Lincoln High School - Lincolnian Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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vAg': A 'f-'VV' ' fx 'Nagy-' Y . ' bjj, . ' THE EDGE OF THE WOODS A Sketch in Pen and Ink by Fred Vinson

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A rf' LITERARY SECTIDN R. VV.

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i 0 hs mrulniem COMMENCEMENT 1918 A Journey Into the Future A TRAVEL IN MY EASY CHAIR And I looked into the future, I. I HAVE TO GO HE other day, as I was passing the Professofs house, I was hailed with a shout, and looking around, saw the Professor himself, garbed in a pair of faded blue overalls, a rough shirt, open at the neck, and no hat at all, with a spade and hoe over one shoulder, come striding toward me. Well, Peter, he said to me in his clear, good-natured voice ias he put down his spade and hoe. I guess you take me for a farmer, don't you? 'You didn't know I was raised on the farm. ' I like the Professor. I have not .known him for more than six months, -but we are already fast friends, and the more I know of him the more I admire him for his sincerity in every- thing he does, for his higness and un- selfishness, but most of all, for his patriotism. He has a boy in France. He has two boys at the training camp and another not yet old enough to go. Their mother has the same unselfish- ness and patriotism that I like him for. I like them all. As we were talking, the Professor rested one hand on the low picket fence, and held the other out in the direction of the lawn. l'm going to spade up the grass and plant beans, he said. He talked for some time about his far as human eye could see -Tennyson. plans for his garden. He talked with the genuine enthusiasm of one who loved the work. Gradually, however, the conversation shifted to other sul:- jects, for the Professor is a philoso- pher, and his mind cannot run in a narrow little channel. Peter, he said, laying his hand on my shoulder in a friendly manner characteristic of him, you will be thru school in june. What do you intend to make of yourself? What are you planning to do in the fu- ture? Well, in a way, I know, l said slowly. I haven't spoken to any- one about it, because I haven't very clearly planned it out. l'm not going to ask you what it is, the Professor said. He looked up toward the sun. It's getting a little warm in the sun, now, he said, Iet's get into the shade. He drew me into the shade of the house and we sat down on the porch. Have you ever lived on a farm? he asked me. For a short time, I answer. I like the country. I lived for a whole summer out on a farm, during har. vesting time. We harvested every- thing from cherries to apples. I was raised on a farm, he said, hut I did not like it then. He gazed ahsently at the ground, totally lost in