Malvern Collegiate Institute - Muse Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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THE MUSE anticipation of it. Uncle Paul, a crippled old man, disregarded and spoken of as slightly off his head by the rest of the household. also found an interest which made his lonely, painful days brighter. Extremely rich since his youth, he had devoted the prime of his life to purchasing rare editions of old books and ancient and mottled manuscripts. Engaged in this one pursuit, he had never cared for or sought the priceless thing which every person needs at some time of his life-true friendship. He had bitterly regretted this fact ever since twelve years ago, when a whole wall of shelves loaded with heavy volumes had collapsed upon him. leaving him with a partially paralysed side and frequent agonizing pains. From then on he spent the greater part of the time in his own private library, cut off from the rest of the house. Now, at last, he found in Barbara a spirit that humoured his whims, followed patiently his disjointed explanations about different books, or eagerly listened to the story of his adventures in gaining some dearly-prized volume as he held it tenderly in his trembling lingers. Evening after evening Barbara visited the solitary old man as soon as her duties were completed, and together they would discuss some book he had lent her to read, or laugh over amusing little inci- dents of that day. Evening after evening the weak voice would repeat, I can never thank you enough for all that you have done for me: one day perhaps I will repay you-who can tell? But Barbara would sadly look at his worn, patient face and the doctor's words would echo in her ears. Weaker and weaker, Miss Barbara: make him happy while you can. He has had a lonely life, with books as his only friends. Alas, there would be no chance for repayment, but his gratitude was ample reward for all she could do. At last one evening Barbara had remained only a few minutes with her friend. I am very tired to-night, child, he had said with a sigh, and when she left kissed her for the first time. All the next day Barbara's heart was heavy. as she repeated sadly over and over to herself. the short sentence Hung at her that morning: He was found dead this morning. He was found dead this morning. This unsympathetic statement had been made by one of the busy secretaries engaged to see to all the elaborate arrange- ments for the funeral. Returning with her little pupil from the trying funeral. through- out which Mrs. Cox-Richardson had uttered stifled sobs, while Helena had wriggled here and there, Barbara was told by the butler that the mistress wished her to go to the sitting-room in half an hour. During the intervening time Barbara's mind was full of busy thoughts and questions-what could she be wanted for this afternoon? Surely not to aid at any reception, for it had been announced that Mrs. Cox- Richardson would not be at home for a week. Had she done any- thing wrong, was she to be dismissed, or was it some reprimand for a little task she had overlooked? f35l

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i gg THE MUSE On the other hand. the clock in W31 leaps ahead at such a rate that Miss Muirhead is virtually robbed of that leisure in which to read The Globe. so enjoyed during her student years at Malvern. Therefore. I implore of you to help vanquish the unjust master who rules with the iron hand and, after the manner of the English House of Commons. to revert to the old reliable-the hour-glass. -W. H. BENNETT, 4B. BAB'S FRIEND HE Sznythes were in dire straits. Once they had lived in luxury. but suddenly disaster had sprung upon them. Mr. Smythe las he then termed himselfj had been completely prostrated bythe sudden bankruptcy of the company in which he held the majority of shares. :ind was unable to save even a little of his fortune out of the chaos. Earle Smythe. the eldest son. returning from college badly in debt as usual. found the family plunged in deep gloom and poverty. To :nake matters worse. his mother persisted in carrying out the extrava- gant receptions for her debutante daughter, Marie. Babs. a pretty, joyous little creature of sixteen. seemed the only one in the house- hold capable of facing and coping with the difficulty. ' With many a moan and grumble the Smythes departed from their fine house and surroundings and settled in a small suburban district under the more staid name of Smith. Day in and day out. Mrs. Smith seltishly bewailed the loss of her servants. receptions, gossip. et cetera, without the slightest thought for her sick husband. One day Earle. returning home and after an angry outburst in which he declared that he was sick of hunting jobs all day and listening to his motl1er's grumbles at home, packed his grip and left the house. Nothing more was heard of him until several months later. A rumour was heard of his marriage to some second-rate actress. Marie, regard- less of circumstances, tried to continue her usual routine of luncheons, afternoon teas, dinners and dances. Only Babs began looking for a position in earnest. After a week of tramping along endless roads and avenues to answer advertisements, she was engaged as com- panion-governess to a rich little girl of ten. Her qualifications-good education. speech and manners and a neat, fashionable appearance- won her this position immediately. Babs, having adopted the more demure name of Barbara, began her duties the next day and found them exceedingly tiresome. She now had to bear the same kind of treatment as her mother had so recently dealt out to their servants. Her charge-Helena Cox- Richardson-was a spoilt, exacting child and demanded every bit of l2arbara's attention and services, so that at the end of her long hours Barbara was thoroughly tired out and dispirited. But when she became better acquainted with her employers there was one thing that made her days happy and carried her through her tasks by the l34l

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TFL. M Uii so cc As she descended the stairs, Barbara heard a subdued hum of voices from the drawing room and wondered who could have called after all: then. opening the door, she entered the room and found it full of fashionably-dressed men and women. On seeing her enter, Mrs. Cox-Richardson rose and remarked to the man seated beside her. Here is Miss Smith at last: I believe we can begin now? With everyone staring at her, Barbara slipped into the nearest chair as the man spoken to rose, gathering up several documents. Instantly. with a shufiiing of feet and a clearing of throats, all attention turned in his direction and he began to read. Only then did it dawn on Barbara that this was the reading of Uncle Paul's will. But still she saw no reason for her presence, and was wondering Whether she was needed as a witness perhaps-she had never . . . and to Barabara Smith the sum of sixty thousand dollars and any of my books that she may wish to have. The precise voice broke into her thoughts with this amazing statement. Barbara glanced up startled. Had she rmlly heard that? It must be right, for everybody was again staring at her. and a sudden buzz of conversation swung over their heads. Through the monotonous reading of the rest of the will. Barbara was filled with gratitude for her friend. With dim eyes, throbbing throat and clenched fists. she recalled the sound of that patient voice saying. Some day I will repay you. He had really done it, and now she would be able to get Dad well again and give Mother a little more enjoyment. -M. PRICE. SHE TASTED PRAISE They gave the golden goblet of success, O'er brimming with the rich Wine of applause: She drank it all, and, filled with happiness, She rose among the stars-and knew the cause. All night she walked the clouds-the Milky Way Was made a scarf for her young shoulders proudg She let the stars by handfuls, as in play, Drip through her fingers-and she laughed aloud. And when, at dawn. on high Olympus' height, She watched the rose-mauve gauzes drift apart. The morning star, of purest silver bright, Came near, and left its light within her heart. -RUTH SHEPARD. I :su 1