey” hocked his watch and invested the six dollars thereof in a second handed imitation diamond ring. Here his errand ended. That night “Pinkey” was in his room, writing a letter. It read like this— To Missus Smith:— Roses is red, Violets is blue; If you want me, I’ll marry you.” From your affectshunate, PINKEY. He gazed at his poetic proposal with becoming admiration, then pondered upon this undertaking. He had always said before that it would mean his finish if he were mar- ried. but that was only idle talk, he argued to himself, and besides what about that thir- ty thousand dollars, which only the lawyers and himself knew about? With this optomistical view, “Pinkey” dropped his six dollar ring in the envelope and started for the postoffice. CHAPTER III. Monday morning, “Pinkey” was unusually early at the restaurant. On this day, he was to receive his answer. If Mrs. Smith wore the ring the answer was yes; if not, it was no. As he was busily working in the kitchen, “Pinkey” heard someone enter the front door, he espied Mrs. Smith, and on the third finger of her left hand sparkled a six dollar diamond ring! With a sudden nervousness “Pinkey” watched her. Just then Lizzie entered, late as usual. As soon as she saw the ring she uttered a cry of delight. “Ain’t that scrumptious” (8)

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hold duties naturally fell. The other worked in the woods and fields and did all the man’s work cf the two. At iast came the news of the great rebellion, and the men and boys responded to the call with magnificent enthusiasm, and undaunted valor. Eager and ready to sacrifice their lives for freedom, their imagination took fire and carried them unhesitatingly to the front. And so the older of the two mountain boys, fired by the spirit of the war, left the little shack in the clearing, the towering ranges, and the deep, quiet valley, to join the Continental Army. Early one morning, with a farewell and God speed,” from his mother, he swung off along the dewy trail, which led over the far foot-hills to the east. Far above, on the crest of the mountains, whither he had fled at day-break, stood his brother, with clinch- hands and convulsive features, watching the tall frame until it became a mere speck in the distance and al last disappeared over the summit o? the sun-bathed ridge. His stronger brother had gone to save the liberty of his country-men, while he, the weakling had been forced to remain at home, to care for his mother, and perform the irksome duties of the house and field. Not that he did not sincerely love the dear invalid, but how, the love of country rises above everything else in the hearts and minds of the youth. Bitterly he cursed liis frail body and the fate that kept him tied at home. For a long time, he struggled with the hate and envy cf his brother, and resentment of his mothers helplessness, which strove to drown the feeble protestations of his loving nature. At last however, he gained control of himself, and went back to the cabin, deter- mined not to show his grief to his mother. But mother eyes are sharp and keen and although she said nothing to him about it she knew how wretched and miserable he was. Days and weeks passed, and as the news of the Continental defeat or victory came back to the mountains, thru some occasional straggler, the boy’s heart was mutinous and his humiliation complete. Then too, the work in the patch, to which he was un- accustomed, added to the increasing care cf he invalid was almost too great for his weak constitution; he grew pale and haggard and at night, tossed, sleeplessly in his loft, too tired to rest. He formed the habit of climbing at the close cf day to the top of the mountain, and there, as the setting sun illumined the bare rocks and forest-covered slopes, with its last red glow, he would gaze unseoingly across the foot-hills, toward the east, in mind and spirit engaging in the war, which racked the entire country. His patient mother never questioned his absence, but as on his return, she saw his light- ed features and restless manner, she knew, that in his imagination, he had been fighting for the Great Cause. But the shock of her elder son’s leaving, and the worry concerning her younger, proved too great a strain for the little mother, and daily she grew weaker and weaker. Alarmed at this, the boy. for a time, forgot himself entirely in his efforts to restore her fast-going vitality. But to no avail. At last one evening, he realized that he would soon be alone. Grief-stricken, he knelt by the old bed ar.d buried his head in the coverlet. The mother laid her hand upon the shaggy head, and spoke scarcely above a whisper: “Don’t take on so, honey. I’ve been lots of trouble for you, and you’ve been a good boy to me. 1 know how you wanted to go to the war, and I’ve played at nights that I'd be taken so you could go, for I’ve been no good all these years. And now—that I am leaving you can follow Jim. and fight like a man.” “Oh, mother, mother,” sobbed the boy. “I can’t bear to lose you. I didn't mean you to see how I was feeling about the war. I couldn’t help it.” And a paroxysm of grief shook his slight body. (10)