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

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THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 25 THE MYSTERY OF THE CHATEAU. All day long the July sun had been beating down mercilessly until even the shrubs and flowers seemed to be bending before his will. But it had not wilted the ardor of Jack Mandor, that versatile young traveler, always on I the alert for the new, the unique, the mysterious. For years he had wandered over the world seeking out-of-the way places, being supported by the income from a fund left him by a mysterious father whom he had never seen. As he approached a beautiful but uncared for chateau, surrounded by a score of stately elms, hemlocks, and willows, he stopped and turning to his guide said, “And well, Pierre, to whom does this chateau belong?” “Eh bien, monsieur, it’s a long story but”-And here he told of old Monsieur Frontignan who had many years before inhabited the chateau but who had suddenly disappeared leaving no trace behind him and no provision as to the disposal of his worldly goods. The rumor had spread that the house was haunted and he had been spirited aw r ay. Two years later a newly-wed couple, too sincere and trusting to harbor any suspicions or superstitions in their hearts had taken up their abode in the beautiful chateau. Only two weeks had elapsed before the young bride suddenly died, apparently suffering from no malady, af¬ flicted with no disease. Her husband followed her to the grave ere the tolling of the chimes had died away in the hills. From that day the chateau had remained deserted. “Well,” said Jack, with a loud burst of merriment, “guess I shall take a chance in living in it and ferreting out the spooks.” “Ah non, monsieur! you are mad. You will be killed!” “Oh, no, Pierre, don’t worry about me. I haven’t trained my muscles on the gridiron for six years for no purpose. It will take more than a spook to carry me off!” “Bon Dieu! Bon Dieu! Monsieur is out of his head,” cried out the hor¬ rified French guide and throwing his hands in the air ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. Chuckling with delight Jack proceeded to investigate. After gaining an admittance through the window he fearlessly lighted a match. A strange feel¬ ing came over him. The room was dark, damp, and gloomy. The house was admirably furnished but the air was heavy and oppressive. Nevertheless, Jack immediately made himself at home. Two w r eeks later Jack, still alive in spite of the fears of Pierre, returning from a little stroll around the magnificent grounds adjoining the chateau in the hot sun was mentally wishing for a glass of clear, ice cold water when he noticed in a little arbor of climbing roses a moss covered well which] he had never before seen. As he approached it the air seemed to grow oppressive and a sickening odor assailed him. For a moment he drew back sniffing curiously but being something of a detective, or rather having always hoped to be one, he approached the well and looking down into it saw nothing to make him uneasy, nothing to warrant such an odor. He had just tasted a rather small amount of the water when with a suddenness which made him start he heard the sound of a bell secreted some¬ where in the house. For hours Jack sought to find its location but finally gave it up as useless, feeling fatigued in mind and body. It was not long before his head began to feel heavy, his pulses lagged, and his nerves throbbed. He tried to pull himself

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24 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. The pupil without imagination is practically hopeless as an educational pos¬ sibility. Imagination is a thing that must be developed early. The boy that has read “Robin Hood” and “Treasure Island” and “Swiss Family Robinson” has enriched his imagination wonderfully. Later he should read Poe to get a grasp on mystery. Wells’ books on other planets and the future are a wonderful stimulus to the imagination. Consider the unread man. He has no background. He sees only the obvi¬ ous; he cannot see ahead or beyond. He is in truth ignorant for he knows not the way of others. Let us examine the man who has read. He has a broad back¬ ground of useful knowledge. He has a vivid imagination to give originality to his thought. He has a polished style and manner. There can be no controversy. Love of books is an emotion which can be praised more easily than described by the intellectual. Boyd Lewis, 1923. ON WORK. Work is the birthright of the human race. It is not a curse, but a bless¬ ing; for happiness is the crown of work. The value of an object is generally measured by the amount of work required to obtain it. Things that are easy to gain depreciate in value, and we lose our desire for them. When I was little, I had a great desire for a particular kind of candy. All the money that I obtained, either through work or coaxing, I spent on this candy. One summer I had occasion to visit my aunt who has a small candy store. I was allowed all the candy that I wished, and I became so sickened of my favor¬ ite candy that I have not tasted it since. Similarly wealth and idleness do not bring happiness, but pall upon one. Discontent, planted in each human heart, is only satisfied when we work and strive to gain an end. Every day we read in the papers of people surrounded by all luxury who are bored with life even to sacrificing that boon bestowed in them by God. Work heals all wounds. We have not time to think of sorrows and troubles when we are working. I was talking one day to a young girl who worked hard in a shoe factory, and I asked her if she did not become tired of her life, and whether she did not wish to change her lot with someone who had more luxuries than she. She answered, “We all long for luxuries, but still I am happiest when I work hard¬ est, for I have not time to be discontented.” Unless one has been at the bottom of the ladder it is impossible to realize the joy of ascent, and the higher one climbs, the more glory one wins. A heathen philosopher is quoted as saying, “Time and I against any other two.” The coming ages are ours, and we all desire to make something of ourselves. This will require hard work. Longfellow expresses this thought gloriously in this quotation: “Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.” Blanche Rooney, 1923.

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26 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. together but his strength of which he had always been proud had deserted him and he fell to the floor in a swoom. It was morning and a beautiful one. The sun streamed in through the windows as Jack rose unsteadily to his feet and muttered through clenched teeth, “I’ll solve this mystery or die in the attempt” and with a weary smile added, “and I’ve made good progress toward the latter.” On examining the ground near the well he found a button which under pressure caused a bell in the chateau to sound. Jack determined to search the well and after it had been drained al¬ most to the bottom crept down its slippery sides holding his handkerchief over his nostrils. Suddenly, with a cry of surprise and fear he beheld the body of an old man half rotted away amidst shining pieces of gold and silver. His brain was in a whirl but taking courage he rubbed his eyes to make certain he was not dreaming and touched the hand which lay nearest him and watched it dissolve into dust. All atremble he crept up the well and into the house where he began his search for papers which would disclose the identity of the dead man. Finally he found a book labelled, “The Personal Diary of F. M. alias Monsieur Frontignan.” After reading a few pages the mystery was solved. Left alone in the world, deserted by his wife, Monsieur Frontignan had hidden his wealth in the well and lest it should be stolen had secreted the bell in the chateau to warn him of any attempt at robbery. But on a visit to the well he had suffered from an attack of some disease, perhaps a shock, and had fallen into the well, where he had rotted away with his treasure, polluting the water and poisoning the young couple who had innocently partaken of it. A strange feeling came over Jack as he read on and on. The records in the diary set his brain in a whirl. He felt himself aging years in minutes. Then with a strange suddenness the truth of what he read penetrated into his mind and heart and with a heart-rending cry of despair he threw himself face don- ward on the floor crying, “Oh, father, why did you have to beam your burden alone, afraid even to show your name! Oh, Father, Father! Why!” But he did not continue ; the shock had been too great for him in his weak¬ ened condition. He felt his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, his legs and arms stiffened, his respiration grew heavy, his eyes closed and in a moment he had joined his beloved father in eternity. Inez E. SanClemente,, 1923. TREES. “Essays are written by fools, like me, But only God can make a tree.” Of all the beauties of nature none seem more conspicuous to me than the tree. From the earliest days the tree has served as a shelter and protection for mankind. Adam and Eve found comfort in the shade cast by the trees of Paradise. Robinson Crusoe found shelter in the branches of a lofty tree from the hungry beasts of the island celebrated by Defoe. Washington found a suit¬ able place to give commands to his troops under the famous elm at Cambridge. I, too, find pleasure in pausing in a grove of trees and lying underneath their shel-