Manchester High School - Somanhis Yearbook (Manchester, CT)

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S-OMANHIS 9 since you have no family. You've been there nearly a year now, haven't you? ' Mary remembered. A year ago . . . that was when the real Mary Roger had died-when she received the yellow paper that said Johnny was dead, a statement that she could never quite bring herself to believe, and when Pa died just a short time later of heart trouble. It was a tremendous task, trying to forget. but after all one couldn't come to life if one were to keep constantly before oneself the memor- ies of one's former life. How old are you, Mary? Ann asked, as she continued washing the dishes. I'll be sixty-ive in September, Mary an- swered. Ann laughed as she remarked, Why, that is old! .Mary hardly heard what Ann was saying. She always felt so strange at LoWell's. Some- thing seemed to take place inside her that she wasn't exactly sure whether she liked or not. I 'heard you were going to get married, Ann. She must say something or Ann would ask her whether-she were ill. I'll say I am, Ann answered proudly. It's only a week now. Billy and I have been en- gaged for almost two years. I think he is the nicest boy in Franklin. Honestly, Mary Roger, what do you think of him? Why, I think he's a very acceptable young man. But who is going to stay here when you're gone? The girl stopped washing the dishes and went nearer to Mary's chair. Now listen, Mary, she said in a hushed voice, don't tell this to a soul. I don't think anyone is going to stay here. Why! Mary exclaimed. You don't mean that Doctor Lowell has lost his money and Mrs. Lowell is going to do her own work? No! Ann replied. Don't you ever breathe this, but Mrs. Lowell and the doctor are go- ing to separate. Why! You don't mean it. They went to- gether for years and almost broke their hearts at one time because the doctor didn't have enough money to start a business. It can't be true that they are going to separate! . I wouldn't tell it to anyone unless I was sure, Ann said. They've been quarreling for several weeks now, and they hardly ever speak to each other pleasantly. Of course, they try to be good-natured when I'm around. The tears began to roll down Mary's cheeks. So this was how it was all going to end. I-Ier, eyes wandered around the cozy little kitchen where she had come to bring her soul to be nourished, but the kitchen was also to be lost to her. Mary thought it was time for her to be go- ing, so Ann helped her into her coat. U O U Doctor Lowell was interrupted in his daily perusal of the market by Ann's cries. Mrs. Lowell came rushing out of the other bed- room. What was that, Henry? Ann yelling about something. I'll have to see what it is. He opened the door and hurried down the stairs, with Mrs. Lowell in close pursuit..Ann was on the front steps, trying to support the unconscious body of Mary Roger. Ma.ry's face was white, and a bloody gash stood out on her forhead. Ann was crying and muttering something. . Oh, Doctor, Mary Roger fell down the front steps. I'm afraid she's hurt herself badly. Doctor Lowell knew Mary, because he had been her family doctor in former years. With the help of his wife and Ann, he was able to carry her to the upstairs guest room, where he dressed her wounds. I-Ie could not tell immediately just how serious the injuries Were. Mrs. Lowell helped to make Mary com- fortable and sat at the bedside through the night. l ' Mary began to mutter in' her delirium. Everything must die-potatoes and even love. Love dies quicker than anything else 3 the doctor and his wife for instance. They loved each other once better than all the world and now-.When I saw that a potato could come to life--I thought perhaps I could come here to live and work--and make my soul alive-. I wish the doctor and his wife could see 'that their life might still send out green shoots. ' It 'was Christmas morning when Mary awoke. Mrs. Lowell was bright' and happy. The doctor came in and put 'his arms' around Mrs. Lowell. . . if - Hurry and get well, he said. Billy has taken Ann away, and we thought that you would like to come here and keep house for us. ' 1 Do you think you would like it? Mrs. Lowell asked. ' , Like it? To work in a small kitchen again! To be with people who are happy! Why, here's my soul coming alive again!

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8 SOMANI-IIS -speak so tactlessly. Anyone could see the fellow was broke. Too bad! Jeffry left him and returned to his room where he sat down to write a letter to his sis- ter of whom he was very fond, but this did not absorb him and his mind went back to With- ers. Vaguely he remembered that Withers liv- ed in Williamsburg or something like that - not far from the Morton's summer home. A few minutes later Jeffry was bounding in- to the railroad station and demanding a round- trip ticket to the town where he had spent many summer days, ten miles from Williams- burg. Returning to the college he found Bob and during a rather stilted conservation he casually dropped the railroad ticket in front of him. Bob smiled as he picked it up. See you're going home after all. I don't blame you much , he said wistfully as he held out the ticket to Jelfry. No, I've been looking for somebody to give this to, since I found out I couldn't go home yesterday morning. Now if you were only go- lng home perhaps you could use it. As it is, lust throw it in the waste-paper basket for me, will you? D l if Q it As the train left the station, Jeffry stood on the platform and waved good-bye to Bob and chuckled to himself over the way Withers had changed hi mind so quickly and nnally allowed himself to be persuaded to use the ticket. At the Christmas dinner next day the dean beamed at Jeffry: Merry Christmas, .Teffry? Merrle t Christmas ever, sir, was the smil- ing reply. GREEN SHOOTS By Edna Kennedy, '31 Mary Roger preferred work to ldleness. That was the essential difference between her and those others. They were content to stay in the living room of the Home for me Aged and rock their lives away, reading or sewing. But after the meals were over, Mary went to the bright kitchen, a big room wtlh a stove that occupied one side. The kitchen was too large to be comfortable, and Mary often com- pared it to a small kitchen with snowy white curtains and shining pans, presided over by a neat woman who gloried in performing the domestic tasks that her home and family of- fered. p Mary always peeled the potatoes. She liked to do household tasks. As she sat there in her accustomed seat by the large table, she was often given to philosophlzing. Potatoes for ln- stance-their skins were withered, but there were always green shoots coming out. Looking at the potatoes Mary thought-if a potato dies and comes to life, so can everything else that dies come to life. And that was the thought that kept coming to her mind the day before Christmas. But this was no age for miracles. All the character of the former woman had fad- ed into something utterly incoherent-some thing that she had forgotten and was afraid to recall, lest recalling, she should have to stop and inquire the stranger's name. Her soul had become stagnant in this almshouse. Although night after night she lay awake thinking of the Mary Pa used to love. the Mary Johnny had cried for, and the Mary he had held in his arms when he left for the war, yet she knew that this Mary was dylng-al- lowing herself to dle without any effort to re- scue herself from the oblivion into which she was sinking. And then suddenly she made a supreme resolution. She'd come back to life! If withered, old potatoes could do it, why couldn't withered, old Mary Roger? She would go to see Ann. There was always life there. Ann, a slim, fairly attractive girl of eigh- teen, was washing the dishes ln Mrs. Lowell's kitchen when she casually looked through the window above the sink. Why! Who is lt coming up the path but Mary Roger! she thought as she went to open the door. Ann had always known Mary Roger, and-for the past year at least - had looked upon her as a pathetic creature who had had more than her share of the unfavorable vlcls- situdes of fortune. Now, as she put away her coat and hat, she wondered what the occasion of Mary's latest visit was. l Mary looked about the room. It somehow cheered and consoled her, it was one of the few things that did any more. It was good to be in a small kitchen again, even if but for a few moments-a kitchen where one could sew, darn, and plan the meals, and feel that there was something to look forward to with the be- ginning ot each new day. Having a kitchen like this would be t.he next best thing to hav- ing Johnny and Pa back again. We often wonder how you are getting on, Ann remarked, You're better oi! at the Home r gg I

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10 SOMANHIS THE CHRISTMAS GIFT By C. Rubinow, '31 Scene-The well furnished private office of Attorney A. E. Brown. Time-The day before Christmas. Characters: Attorney Brown--an elderly, successful- looking man. Miss Allen--a capable-looking young busi- ness woman of thirty-tive, Brown's secretary. A stenographer--a typical young typist. CMr. Brown signs the last of a large stack of letters and then, after consulting his memo- randum, presses a button on his desk. He smiles mysteriously as he awaits the arrival of Miss Allen. Miss Allen enters from another office, and she approaches Attorney Brown's desk, notebook in hand.J Atty. Brown: Miss Allen, being awoman, you ought to be able to advise me about what would make a suitable gift for my wife. Heaven knows, as far as I can see, she buys everything she wants, but there'll be war in camp unless I present her with some gift on Christmas morning. Miss Allen: Well-I think perhaps a new pocketbook might do-or perhaps some sort of a necklace. Really, I don't know just what she would like. Atty. Brown: All women like the same sort of things-think of something you'd select for your own Christmas gift. Surely there is something you want. Miss Allen: I think I'd choose a dressing gown, Mr. Brown. The new ones are ex- tremely dainty and good looking. Really, I think that would make an excellent gift. Atty. Brown: Don't know much aboutwo1nen's things, but it sounds all right to me. You may leave the office now to purchase it. Better get it at Gordon's or King's and charge it to me. Get something nice, now. Miss Allen tleavingjz I'll try. QExit Miss Allen. Atty. Brown resumes his work as curtain falls to denote the pass- ing of about an hour.J As curtain rises again Atty. Brown is seat- ed at his desk dictating to a stenograph- er. Miss Allen enters carrying a box.l Atty. Brown: How did you make out? Miss Allen Cplacing package on deskbz Well, I think that it will do. Atty. Brown: Sure that it's a nice one? Miss Allen: Well, I like it very much, myself. Atty. Brown frising and smllingbz Keep 'lt for yourself, then. I wanted to give you an especially llne present this Christmas in appreciation of the excellent and 'con- scientious work you did on the Byron case. I decided that this was the only way to get you something I'd be sure you would like. As for my wife, she always selects her own Christmas gift. CURTAIN THE DOUBLE BARRELED CHRISTMAS GIFT By James Toman, '33 This story is true enough. It sifted over from Ireland: Pat and Kate Malone lived, or managed to exist, in a mud hovel consisting of almost tour walls and a root, in Golway. One of the numerous persecutions was in full swing, and the people of Golway could have counted their shillings on the Hngers of both feet. Kate Malone had consumption, and Pat didn't even have that much. . . Pat, it's Christmas Eve. It's cold, too, but they don't put that on the calendar. An' there lsn't onythin' to ate in the house, nor onythin' to burn. It'll not be much of a Christmas for us, Kate. It could be worse, Pat. Ye've still got me. How long can either of us last, the way things is? I've got to raise money somewayf' Ye wouldn't steal it, Pat, nor ye cou1dn't beg nor borrow it. But I could earn it, love. The British gov- ernmint is obligln' that way, if you know what I mane. Ye mane ye'd be a dirty traitor and inform on a man that trusts ye? Ye're the only one that knows about him, Pat, an' ye wouldn't betray him. I know it's hard, but it's his one'-life against our two. I wanted to buy ye a Christ- mas box, Kate. But ye know I'm only slobber- ing. Go to sleep, now, an' I'll try to dig up some wud for the ire. ' She went to sleep, but not forlong. Icy hm gers dug into her lungs, and she awoke lin a spasm of coughing. Pat was gone. She looked out. A double row of footprints stretched down the hill and up the next toward town, where