Morris High School - Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

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111 A Gift ilirnm 61121 consolately with his nosi pressed against the window pane, looking out upon the lucy, bleak stieets p was -1 may w ien the brightest found it hard to keep cheery, one of those occasions when Second Prize in Qui Vive Short Story f,'nnlr'sl N an Orphanage on B- Street, a child sat dis- ,, , ' It . 1 I ,, n , every available game was played over and over aglain, when each kindly mother iracked her brains to devise some means of bringing back the smile to the little face she loved so much. It had rained and rained and showed no intention of stopping. The small sufferer at the window was a handsome little fellow of seven, blaue-eyed, yellow-haired and sturdy, with the cherubie expression of childhood. But now that baby face wore a scowl. A shout from the inside, and a bevy of little parcntless children crowded round him with a Tum, Lawry, we gonna pay a new game, and l gonna pay too. from a lisping. cherry- eheeked baby, and an t'Aw, come on and play. I bet you ean't win me, from an older boy. , But Lawrence Bryan waved them all aside with the imperi- ousness of a king. It was plain to be ,seen that in spite of his tender years he was their leader. t'D6ii 't bother me nowl' spake the young chief. You play without me, old pals, I gotta tink about sompingf' A few tried to remonstrate but he was obdurate, and soon the determined little boy was left to himself, the procession going out in disappointed silence. A But children all the world over quickly forget their momen- tary diseomfitures and soon they could be heard shouting and laughing with childish glee. Not so our little hero: he sat in deep thought, occasionally expressing his sentiments out loud in a ehirping little voice. Like so many others this little boy hungered for the love that he eould not remember: the love that is highest, purest, most precious, the love most often visited by sacrifice, the love that every good man holds sacred above all -mother love. i'Yes. l gonna wun away and find a mama, to kiss me goodnight, every night, like the dear sweet mama in here, Qtingering a raggedlittle bookj. That night, the rain abating somewhat, a little tigure could be seen, tightly clutching a small bundle. stealthily creeping away from a place where childhood is spent in a way far dif- ferent from the way it should be spent. mAh , with a heart- 33 -f' 41- A... . ,.i. -..aa H+, ,.

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F... , V i F 5 Q li i E l if . THE SUB WAY SPECTER the horror that was written on his countenance to those about him. In that condition he entered the loealg in that condition I saw him, and was lilled with horror at the sight. 4'One hundred and eightieth street-last stop l bawled the guard sleepily. I stretched my limbs and arose. 4' What a strange fantasy IH I thought' Mosiis NAGELBERG, 5-5 MQ Zero W'il7L apologies to Robert Louis SI'0'Uf'7lS07l' 5 I have a little zero that goes into class Q EZ' With me, . ....! And what can be the use of him is more than I can see, He is very, very tinyg but he means a Whole, whole lot, And when they say he's valuable, Why that's a bunch of rot. The funniest thing about him is the Way he likes to grow- Not at all like nines and tens, which are A always very slowg thi For he gets so big and round sometimes- large as a rubber ball A! F But he never gets so little that therels none ,, M J of him at all. I ' ' , He hasn 't got a notion, of how eareful. he must be, For he queers most everybody, especially he queors xx ii! Q . 8' w-L' n....f1:?5? Ti-sigl .iid ,Hmm H f ,L .ft gh VITA? 'Q Q92 ff Q' an X Q 1 Illia! EI II if 19 II16. Q ,ff He's always hanging round me, 'pears he likes me I e . best of ally But I shiver when l see 'im, I want none o' him ' I ' at all! One morning, very early, this idea eanie in my l head: X I planned to banish zero, so I jumped right out Silt' of bedg A I I studied every morning and I studied every night, 1 ....--v .----- E .... . Until zero married number 1, now everythings j'Qf. all right. V AL. NAXVASKY 32

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A GIFT FROM GOD felt sigh of relief, the small adventurer left behind him the ground where he had spent practically all his life. Thus little Lawrie started to look for a new life, instinctively bending his steps toward the country, trudging steadfastly on, hope rising high in his little heart. One hour, two, three passed, the houses grew farther apart, fewer people were to be seen, and still the child kept on and on. At last, nearly blinded by mud, sleep and tears, he sat down to look around, not knowing where to go, and crying miserably, hopelessly, wishing he were in his hard bed at the Orphanage. But he started up again as his eyes fell upon a gate standing invitingly open. Looking only for a place to sleep, the child painfully dragged himself up and, once inside the grounds, found shelter in the sweet-smelling barn close by. No sooner had he nestled into the soft hay than his eyelids drooped, and sleep, the great soother of sorrow, came, and made him forget, in childish dreams. Next morning when Jonas Higbie went into the barn he came upon a strange sight. Huddled up in the soft hay a child was lying tear-stained and muddy, sleeping soundly. VVords failed the spectator and all he could murmur was, Hlling bust it, how in the world -But soon, regaining some- what his self-possession, he called loudly, Mary! Mary! His wife, a sweetfaced delicate little woman, with large wistful eyes, came running at the summons. VVhy, J onas, what is the matter -but following his glance she too saw the little sleeper. Mary, cried the farmer, HI-low do you think he could have got in here? Whose boy is he? following question with questionj But the little woman, with tears in her eyes, was gazing at the child with a Wonder- ful expression, murmuring incoherently, How like little Jim- dear, dear little boy-looks just as old as my own little one wasf, Awakened by the wondering scrutiny, Lawrence gazed sonic- what wildly around him with his big blue eyes. Then realizing his strange surroundings he smiled, and in a voice that be- witched the motherly little woman said, Hello, I came to find a mama ltause I haven it any. Is heaven very far from here? At this farmer Jonas, whose eyes were also wet now, said in a husky voice, '4Mary, it's a gift from God. A little child has come to us instead of dear little J iininief' And, indeed, that night when Lawrie said his prayers close to Mary and John, thanking God for his new mama and papa, Mary with a choking in her throat felt it was indeed a gift from God. 4 VERA TELL I 3