Marquette University High School - Flambeau Yearbook (Milwaukee, WI)

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The Hilltop At tho foot of the hill a young prospvctor l1alts For ho choosos his path, but full mindful of faults Slowly falls on lzis hnovs, in the swoot morning brcozo. i Then lifts up lzis mind and his hoart-God! Plraso! Through a rift in the clouds tho sun lrroales out And srattors its boauty in the canyons about, ln tho heart of tho prospoctor takes its abode, And he trods on anow-o'or a boaton road. Long docs ho labor, porsozfrving and wofl, His hvart grows proua', at its might doos it swoll, lVhat looms in tho distanco? A towering frag? l'Vhy,-wlly, O will, do your footsteps lag? Tho lilarh roptilo glittors and glidos along, And whore, vain youth, whoro is your song! ln tho dark of tho night, in tho thifk of the fight, From the polo star our God sends His ethorcal light. lVith tho last yellow beam of tho fading pak moon, Footholds arc found in tho ominous rorle. Upward ho mounts with a frm stop and truc, lVatvhing tho sun as it mounts in the blur. Tho summit is won! His 15110 soul is lifoarlzod Hy tho trials of tho King, but his goal is roarhcd. Now hc stands on thc frostand his work ho surzfcys, Rough roads, woodod ways, but his hardship ropays Now ho loans o'or tho brink, and his hoart may woll sink At thc infinite span and tho minutcnoss of man, liut ho falls on his hnoos in loarning's pure brooso, Thon lifts up his mind and his heart-God! Ploaso! Through a rift in tho flouds God's gran' liroales out And showers its lilossings on the truo and dowout. In tho mind of tho conquoror though wide hc roam lVill monzorios lu' rootrd of lllarquotto,-his own. EDWARD L. METZLER, 8 41

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2553 .r :ff Z 'K uc .ffl Marquette University High School Milwaukee VV1scons1n X mfg, 1 I FLAMBEAU I ' 1 J S, YOLUKI Ii YII COM M ENt'EIXlIiNT NUMBER 4 The Desert Saint James P. Kegel, '26 IIAD been sent by the editor of the Iivening Mail to interview a certain Mr. Cradler, who had made a for- tune in prospecting. Ile was the owner of the famous Desert Saint mine, and had recently moved to our city. Up to this time the old prospec- tor had been very silent as to his past. Ile was known by the newspapermen to hold secret a very interesting and curious story. It was the ambition of every reporter and editor of the coun- try to get him to talk. Accordingly I went, one line morning, to the quiet hotel in which he lived. It was situat- ed in the eastern section of the city overlooking the lake. A few minutes after I had sent up my card I was called to a plain room, on the third floor. Mr. Cradler came forward as I was announced and shak- ing hands with me waved me to a seat opposite to him. He pushed a cigar box towards me and lighting up his favorite pipe remarked that to stop our pestering he would tell me the long sought for story. Between puffs from his corn cob, he told me the following strange tale: Well sir, it was back in 1898, when the story really begins. At that time the land was still pretty wild and the Indians were still chasing around 9 loose. I was prospecting at the edge of one of the American deserts hoping to find a rich pocket. One night in September I worked till it was quite dark, for I thought I had found real dirt. I had laid aside my tools and was cooking my supper, ---I can still hear that bacon sizzle-- when I heard a faint cry for help. Too often I had heard the same callg that i f a starving and dying comrade. I'ut- ting aside my skillet I rushed out into the desert. A short distance from camp I found the worst looking bit of liuinanit-,' that I had ever set my eyes on. I carried him to my lean-to and laid him on the blankets and in the light of the tire took a good look at him. Ilis clothes were as dirty as could be and torn to -ribbons. His beard and hair were long and matted and full of burrs. His skin, what I could see of it, was burned a deep brown, and was stretched like parch- ment over his bones. It was scratched and lacerated in many places. From his left shoulder there still protruded a part of an arrow shaft, telling of an escape from a cruel death. His lips were purple and cracked from thirst. I knew he could not live long, but gave him all the comforts I knew. Towards morning he gained enough strength to