Muncie Central High School - Magician Yearbook (Muncie, IN)

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sfiaezmg S' V! 01 3, Mei 0 1 M f,3'rv.'rl winter, had Mlnools Plleasant Plleasew EANETTIEVS day began with a disappointment. At the breakfast table her father announced that the big comic opera company, heralded all been held up so long by the snow storms that it had canceled its engagements altogeth- er. UOI1, dear! said Jeanette, I've even paid for my tickets! Being of the well known infant terrible variety, her small brother laughed teasingly, and Cin hopes of drawing tearsj re- marked for the thousandth time, Well you'll just have to grin and bear itf' Jeanette disdained a reply and When after breakfast she noticed that the dayls motto on the 'calendar was, Laugh and the world laughs with you, she half-wondered if Brother Tom and the calendar were not in league against her. Staring, or rather grinning at her from the opposite side of the street car as she went to school, Jeanette saw the lastest variation of the ancient cereal advertisement relating to 4'The smile that won 't come off. Jeanette was somewhat exasperated. HI wonder if everyone gets as tired of that ad. as I do, she thought, and turned to look out of the window. But there was nothing but snow and gloom outside, and the monotony became so unbear- able that her eyes wandered back to the grinning ad. When she reached school, after some delay, on account of the fresh drifts, she found on the bulletin board the announcement of an assembly, occa- sioned by the visit of a famous lec- turer. In the big assembly room Jean- ette listened at intervals between rev- eries of moody thoughts till she heard the lecturer exclaim with eloquent fer- vor, Ah, yesl It's the man who takes defeat with a smile, that will win in the end. Then she thought, Goodnessl How many more times will I have to hear that! and she heard no more of the lecture, being lost completely in her thoughts. Things did not go well at all in school that morning, and Jean- ette was glad indeed when it was made known that there would be no after- noon session. She determined, how- ever, to lunch with the Martins in their down town Hat, as she had promised and do some needed shopping before going home. Airriving there, she was received in the hall by the two small daugh- ters of the house. Dorothy, the young- er, immediately informed her with great pride, Oo want to heah Dotty's new piethe, don't 'oo? Me dot new piethe! Thwee 'ittle wules. Jeanette looked puzzled till the older sister ex- plained: She wants you to hear a little verse she has learned. Oh, said Jeanette, that's lovely, isn't it. Of course I want to hear it. So Dor- othy joyously proceeded: Thwee 'ittle wules we all mus' keep To make life happy an' bwightg 'Mile in the mornini, and 'mile at noon, But Jeanette had rushed out of the hall to find Mrs. Martin. Dorothy fol- lowed, running, with: hiAll, keep on 'milin' at night. VVhereupon Jeanette calmed herself enough to give the child the expected praise. After luncheon she excused herself as soon as possible, for fear that Dor- othy might insist on repeating the lit- tle stanza whose sentiments had be- come so strangely odious to her. Scarce- ly had she reached the street after leaving her hostess when there burst on 'her ear the exalted strains of a mov- ing picture show graphophone: 'l'Causc when you smile, love, The world will smile with you, - She hastily turned a corner to avoid the blatant staleness of the melody, and roticing a photographers sign, remem- bered her intention of having a picture taken. She went upstairs, and after the necessary re-arrangement of hat and hair, she took her seat in the ,pho- tographerls chair. From under his black hood came tzhe words, Look pleasant, please. Ten days later Jeanette was able to be moved to a private sanatorium where, surrounded by white walls and utter peace and quiet she slowly re- covered from the effects of that Look pleasant, please. Helen M. White.

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THE MUNSONIAN. 27 After a time Mary Ellen realized that she thought more of him than she cared to own, even to herself. She was greatly troubled when this unwelcome discovery forced itself upon her. She thought of how it must hurt Frank Lester, should he hear of it, she thought also of how true he had always been to her, he had never given her even the slightest reason for mistrust- ing him-and now, now, what was she doing. She pitied herself and won- dered what she should do. She knew that she loved Ralph Graham, and since that 11ew love was burning within her, she was not so sure that she still loved Frank as she had when they had parted four years ago, when Mr. Ashby had been forced to move west in an at- tempt to regain his failing health, tak- ing his wife and daughter with him. Mary Ellen brooded over her troubles continually. She decided that she must not see so much of Ralph, and tried her best to live up to her decision. She declined his invitations to walk or drive under one pretext or another, although it hurt to have to do so. Mr. Graham noticed the change and, seeing that his company was evidently not desired, although he imagined that he knew the trouble, concluded that it was best for him to stay away. He had done pretty Well for a week or so, but could not conquer the desire to see her longer, so one beautiful day, the day before Frank Lester was to ar- rive, he called at her home proposing that they take a walk. She was so taken by surprise that she had no ex- cuse ready, and her desire to accept was so strong that she found herself saying, Yes, Ralph, with pleasure, before she really knew what she was doing. By Mary Ellen 's suggestion they de- cided to Walk up the mountain. They walked on and on, talking gaily all the time for both were in excellent spirits. They had Walked far up the slope, and were now on a sort of flat plateau. They stopped here to rest before starting to descend. Isn't it delightful to be here?l' said Mary Ellen, as she glanced around her, then down, far, far below at the busy valley. Yes, dear, heavenly-with you, said Ralph softly. Mary Ellen started. It was the first time that he had ever taken the liberty to address her in endearing terms. Mr, Graham, she exclaimed in confusion, stopped-and could not go further. She was blushing crimson. Seeing this he leaned forward and kissed her before she had a chance to resist. 'tMr. Grahamf, she said accusingly, and there was no faltering of the clear, cold voice now, I believed you a gen- tleman until this day. You understand perfectly well my relations to Frank Lester-your friend as well as mine, and now-oh, what will he say-H The tears sprang to her eyes-she choked and turned her face away, proud and defiant. Ralph Graham gently took her hand. 'tMary Ellen,', he said softly,- Frank will say nothing only words of love. I am Frank Lester. Look at me, dear, and say that you believe me. She turned her beautiful eyes upon him, full of innocent wonder. You,,' she said, looking at him long and stead- ily, you, Frank? Yes, I swear I am, and to prove-it, I will give you this,l' he said, taking a small band of gold from his pocket and slipping it upon her finger. Is not that the same one you gave me four years ago to keep until we should meet again? She looked at the ring a moment and smiled at the recollection. Yes, but why did you--why have you been de- ceiving melll' she cried petulantly. Because, dear, I Wanted to Win you- Which you have done Frank, dear, she whispered softly. And now we Will leave them, stand- ing on the high plateau with the world before them. Esther Moore, '15.

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Udle on the Death oil: Bury the old building With the whole school's lamentations, Let us bury the old building To the noise of the throats of her own creation, Mourning when her timbers fall, Weeping when the rats do crawl And darkness covers every hall. Where shall we take her I do implore? Here in Muncie she is a bore. Let the voice of those she worked for, And the feet of those she died for, Echo round her ashes evermore. Lead out the students: sad and slow, As fits this most terrible woe, Let the sad, worn procession go, And let the wailing crowd around it grow, And let the music classes music blow, Her last day cometh slow. Mourn, for she seems to us the last, Remembering all her troubles in the past, No more in stately grandeur will she greet With gilded hands the gazer in the street. O, students, our teachers harborer is mute. Mourn for the school of long-enduring years, The stately mansion, old and oft abused Buried at dusk with streams of tears. Mourn for the school of greatest influence. Still greatest in her special line, Buried greatest with least repentencc, Great in Latin and great in Math., Foremost leader of her time, Pastmaster in common sense, And all through her flowery path, She dehed him-Father Time. O, rickerty stairs which all have climbed, O, halls from which great thoughts were mined O. crushed at last thy tower of fame, Which stood tive years of condemnation. Such was she whom we explore, The agitation of years is o'er, The great walled statue will be seen no more. -Kemper Cowing 13 MJ!-ll. .