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Page 8 text:
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6 Oak, Lily and Ivy. There is something in what he says, maybe. Dio mio! Who would risk one’s life for wealth ? Not I, soliloquized Antonio, the blithe little Italian. Well, what’s it about? questioned the elder Bronson. Evidently some fake tale he’s heard from the spirit of his grandfather, or some such remote old duffer. Ye gods ! Imagine that ghost of a man ever possessing a grandfather! Do you know I believe he must have been on the earth when it was created, and will stay until its end, answered his brother. And then Hans, the stolid, astonished them. If I thought there were a place where one could find such riches I would go through Hades to reach it,” he said slowly as he leaned forward and looked into the fire. A chorus of laughs was his companions’ reception of this unlooked-for speech from their slow-minded partner. I guess it would be Hades, all right, that you’d encounter if you endeavored to wrest such a fortune from these devils. Why, man! They are without equal in cruelty. They are the most bloodthirsty wretches on the globe. And these jewels are evidently in a temple and say, do you realize what that means ? Priests, who are half crazy fanatics, guarding the place day and night. You don’t understand what you’d be up against, said the junior Bronson. Uh-huh, was Hans’ unsatisfactory answer. Let’s turn in.” So they turned in and the next day, as no one mentioned the incident, each concluded it had been forgotten. But Hans had not forgotten. There was a girl back in the Fatherland who waited his coming; but he could not go to her un¬ til he had riches. It seemed a cruel bit of fate that somewhere in this God-for¬ saken country jewels lay idle that meant happiness and joy to him and the shy little maiden away off in the Fatherland. He brooded over this thought for a week or so. Then one evening while the sun was sinking in a glow of red he went to Airah. Tell me, he commanded, more of the place where wondrous jewels are; where people go but twice a year, and from whence no white man has ever re¬ turned.” And Airah told him. They are of high caste, master, and none of another caste dare go near. Even their servants go not with them. There are six families and for two cen¬ turies, legend has it, they have worshipped at the ‘White Temple.’ Once a dragoman saw it. He saw the cavalcade enter, but he was mortally wounded and returned home only to die. He said wondrous gods were about and a score of priests to guard them. He said the eyes of the gods were of jewels the like of which he had never seen for they glittered and sparkled as does the eye of the snake. Ah-but it would be paradise to possess one of such stones!” Airah, would you go with me to the ‘White Temple’?” asked Hans; “My master! was all the trembling Airah could say. “Is it far? How many days’ journey? “My master forgets. It would mean death. “We might escape-we might. Will you go with me ?
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Page 7 text:
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OAK, LILY AND IVY VOL. XXXII. MILFORD, MASS., OCT., 1915. NO. 1. Published Monthly During the School Year by the Pupils of the Milford High School. Board of Editors : Editor-in-Chief, Ina T. Nelson, ’16. Assistant Editor. Corona Blaisdell, ’16. Business Manager, J. Reed Kimball, ’16. Margaret Grady, ’16. Joseph Bruce, ’17. Fred Clarridge, ’16, Helen Lebossiere, ’1C. Michael de Filippis, ’16. John Murphy, ’16. Beatrice Battles, 17. Helen Mead, ’17. Edmund Welch, ’17. Subscription Rates : For the year, 50 cents. Single copies, 10 cents. Address all communications to Oak, Lily and Ivy, Milford, Mass. Entered at the Milford, Mass. Post Office, as second class matter. The White Temple They were a merry little party, this group of explorers. There were four of them: the two American brothers, the little sharp Italian, and the big jovial German who was the delight of his companions. He was full of fun, and this coupled with his talent as a ventriloquist made him a valuable addition to the party. They were travelling through India; and thus far they had learned sev¬ eral things of importance, although they had not been fortunate enough to dis¬ cover any hitherto unknown spots They had learned that all through India caste ruled. A man must die as he was born; his sons must follow his profes¬ sion and absolutely no hope of bettering themselves was held out to them. This oddly assorted little party also learned that many things happen in India and pass unquestioned, that in other lands would eyoke much comment. For in¬ stance, frequently people disappeared and never was a clue found to their dis¬ appearance unless it were in the gossip, half colored by superstition, of the ser¬ vants. One evening as they half dozed around their camp fire the voice of Airah, the chief of servants, came distinctly to them through the silvery silence of the evening. And none but they and their priests have gone there and returned. And they go but twice during the year, and then they carry precious stones—ah, wonderful, indeed, are the stones they carry with them. I have heard my grandfather tell that in his day an emerald was taken there that was the most perfect of its kind in the world. Only six families have given, but they have given stones that would purchase the whole world. Ah, but I would that I might possess one of them.” His voice trailed off into the silence of the night.
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Page 9 text:
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Airah threw himself prone on the ground with his face towards the setting sun, and after a few minutes murmured, “I will go, my master.” That night two shadows glided from the camp leading behind them one of the white donkeys so common in the land. “I have shoes with me that have hollow heels-you see ? In them we might hide the jewels and no one would ever find them,” explained one of the shadows to the other. “My master is clever,” was the answer. Six days later at sundown they reached a small hill. “Beyond there,” said Airah, pointing to the hill, “lies a broad stretch of land and in its midst is the ‘White Temple’.” He spoke in an awed voice and his tone, as his voice broke the wonderful silence of the departing day, filled Hans with a vague fear and made him more reluctant to continue the undertaking than he would have cared to confess. But he shook off his misgivings. “How may one approach the place?” he asked. “There is a small grove near it, according to the tales, where one may hide until an opportune time for entering. But oh, my master, that time will never come, I fear. Let us go back.” Hans cursed roundly. “Go, if you choose. Do you think I have come so far for naught ?” Trembling, Airah spoke. “Then, if you will go on, let us await the dark¬ ness. Then we may creep to the grove-but the gods help us if we mount this hill, and a flat plain meets our gaze.” They picketed the donkey securely. Hans hid the precious shoes in his coat and thus they awaited the approach of night. Fate was against them. The moon rose clear and bright and a light almost as penetrating as that of the day illumined the whole place. They waited as long as they dared, and then cautiously began the ascent of the hill. The height gained, they were able to see what lay before them. It was as Airah had said : a great stretch of land with no trees except a small grove that was near a huge white spot. As their eyes grew accustomed to the sight they distinguished the sharp outlines of an immense temple. It was all that Airah had heard. No sound disturbed the silence of the night and gaining confidence they worked their way towards the temple. They were about twenty yards from the main entrance when Airah with a half-suppressed pioan turned to Hans. “The gods have punished me lor my greed. Death is upon me. Fly, while there is time,” and pointed to a dart about two inches in length that quivered in his throat. Hans recognized the fateful thing, a poison-tipped arrow, almost minute, yet meaning certain death. There was still no sound—no noise to tell whence the dart had come. Unmolested, Hans supported Airah in his arms and undisturbed they await¬ ed the approach of death. Hans vaguely wondered why he were not killed, but about him there was nothing but silence.
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