Mansfield High School - Manhigan Yearbook (Mansfield, OH)

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The Poet J. W. Ferree His dreamy soul, transcending, oft obeys A hidden power within its mortal throne. But still he loves to tread untrodden ways Triumphantly alone, yet not alone. Bewitching fancies mould for him much mirth; Entranced, they oft fulfill his fleetest whim, While every blessed product of the earth Offers itself for comradeship to him. He sees a message in the shim’ring star; Some prisoned truth within this solitude Of under-currents of the Things-That-Are, Where doubts and discontent dare ne ' er intrude. He finds much wisdom in the growing tree; It whispers secrets of celestial power. He often is the rival of the bee That deftly woos the tender, fragrant flower. When near the rippling brook he kind beguiles The secret of its smoothly chanted rhyme. Upon his youth, upon his age he smiles Why mop? The soul lives in Immortal Time. So when content he drifts from earth at last. This visitor to mortal dust, it seems As tho he kept a sacred tryst and passed This world ' s soul-phase toother dearer dreams. page twenty-four

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Wireless M ANSFIELD HIGH SCHOOL is running over with students of great promise, among whom is one Chauncey Gates, who owns his own wireless station. The senior class this year has on its roll many who are destined to be¬ come great characters. There are the poets, musicians, scientists and philosophers but only one disciple of wireless telegraphy. His name is Chauncey Gates. Chauncey knows more about batteries, coils and amperes than any other genius in the school, with the exception of the old boy himself, and is the only operator up to date who can translate the raps of the wood pecker into Morse. There has been some talk of establishing a government wireless station in Mansfield and if such is the case Mr. Gates, who has already filed his ap¬ plication will probably be assigned to the important office of operator. Below is an account of the Marconi student ' s activities in his own words. C. V. Gates At the request of Prof. Hall, principal of the High School, I will give a brief outline of my work in the field of Wireless Telegraphy. I had always been interested in the various means for electrical com¬ munication, so after working for some time with wire telegraphy telephony, my hobby changed to the study of wireless. Nearly three years ago I de¬ termined to construct an outfit capable of receiving messages sent out by stations hundreds of miles distant. Knowing nothing but the general principal of the subject at that time, my first efforts brought only disappointment. The first instruments were crude and inefficient, as well as unbalanced and out of tune. Constant work and hard study finally brought out the defects, while better instruments were procured. Then when every part was correctly adjusted, I began to hear from a score of commercial and ship stations. But I could not read them as they were sent at what seemed a terrific rate of speed. “Practice makes per¬ fect, and by lots of practice they at last became intelligible to me. At the present time I can hear and read messages sent out by nearly all the large stations within a radius of eight hundred miles. Cape Hatteras, N. C., and Cape Cod are heard with ease. Mt. Vernon, Columbus, Delaware and Bucyrus amateurs who own large stations often send me as many as three hundred words at a time. On April first I completed a powerful transmitter capable of sending out electro magnetic waves at least three hundred miles. Now I am in a circuit of stations strung all over the state. We talk to each other with perfect ease, and you may be sure that mine is a pleasant occupation for evenings at home. page twenty-three

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Modern ‘Hermann und Dorothea’ Marguerite Eichelberger 1 ‘Zounds”, said Jack Gould, “I’d been there long ago if that magneto would work right. It’s getting dark and a storm’s approaching.” By ‘there’ he meant the country estate his uncle had willed him. His Uncle Hezikiah had been rich and eccentric and had never been seen or visited by Jack. His decease was the cause of Jack’s present situation. The shades of darkness were deepening and the startling nearness of the storm induced Jack to strain the machine. His directions at Hereford had been the largest house on the right side of the road —indeed, he hadn’t seen any very large house yet. “Guess I’ll hurry a little”—his engine missed fire several times then altogether, the car rolled quietly to a stop. “Thumpin’ Jupiter, I’m in it now.” The rain began to patter around him in the dust. He could see nothing and the rain put out his matches. The lightning was uncomfortably close and he resolved to seek shelter. Several hundred feet down the road he caught a glimpse of a house in a bright flash and ran towards it, bumping heavily into the lamp of an auto, totally smashing it. “Confound it!”-a flash of lightning showed the hood up and the car empty —“Huh, bet they’re down too.” The house was directly opposite; judging from his last view, and he was soon knocking a large knocker. No answer. With the impetuosity and boldness appropriate in this necessity or get wet, he pushed the door and entered. Doubting whether to advance or remain at the door, for the house was perfectly dark, he caught a tremulous feminine voice -“Are you one of the people that live here?” “No” said Jack somewhat confused, then picking up courage—“Pardon me, but I just came in from the rain.” Lighting a match he discerned a very beautiful girl, of beauty he had always dreamed of, and for the first time in his life his heart throbbed with love, at first sight. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but my motor just broke down and I ran in out of the rain, for no one answered my knock.” The match burnt his fingers and lighted another with which he lighted a candle on the mantle. “Why, I’m in the same predicament. My chauffeur has gone back for another car but I’m afraid he won’t come thru this rain, I wonder where the owner of this house is? No one was—what was that?” A low wierd sound came to their ears from somewhere in the house. It was repeated. The girl turned pallid and weakly whispered: “The house is haunted!” “Oh no,” said Jack, “perchance someone is hurt or sick. We’ll see if we can find them.” page twenty-five