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Page 28 text:
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THEY DIED ONE NIGHT fcontinuedj You shall not take my stock! I'll kill you before I'll let our boys starve. I'll kill everyone of you with my bare hands! Francois! Francois! Don't! Come back! Francois! screamed Clarissa. But Francois did not listen. He lunged at the of- ficer's throat, his face livid with rage. Two other Germans flung at Francois, beat him clear across the room where he hit the wall with a dull thud. Silence -then his body slid to the floor, his head crushed to a pulp. Little Marie ran screaming to her father. Daddy, Daddy, don't die! Open your eyes - Mommy! Mommy! Daddy's dead. They killed him, they killed my Daddy! Captain Blitz's head was bursting from the scream- ing. Why not shut the little brat up? Why not stop that infernal screaming? His hand went to his gun, then quickly he fired. The child let out a bloody scream, then fell, her head on her father's chest. Lieutenant Pratzer was stunned. He and another soldier had killed the father, his.Captain had killed the child. What would the Commissioner say? Cap- tain Blitz felt funny-was ready to speak when a muf- fled moan reached his ears, turning, he saw Clarissa fall to the floor with a sickening thump. My God! She was dead! Shock probably-maybe a heart attack. Captain Blitz began to sweat. He had three unneces- sary deaths on his hands. Lieutenant Pratzer was eye- ing him curiously-waiting. Stupid Frenchman, blurted Blitz. They don't know that we are the master race. They'll learn. But come, let us clear up this food. We will search the house, then burn it to the ground. Other Frenchmen might learn we mean business. With this statement he started to poke every nook and corner picking up whatever he thought valuable. Finally when they had finished, they went outside. As the house burned, Blitz felt proud. The Commissioner would reward him for bringing such good things back, cows that would mean plenty of meat. Then with a proud, sharp command he ordered his mer back to camp. A few days later Pierre DuBois was given a shor leave. He had a weary heavy heart as he walked along the country road leading to his home. His belovec country had fallen, and the Armistice would be signer soon. Then he, a stalwart fighter of France, would be forced to fight on the German's side. But he musi console his mother and father. He must make thing: bright for them. He was nearing his home. He hac not told them he was coming, nor had he heard frorr them in several days. Pierre rounded the corner, his eyes searching for his home. Suddenly Pierre's feet froze to the ground. His heart thumped with force- ful, agonizing beats. His head whirled and made hirr dizzy. Then with a low, guttural moan he ran toward the charred ruins of his beloved home. He stopped, the tears streaming down his cheeks. Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! My family, where are they? What has happened to them? He looked around as if hoping to see something, some part of his home still standing. Pierre's eyes finally came to a focus on three crosses placed securely in the ground, side by side. Slowly, painfully Pierre walked to the graves as though lost in another world. Quietly he took his crucifix from around his neck, and holding it tightly between his hands, he ut- tered a solemn prayer of revenge. At his mother's grave he prayed for her happiness, peace, and security in the home of the Holy Father. As he turned towards little Marie's grave, the tears streamed down his face in remembrance. He prayed, Little Marie, may God love you as your brother Pierre loves you. May you always be a protector for your beloved Mother and Father. Little Marie, don't you worry about me. Some day soon I shall join you, Mother, and Father, in the land of Faith and Love. Amen. Pierre crossed himself solemnly, then arose and proceeded to camp with a heart that ached with sor- row and loneliness, and with a heavy, determined step that seemed to beat out in staccato rhythm the words, Revenge! Revenge! Revenge! By Beatrice Leaver
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Page 27 text:
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They Died One Night Francois DuBois was out early this particular june morning, plowing his rich fertile soil. The war was continuing and there was great fear of the fall of France. As Francois worked, his thoughts were cen- tered on the war. Suppose-just suppose-the Ger- mans should come to France, demolish and burn the towns, and France should fall captive to Germany? Would he be run off his farm? Would the Germans burn his home and his family? What would become of them all? Francois put a new vigor behind the plow. They would not take France. Not as long as he produced abundant food for the soldiers. They would keep on fighting and keep the Germans back. Yes, they would keep on fighting. Even Francois' own son Pierre was out there on the field of battle. Pierre had gone away some eight months before with a determination to fight for the freedom of his country. A brilliant young chap, he soon became an officer with a clear understanding of the state of affairs, and a hatred for war and its plotters. Francois was startled from his thought by the shouting of his wife Clarissa, who was undoubtedly excited over something. Francois! Francois! Oh Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu! What is it Clarissa? You are all excited! Stop your shouting and tell me what is wrong. Has Marie fallen down the well? Did you burn the cake again? Tell me, what is wrong? Oh Francois, the Italians, the Italians, have de- clared war on us. What are we going to do? We can't last much longer. Our troops are weakening, our food is running low. The Germans will surely stamp us out. Francois! Francois! Did you hear what I said ? Francois did hear what she said. Her words came at his heart with a stab, his face turned white at the thought. The Italians and Germans-together they would strike at France. Together they would take his land, his farm. He looked at his plow, at his freshly plowed land as though he would not be plowing it for his benefit alone. But wait! Hadn't he, not five minutes ago told himself that they would not fail their beloved country? Francois looked at his wife shivering with fright looking up at him for courage. He looked at his big white farm house and little Marie playing outside. Come, Clarissa, let us go in for lunch. The two walked back in silence-Clarissa with a heavy, frightened, and weary step, Francois with a de- termined pace-determined to fight for freedom. All that day Francois' mind was whirling with thoughts. Nothing else could enter his mind. He real- ized the tenseness of his fellow Frenchmen when he went to town that afternoon. People were standing in line with ration books, waiting for the day's meager supplies, a chance in a hundred that they would get anything at all. Groups of men were stand- ing in the street, some talking furiously with tense, jerky voices, others were listening with faces pale and puzzled. Boys and girls were walking about quietly, cautiously, with clothes made from still older clothes. All this he saw-all with one thought in mind-determination to fight, to fight in the spirit which is characteristic of all true Frenchmen. Then the blow came. At the end of that week the Germans marched into Paris. In no time the French were overwhelmed and the capital city was in the hands of the Germans. Still Francois kept his cour- age, though at times his thoughts and fears nearly drove him crazy. Two nights later Francois, his wife, and child were eating their scant evening meal when heavy foot- steps were heard outside, sharp, clear commands, and then a loud knock at the door. Francois' heart began to pound at a terrific pace, his throat became coarse and dry, and his wife turned deathly white. A second knock came louder, more commanding. Open up! Open up in the name of the Feuhrer! Resolutely Francois opened the door. In stamped five huge Germans, two of them officers. Quickly they glanced around the room. Hans, Fritz, look around, pick up anything of interest. This man is rich.' Francois started to protest but one of the burly soldiers stepped quickly toward him with anwarning not to speak. Aha! Lieutenant Pratzer, the Frenchman does not like our company. Maybe he does not know that we have one of his big fat cows. Our soldiers could use some good beef. Wilhelm, go fetch those beautiful cows we saw. Tie them together so we will have no trouble leading them. Francois thrust forward at the officer.
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Page 29 text:
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Eunice Rasmussen Esther Bate Lorraine Shepard Eunice Rasmussen Esther Bate Miriam Butensky Lorraine Shepard Eunice Rasmussen Miriam Butensky Eunice Rasmussen Miriam Butensky Eunice Rasmussen Lorraine Shepard Miriam Butensky Alice Morgan Muriel Person Sarah Carlson Eunice Rasmussen Eunice Rasmussen Miriam Butensky Esther Bate Natalie Eaton Eunice Rasmussen Alice Morgan Eunice Rasmussen Lorraine Shepard Alice Morgan Anna Griffen Senior Superlatives Most Popular Best Dresed Best Sport Biggest Bluffer Best Personality Teacher's Pet Teacher's Pest Best Looking Most Courteous Most Argumentative Most Likely to Succeed Best Athlete Noisiest Quietest Most Studious Worst Blusher Worst Giggler Biggest Flirt Cutest Done Most for School Nicest Smile Dreamiest Most Optimistic Most Pessimistic Class Chiseler Best Line Class Know It All Most Sarcastic oi ' , , 235'- Eugene Woodin Robert Reiner Donald Smith William Waterhouse Robert Reiner Eugene Woodin Frank Miles William Lewis Richard Perry Frank Miles John Leavy Carl Berls Kenneth Casey John Harasymcziuk john Leavy Robert Reiner james Scanlon Kenneth Casey james Scanlon Robert Reiner Richard DiVesta Arthur Hyatt Robert Reiner Richard Perry Arthur Hyatt Frank Miles Kenneth Casey William Waterhouse N
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