Milford High School - Oak Lily and Ivy Yearbook (Milford, MA)

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OAK, LILY AND IVY. 11 by a turn in the river, and Jimmie’s journey came to an end. When the motion of the house ceased, the hungry wanderers started down stairs for something to eat, but were obliged to go back because the lower part of the house was filled with water. That lonely night, the exhausted child cried himself to sleep. The following morning the dog tried to persuade the child to go ashore, but he did not know how, for water still intervened between the house and dry land. The wise Kaiser knew they must help themselves and, carrying the boy by grasp¬ ing his dress in his teeth, he swam to land. As the dog kept on coaxing, the trav¬ ellers started to walk down the river. Two New York men travelling for their business firm heard of the flood, and thought they would enjoy the novelty of going up the river in a small row-boat to see for themselves the great disaster. While they were busy rowing, one of them noticed a large dog and a small boy on the bank of the river, and called the attention of his companion to this strange sight in such a lonely place. They called to little Jimmie, who was crying for his mother, and finally decided to take him in their boat while the dog followed them on the bank. Many questions were asked the child, but he could tell only that his name was Jimmie and his dog was Kaiser. They rowed up the river until they came to the stranded house, which they searched, but found no clue to the child’s parents. They determined to advertise the discovery of the child, but no answer came to them. So at last, Mr. Brown, one of the business men, decided to take the child to his wife in New York, because they were childless, and finally adopted him. In far-off New York, the little lad was cared for and sent to the public schools. He was always at the head of his class and was a leader among the boys of his age, enjoying all their fun, but yet never failing to do a kind deed to one in distress. After receiving his diploma from Yale, he entered the mercantile business of his foster father, who had become the head of the firm. James Brown, as he was then called, his own name being unknown, spent a year in his foster father’s business, but, as he found it uncongenial, finally decided to study law, a profession for which he was naturally well fitted. By the time he had spent several years in preparation, he was greatly in need of rest and decided to pass his vacation along the banks of the Missouri, his interest in that region having been aroused by the story of the manner in which he became a member of the Brown family. During his vacation, he made the acquaintance of an old man who had always lived in that locality. This new friend told him of the terrible flood of a quarter of a century before, and of the many lives that were lost. 1 he most touching story was of a baby three years old and a dog that were carried down the river in one of the houses that were swept away. It was thought that they were drowned because nothing more was ever heard of them. By this story, the interest of James Brown was rekindled, and he decided to visit the parents of the lost child to hear the story from their own lips. I heir story and the story James had heard Mr. Brown tell were so much alike that he sent a letter to his foster father, asking him to come and compare the stories. When James made his second visit to the house of Mr. and Mrs. King, he vas accompanied by Mr. Brown. All the facts in regard to the flood were duly com pared and these together with the few recollections of James, convinced them all of his identity. In that little home, there was great rejoicing that evening. On the following morning a company of four started for New York City. Mr. and Mrs. King made their home near that of Mr. Brown and James King, as son of both families, continued in his profession. Myrtle E. Whittemore, 11.

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OAK, LILY AND IVY. soft, sighing monotone sounded through the trees, mourning. In the woods, an owl hooted, and its cry was answered, farther off, by another long-drawn wail. The soldier’s face no longer showed pain, but instead, it seemed expressive of a joyous expectancy, as though he were dreaming of something pleasant—and the dark clouds faded from the sky; the stars, glowing, twinkling, came out and began their long march across the heavens. Night had fallen. Later, a surgeon came near the entrance of the tent, holding a lantern. He was about to pass on, but something in the soldier’s face held him motionless. He bent nearer, then suddenly straightened, called one of his men, and moved on. He was used to such sights now—anyway, it only meant another grave on the hillside. It is many years now, since the war ended, and the sun shines down on a land of peace. The waving corn stands where formerly the blood of armies drenched the fields; the long, white rows of tents are gone, and their occupants have joined the army of the dead. Peace, though, does not hold her sway uncontested—the trees still cast their shadows over many mounds. N ature has done her best; the grass waves evenly above them, and flowers blossom on their sides; but Nature cannot wholly efface and forget. The years pass above them, the seasons change, the white of winter becoming the green of summer; but through it all, they lie, inanimate, change¬ less, mute witnesses to war’s unending tragedy. —’ll. The Lost Child. There were not many settlers in the region of the King house along an upper branch of the Missouri River, but a mile above, there was a small mill and a clus¬ ter of houses near by in which the workmen in the mills lived. One day after the severe rains of an early spring, the dam of the mill suddenly gave way, allow¬ ing the great lake behind it to carry destruction all along the banks of the river, while it rushed onward to join the Missouri. It was on this day, that little Jimmie King’s mother had left him sleeping in his cradle, guarded by his faithful Newfoundland dog, Kaiser, while she spent a few moments talking with her nearest neighbor. When Mrs. King heard the rumbling and roaring of the oncoming water, she was not able to reach her home in time to save her only child. When the noisy waters struck the little house and tore it from its foundations, the dog, thoroughly frightened, set up a piteous howl, which awoke the little boy. Although frightened by the unusual noise, the child was not old enough to realize at first any real danger. But after calling repeatedly for his mother, and receiving no answer, he began to cry. The faithful dog went to him and licked his hands. This token of affection comforted him a little. The baby’s mother, seeing that she could not reach her child, fainted in the pathway, where, soon after, she was found by her husband, with the water rushing by within a few feet of her. The father saw his house floating down the surging river, but he did not know that his son was in it, until his wife told him they were childless. This answer proved true, for, after a long search, they found their empty house stranded on the river bank and no sign of Jirnrnie. As the house floated down the river with Jimmie in it, the people on the shore heard the cries of the dog. But even when they knew a life was in danger, no help could be given, because the house sped on its way so quickly. Jimmie trav¬ elled many miles that afternoon, and finally grew tired of the constant change of scenery. It was not until nearly night that the house was impeded in its course

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12 OAK, LILY AND IVY. The Senior Alphabet. A is the Alphabet made just for us. Prav read it through carefully, it runneth thus: 13 stands for Ball and also for Bill, An athlete among us who plays with a will; C, for our Carroll, with clear, level head, A critic of all that is done and is said; E), for the Dances we’re holding this year And also the Drama that soon will appear; E, for Exams that seem never to end; F, for the Faculty, each a kind friend; Gr stands for Gould, our best financier, Not Jay Gould but Charlie, the one we have here; H for the Hours that we dig and we grind; I, Ignorance that our teachers still find; «J stands for Jingles, a secret their source, The author some day will disclose it of course; K is for Katherine, bright little lass, Who ranks far above all the rest in the class. E, for the Languages that we translate And for the Low marks that too oft are our fate; M, for the Meetings we hold after one; N, for the Number by whom these are run; O, Orchestra, the delight of our heart, In public affairs it plays well its part; P, for our Principal, dear to us all, Who won all our hearts when he came in the fall; Q is the Question we know will be asked, When, reading these verses, you come to the last; R stands for Ralph with his dear violin, How great is the fame that he some day will win! S, for Dot Shean, a speaker of note, For whom at prize contests the judges all vote ; T is for Tommy, who’s not thin nor tall, But kicks all the goals in our games of football; U, for the Unmentioned girls in the class, Whose pardon we beg that we o’er them must pass; V, for our Virtues that all of us know ; W, Washington, where we don ' t plan to go; X, Y and Z are our future careers, Unknown to us now, but disclosed through the years. School IRotes. The Class Gift. On February twelfth, the one hundredth anniversary of the birth of Lincoln will be observed all over the English- speaking world. We are to contribute our share in keeping the memory of the great Emancipator fresh by public exercises,