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

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THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 23 She heard a slight rustling sound and she jumped from the chair. She searched the cellar and the attic without result. Returning to the parlor, she noticed a huge dead limb which brushed against the window. ‘‘Oh, that old thing is always bothering me; I think I’ll have it cut off,” she said to herself. During John’s absence, which had already lasted twelve days, Mrs. Wade did very little work. She sat by the window and thought of the work she had made John do. She wondered if he had really minded it. She chanced to look at the window. It was covered with black marks as if a man’s finger or animal’s paw had rested there. On the floor beneath it there was a track of black marks which led to the kitchen. In the kitchen several doughnuts were missing and the plate was covered with dirt. Under the table, looking dejected and forlorn, was her Chow dog, Ming Toy. She refrained from scolding him because she realized that he had been neglected. A month of sorrowful days was endured by Mrs. Wade. The errands which she had assigned to John had never been done; the rugs had not been beaten; the cellar had not been cleaned; a pile of rubbish remained ready to burn; a dozen windows needed a washing; and a certain desk was full of unpaid bills. The dead limb still brushed against the window from which the black marks had been removed. When Mrs. Wade was drowsing on her thirtieth sleepless night, a ter¬ rific crash broke the stillness of the June air. She sat up suddenly, and then she jumped from the bed. She looked out of the open window. The worth¬ less dead limb had finally fallen. But then she saw something which made her stand still with horror. Quickly she put a wrapper about her and hurried from the house. Two months later at the same window from which Mrs. Wade had looked on that eventful night in June, a figure sat in an armchair. When Mrs. Wade entered the room, the figure spoke. “My leg has improved so well under your care, Mary, that it is diffi¬ cult to realize it is broken.” “I’m glad I can help you, John. It’s time I did something besides scold you. Now you’re better, please tell me everything that has happened,” Said the wife of John K. Wade. John sighed and said, “It’s too long to tell at one time, but I’ll tell the main facts. When you put two mats in the hall for me to use, it was too much for any man to stand. So I opened the window, climbed out on the old limb, jumped to the street, hired a taxi, and then went to my brother’s cottage in the country where I evaded the police for the whole month. I came home once. You know about that from the missing doughnuts and black marks. I didn’t mean to stay home when I came in the other night, but that limb fell when I stepped on it.” John held a pipe in his hand during his narration. A limb rustled against the window. Startled. John made a quick movement, and the ashes of his pipe fell to the floor. He looked at his wife as if expecting a scold¬ ing. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly and put her hand in his. Dorothy Phillips, ’31.

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22 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF lOHN K. WADE. ( A Short Story.) Nature with all its forces has played strange tricks on mere men. Men have gone down to sea in ships and never returned; airplanes have crashed to the earth, forced down by freaks of nature; men have disap¬ peared forever from the sight of their friends; tornadoes have ruined whole towns. But what trick of nature could make a man disappear from his own home in broad daylight? Mrs. Wade related the facts of her husband’s disappearance to a group orf weary policemen. “I left my husband in the parlor for about five minutes, and when I returned, he had gone. I looked through the whole house, but I couldn’t find him. The yard is very muddy and footprints could easily be seen on it, but there were no prints. He has not left the house, and he’ is not in the house. It has baffled me. I hope you can find him. He has never left me in this manner before.” What were you and your husband discussing before his disappearance?” a policeman asked. ‘T was telling him a few errands which he might do tomorrow,” she answered. ‘‘Did you quarrel about the errands?” the policeman then inquired. “No, indeed! We never quarreled about errands,” she said. The inquiry proceeded uselessly for more than an hour After the policemen went away, Mrs. Wade put everything in perfect order and swept the mud from the rugs. She sighed as she looked at the only chair in which she had allowed John to sit because of his greasy clothes. She pic- tured him as he had sat there reading the daily paper. Often when she had scolded him, he would smile at her with his brown eyes and push back his curly black hair as he thought of a suitable answer. He had not grown old as quickly as she had. Her blue eyes had already lost the glow of youth, and her brown hair was turning gray even though she was only thirty-five. She thought, “How could John have hidden in the house? I have searched it and the policemen have gone through it thoroughly. He didn’t leave the house because—but what’s the use of thinking about how he dis¬ appeared? I must find him.”

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24 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. THE HAND OF A FATHER. (A Short Story.) Philip Vernon rose from the green plush pullman chair, stretched his six feet two in an undignified manner for a Harvard alumnus of three days’ standing, and walked to the platform of the Grenville station. “Philip, dear!” his mother cried in sheer joy. He embraced her warmly and then shook hands with his father in a more reserved way. As the three rounded the corner of the station, Philip stopped in amazement. “Why, father, you’ve bought a new span of horses and carriage.” “Yes, Philip,” his father answered. “We bought them for you.” “Now that you’re home for good, Philip dear, we want you to have everything and be just as happy as any boy in this town,” said his mother. Philip shrank within himself. How could he tell them of the offer to go to India with the United Coffee Company? But he must do it before the night was over or he would never be able to tell them. “We’ve invited a few of your old friends in to-night,” Mrs. Vernon told her son as they arose from the dinner table. “And Mary Randolph will be with them,” his father added with a sly smile, but before you meet them, I want to see you alone in the library.” After Mr. Vernon had settled back in his chair behind the beautiful antique mahogany desk in his library, the bomb-shell came—as Philip felt that it would—although he had no idea of what it would be. “Philip,” his father began in a very serious and determined voice. “I am pi cud of you. You have proved yourself to be the boy that I’ve always wanted you to be.” He paused. “And for that reason I am going to take you into the business. We will form a partnership.” Philip stared. For a full minute the room was deadly silent. Then he began. “But, Father—.” “Now, no ‘but father’ about it.” “I knew you’d take it this way. Don’t tell me that you don’t deserve it and all that sort of bosh. It’s settled. You are now a member of the firm and you will soon learn the business. Even X A, j. n . l noAv you do. Say no more about now but tell your friends to-night, and tomorrow we will go to Lawyer Parker’s office and have the papers drawn up.” With this he walked from the room. How long Philip sat there he did not know. Life itself seemed to slip from him. The things that he had dreamed of were never to be fulfilled he thought with bitterness, and he could see nothing but a drab existence in Grenville for the rest of his life. He rose and went to his room. He took some stationerv from his drawer. He sat down at his desk and wrote: Grenville, Tenn. Mr. J. H. Mason United Coffee Co. New York City Dear Sir: June 19, 1900. I am very sorry to inform you that I shall be unable to accept the you offered me. An unforeseen happening makes it position in India that utterly impossible for me to accept. Very truly yours, Philip Vernon.