Newport High School - Blunita Yearbook (Newport, PA)

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stumbled on, heedless of everything, with his violin clutched to his bosom. A faint light in the distance beckoned him onward. At last he reached the farmhouse. He threw open the door. There in tlie kitchen stood a cot. From beneath white coverlets shone the pale face of the dying boy. Pearson strode to the cot. “Danny ’ he said tremulously to the inert form, don’t you know me? It’s I, Grand-daddy Pearson, for whom you used to carry in wood when I had the rheumatism.” Danny lay still. Pearson looked around. A doctor standing nearby shook his head. “He’s going to another land. He has asked for you to play. It may make things easier.’’ Pearson glanced at Mrs. Winters, standing in a corner, weeping and nodding consent. He placed his violin in position and drew his bow across the strings. Across the room floated his favorite—“Home, Sweet Home.” His' feeling of love, sorrow, despair, all went into the melody. The piece ended. Without a pause, he started, “Nearer My God to Thee.” A murmer caused him to look down. A flush had spread over the boy’s countenance. . I see Him. A mantle of white overspread his face. He heaved a sigh and Danny was gone with a smile upon his face. Pearson faltered a moment, then played on. Sweeter and sweeter grew the melody. The grief-stricken, parents were comforted by his exquisite music. Over and over again he played every piece he knew. At last he showed signs of weariness. Then slowly and solemnly he swung into the song, “Loid, I’m Com:ng Home.” As he neared the end of it his eyes closed. His bow touched the strings as a hand migh caress. At last he finished. He lowered his violin and placed it on the foot of Danny's cot. He knelt there and clasped his hands. Rowing his head on the breast of the lifeless form, he muttered. “Aye! Comin Home!’’ A silence pervaded the room. The physician walked over and touched Pearson. He started. He itiised the old man’s head and stared long at it. “Dead! Dead!” The next day the district school paid solemn tribute to the memory of Danny and Pearson. And it was in their memory that February twenty-second w'as henceforth observed. JOHN ADAMS, ’25. Lincoln Remodels a Character. “Abe, would you like to run my flat down to New Oreleans?” asked Mr. Cobden. Abraham Lincoln, better known to his neighbors .’s Honest Abe, on account of his uprightness of character and con scientiousness, reph’ed that he would be glad for the employment Thereupon, plans for the business expedition were formed. That evening Mr. Cobden would load his Hat with miscellaneous merchandise and the following morning Lincoln was to begin his journey to New Oreleans When the boat reached that great city, its burden would consst ot

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8 THE BLUE AND WHITE the command of the fort until he would return from transacting some business in Congress. RUTH CROUSE, ’24. Cornin’ Home. “Grand-daddy” Pearson sat close by the fire that gave out such a meagi bit of warmth and fingered his fiddle lovingly. The light of the open fire cast a ruddy glow on his rcgged features. The light was reflected in the old man’s eyes and deepened the wistful look on his countenance. He sighed and rose. Affectionately tucking the instrument under hi. chin he drew the bow across the strings. Softly the strains of “Home, Sweet Home” floated from the violin. Sweet and resonant rose the melody. Tears dimmed the old man’s eyes as he lingered over the last notes of the refrain: - “There’s no place like home.” Tenderly, he laid the violin on a shelf with the bow, then resumed his seat nearby. With elbows resting on his knees, and face hidden in his hands he sat. A pathetic silence pervaded the room. “Grand-daddy Pearson, as folks called h'm, lived alone. He had no known relatives and only his violin for company. This he loved. His abode was a little one-story shack in the center of a five acre field of miserable ground. From a cow and a few chickens he eked living sufficient for his wants. “Grand-daddy” Peaison’s fiddle was more of a necessity than the old man. Any person in the community planning an entertainment always called “Grand daddy” Pearson’s fiddle into use. It was the old fellow’s only pleasure, and he gloried in it. But tonight, he was sad. As far back as many folks could remember the little township school had always had a Washington’s Birthday celebration. Each time “Daddy Pearson’s fiddle had furnished the music for the statel m'nuet that the elder pupils of the school had danced. This year he had been rejected. A young fellow that played the fiddle had moved into the neighborhood. He was good-looking and popular. Hence the girls of the minuet voted for him to play the music for the dance. Tomorrow was the twenty-second of February. There he sat disheartened, discouraged. The slight had dulled his feelings to the extent that he oared not whether he lived or died. Thump! Bang! The door burst open, and in rushed a figure bundled in wraps. It was a boy. “Grand-daddy Pearson! Grand-daddy Pearson! Bring your fiddle and come on!” The old man raised his head. “Go ’way! Go ’way! I will go nowhere.” “But Grand-daddy Pearson, you must,” pers sted the boy, “you must!” Bursting into tears, he shouted incoherently, “Danny Winters brok-‘ through the ice on the river. They saved him, but he got pneumonia and is dying. Dying! Please come. He’s calling for you.” The old man stirred himself. A chill of terror shook his form, tie rose, took down the violin and strode out of the house. He wore neither coat nor hat. Br-r-r! The February cold chilled him to the bone. He

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10 THE BLUE AND WHITE southern products which the planters would have exchanged for thos of the North. In the metropolis Lincoln was to sell the cargo. The morning sun shone brightly, bidding the river gleam an invitation and Lincoln was eager to accept it when he presented himsell at tie Cobden boat landing. He noted the an mated expression on the lac. of Oliver, Mr. Cobden’s son, and he conjectured the cause. He learned that he had guessed correctly when Mr. Cobden addressed him. Abe Oliver is anxious to see the city and I told him that he might go with you if you don’t object. Of course, he will help you do the work. Lincoln assented, although he was not greatly desirous of the boy’s company. “I believe mother wants to speak to you, said his employer and Lincoln hurried to Mrs. Cobden. Will you do something for me, Mr. Lincoln? I ask you to keep Oliver from the evils of the city. You know he is only seventeen.’’ “I’ll try.” answered Lincoln earnestly and although the words implied no bold assurance, they comforted the heart of the little woman, reared in the gentler atmosphere of the east. Lincoln, himself, was but nineteen years of age, yet she knew what strength he exerted when a sense of duty impelled him. Mrs. Cobden accompanied him down to the river and there bade the two boys farewell. Lincoln and Oliver were not well acquainted for Oliver had shown a preference for some boys of whom Lincoln had not a good opinion. But now, Lincoln resolved to gain the boy’s friendship so that he might be better prepared to fulfill the promise to his mother. They had left the Illinois River and were now upon the great Mississippi. Probably because of the cold indifference of the rushing waters to human affairs, the boys became interested in each other. Lincoln began to take pleasure in the companionship of the convivial Olivet and Oliver enjoyed conversing with the older boy, whose knowledge was so much broader than his own. The boat had entered the Southland and at night long after the moon rose to glorify the scene, it. was allowed to proceed. Then after it was anchored and moored, the occupants, lulled to sleep by its gentle rocking to and fro on the water, in their dreams saw again amid dark protecting tiees the lovely mansions resplendent in the moonlight. Finally, they reached New' Oreleans and sold the freight which now was composed of plantation products. While this business was being transacted Oliver formed the acquaintance of three men, to whom Lincoln immediately took aversion. “They are all right, said Olive ' when he was advised against them. Having finished their work, the boys set out to see the city. By even ing they were willing to return home and so prepared to start on the morrow. Accordingly, Lincoln went forth to purchase sugar, flour and other supplies. Oliver said he would remain on the boat as one day of city life had wearied him. The money obtained by selling the carg . was entrusted to him for Lincoln did not want to carry it with h m. When Lincoln returned he was amazed to find that Oliver had gone.