Mondovi High School - Mirror Yearbook (Mondovi, WI)

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Carefully shutting: the door Elizabeth followed the little animal not noticing the bitter cold. Tired from the chase she turned to go back. Far in the distance the little log cabin could e seen. How tried and cold she was! Her golden head was devoid of. covering. Her hands were bare and her stockings thin. She took a few steps towards home, and then sinking into the deep snow she made no attempt to rise. One pretty little pink cheek was on the cold snow. How nice and warm lie was! What beautiful things she saw! A little white angel was calling to her. She tried to reach out her hands, but they were stiff. At last she was fast asleep in the sleep that knows no awakening. Beau tifulf comforting Elizabeth had gone to comfort the angels in heaven. The next day dawned as beautiful a« the previous one. Outside everything was peaceful and happy. But within the cabin a broken hearted mother, father and sister mourned over the little body of Elizabeth. Mr. Grant had come home at sunset and followed the child’s tracks until he had found her frozen little body. Broken in heart and spirit, he carried her back to the cabin, where every attempt was made to recall the sweet departed life but to no purpose. Their darling was gone beyond the help of man. to the home of God. Sobbing an though her heart would reak, Nellie put her arms around her Mother and Fathe and brokenly said. “It is God’s will.” It was indeed the will of God. THE LOST KENTUCKY BLUE Charlie Whitworth 20. those traps down here?’’ “I’m after that deg that was lost up “Hello. Bob! You know a funny thing happened when I was down in the wamp fishing the other day.” “No. what was it ?” “Well, I had pretty good luck, so I stayed until after dark. and. as I was coming up through the thickest part of the swamp I saw' a strange looking hound. He looked as if he might be part wolf; but let me tell vou. Bob, he was a beauty. He just took one look at me and disappeared. I believe he would take a leg oft a person Just because I am a Negro you needn’t laugh at me. Bob.’’ “I wasn’t laughing at you Tom. I wms just thinking of your opinion about the dog. I’ll bet tw'o to one that he is that Mg Kentucky Bine that wa? lost up North two years ago. His owner put a large bounty-on him: so everybody’s trying to catch him. and he has g own very cunning. His owmer is now dead, but the bounty still lays on the dog. He was ueh i good hound that the old man wanted him caught and left with his son. I believe Tom I’ll start tomorrow.’’ The next morning. Bob packed his kit, took plenty of food, threw his tent over his shoulder and started for the swamp. After finding a dry place, he pitched his tent, and made h: n etf comfortable When Bob cooked his meals the e was sent out a sweet odor, that a hungry animal could not resist. Several da'-s na«sed without result : but the next night he saw the beautiful creature surveying him at a safe distance. Every night Bo’ would see him in the same manner, they were becoming friends very fast. A few days later Bob met a young man of about his own ace who h »d large steel traps slung over his shoulder. “Hello, there: what are you doing with north a year or so ago. Have you seen anything of him?’’ “You don’t mean that you are going to try to catch him with those steel traps do you? Why. they would break his legs.” “What do you care, you are not the one I’m trapping.” Bob was of a medium size and had that wireframe of a good athlete. He was an easy going fellow and took well with his mates. The stranger was a good deal larger, but Bob was going to stand for his rights. “I suppose you're after him too. by tne wav you act.” “Yes, but I’m not using such means as you are.” They both were snapping fire and started to approach each other, but when a’ out to grapple, there was a dark fo m shot out from the bushes striking the stranger square in the breast, knocking him over. The stranger fell with such force that he lay quite still and the dog looked up into Bob’s face as if to say, “Now I’ve done my part, you do yours.” Bob rubbed his hand along hi- silkv back; then he turned and w-ent back to his tent, the dog following close behind and lying down in the doo»- he watched the stranger disappear through the thicket. Bob wrote a letter up no’tli telling the old man’s son the manner in which he had caught the dog and how they had come to • e such good friends and an answer soon came back enctosing the bounty and telling him to keen the Kentucky Blue for it would not pav to separate the companions. Bob put the big hound at the head of his pack and he certainly made good in that position.

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THE WILL OF GOD. By Evelyn Blum It was a beautiful winter day, cold, bright, and clear. The sun shone on the now, making it look like a diamond sheet. In tiie hazy distance the high, white-capped mountains loomed majestically toward the sky. A little log ca’ in, crude and bare, but with a homelike atmosphere surrounding it, !tood at the base of a high mountain. Its roof was covered with snow, glistening like myriads of silver stars. On one side was a small window over which was nailed a dried bear ckin. Near the little cabin was a small barn, a chicken house and a machine shed. The chickens snuggled together contentedly. Everything had an appearance of happiness and peace. Within the house perfect joy reigned. The mother was sitting near a cheerful fireplace, knitting a pair of warm mittens. The father W'as shelling corn for the chickens. Baby Elizabeth with golden curls was sitting on a large w'plf-skin rug, playing with large red and' blue blocks. Through a small opening covered with oiled paper the sun streamed into the neat, cozy, little room. How' peaceful and happy the three inmates of the little cabin were! Mrs. Grant instinctively glanced at the small alarm clock on the neatly-papered helf. “Why. Thomas,” she exclaimed “It is ten o’clock already. Nellie will be home about an hour. It hardly seems true that after two years’ a’sence she will be with us again. Only for one short month, ves. but it will be a happy one I am sure. How' much she will have grow'n. She was onlv sixteen when she left and now' she is eighteen.” Do you suppose she remembers me, Mamma? I don’t.” Elizabeth shook her golden curls, her large innocent blue eyes on her mother’s sw'eet face. “Of course, dearie, Nellie has remembered us all. even though she wras so far awray.” Elizabeth was a beautiful child; indeed. wouht be difficult to find one more beau-Mfui She w'as five years old. but wdth an ’ntpHect of one eight years old. Her -oldon miHs fobbed about her face as she ♦u» ned he head. He large blue eyes, her lonr curlv lashes, her pink and white chrek couhi hardlv be matched. She was thn only child left at home since Nellie heor}e to B rn to attend a fashionable hoarding -chool. Petted she w'as but not polled. To her parents, she meant more than anything on earth. Through the dreary winter days she was a ray of sunshine. When crops failed in summer she never failed to cheer her parent!. Nellie, too. meant much to them, but she had been away two years and they had grown accustomed to her absence; but it w as impossible to be without Eliza eth. The time passed slowly for the three patient waiters. At last. however at about eleven o’clock sleigh bells w'ere heard and Mr. Grant, rushing out into the yard, saw bin daughter, a tall, graceful, girl stepping to the ground. He beamed with pride as he rushed forward and. taking her in his arms he cried. “My daughter.” “Oh. daddy: she sobbed and for a moment neither could speak. They walked silently into the house. Mrs. Grant, with tears in her eyes held her daughter lovingly in her arms. Baby Etizabeth came next and the big sister caught her in her arms and gave her such a sincere embrace that EMzaveth knew that indeed Nellie had not forgotten her and w’as glad to see her. “Oh Mother,” Nellie said in a sweet low voice, “I’ve been so lonesome without you and father and baby. I’ve often wished I were at home. Mrs. Van Dyke has been most kind to me and I’ve met delightful boys and girls, hut I could never forget my little mountain home.” Mrs. Van Dyke was the lady w’ho w as paying for Nellie’s education. She had seen the girl when Mr. Grant had taken her to Bern with him. Mrs. Grant was an old schoolmate and dearest friend and Mrs. Van Dyke wished Nellie to be educated with her daughter. “We’ve been lonesome without you, Nellie. It is going to be hard to let you go ’ ack again. Soon father w ill have enough money and we can go to Bern to live and t en you’ll be with us always,” replied Mrs. Grant. After dinner. Mr. Grant prepared to go to the store for the weekly supplies. Nellie consented to take a nap with Elizabeth while Mrs. Grant knitted in a large comfortable chair. Soon a drowsiness overcame the mother and she slept, dreaming sw’eet dreams. They had slept about an hour when suddenlv. Elizabeth, hearing a slight noise outside, sat up in her little bed. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and then putting on a thin coat went to the door and saw a beautiful red fox. “O, isn’t that sw'eet. Come here foxy,” she called softly, but the fox upon seeing her scampered off.

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HIS DOG. Edith Melrose, ’20. They were up in his room then. He was saying goodbye to the old familiar surroundings; to the snap shots and gay pennants on the wall; to his rack of guns and fishing rods and many other things that he had cherished since he was a little boy. Friskey, his little wirv-haired Fox Terrier, lay on the bed with head between paws and let her eyes rove from one object to another as he touched them. Presently he picked up his little “Twenty-Two and smiled as he remembered the first squirrel he had shot with it. The r!:'n was hanging there now. fie had tanned it himself rnd wa ’lost proud of it. Friskey jumped from the bed. She too. remembered that fl'st hunt. He was eleven and she was only a puppy but she had chased the squirrel and had almost caught it. when bang—would sh ever forget it— the gun had gone off and the squirrel dropped just in front of her. She had ve1 pod and run terrified to the home, but Davie bad whooped with joy ever his game. Davie was nineteen now. and having en-1 cd the day before he was waiting for his call. It would probably be a day or two before he would go and he was mak-frg the most of his time. He hung the squirrel skin back In place and fondled his gum one jjffer another. There was the old musket his grandfather had carried in th« rivil War and the “Winchester” his uncle had had in the Spanish American War. He was of fighting blood alright. Th re al o was his Colt revolver, his latest possession, and with one eye closed, he squ{nted into the barrel to be sure that it was clean. Presently he started to walk about the little room and pausing before the mirror ,%e danced at his uniform. He was not vain, but a uniform was so novel to him. and down in hh head he knew he looked handsome in it. But Frisky didn’t like it. To her it held some mystery, and because she could not comprehend the things that we-e happening these last few days she o-ried about it. She would run ‘to him end pew at hn leggings and look up yearningly into his face. Then he would take her on his shoulders and run about with her and. with paws tightly clasped about his neck, she would forget her troubles for a while and be filled with as much ecstasy as a dog can be. just to be near him. Then again he would sit in a chair and with Frisky before him on the floor, he would salute and say “forward march!” in a deep voice quite unnatural to her. She would thump her stubby tail against the floor and with ears cocked, wait for a chance to spring into his lap. “Aw come off ole top” he would say and pat her head caressingly. He loved to call er “ole top.” they were such good pals. Outside an April shower was doing its best to make the world feel sad. Davie was none too happy anyway in spite of the fact that he had been able to join the Field Artillery and to get in with a crack Battery with men the most of whom had seen service before. He hated to leave Frisky behind, for one thing he knew he would miss her dreadfully, but he didn’t rcaMze how much she would miss him. “Come on Friskv. let’s go down stairs or wc’M bo weeping here in a minute.” he said laughingly as he placed her on his back. The next morning the message came that he should leave for camp in the afternoon. Mr. Burke, Davie's father, drove the car to the door. Just as they were leaving the yard a white st’-eak came racing toward them and Friskv ? ounded on to the running bo »rd she had never dared ride there before, but now she clung tightly lest Davie should get out of her sight. She barked wildly when the train rattled out of the station taking Davie away. She even followed it for nearly a mile and then when it got out of her sight, she came limping back, dejected and dirty, a pathetic-looking little creature. In the days that followed Frisky was lonely. Her best pal had left her and perhaps she would never see him again. Weeks passed and one dav a letter came f' om Davie saying that his regiment was moving. He didn't know where they were go ng he said, but he hoped it was toward New York. When the telegram came telling that Davie was severely wounded and Mrs. Burke cried. Frisky had curled up in the big leather chair and cried too, a most hum-like little whine. And now after two years he was home, red oh such a greeting as Frisky gave him. As the train rolled into the station Davie stood on the platform grinning from ear to ear. Frisky saw him at once and with one bound she cleared the platform and came within an inch of being run over by the train. She ran about wildly and pumped up and down yelping continuously, little qhort yelps of pure joy. She licked his hands standing straight up on her hind legs. Oh it was a big day for Frisky the day Davie came home. That afternoon, with the warm, April