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20 THE CADUCEUS have it. Soon the calf began to bleat almost con- tinuously. It lost its appetite and grew so thin and weak that at last it died. The family felt badly and cursed Mirandy bit- terly for the loss of their valuable animal. The legend still goes that one night old Mirandy telephoned to one of her neighbors in order to borrow a pound of butter. The woman told her that she had barely enough to supply the family. But old Mirandy de- clared that they had a plenty if they only thought so. VVhen the next butter day came, these people began the churning early in the morning as usual. They churned and churned, but the butter did not come. Of course they said that old Mirandy was to blame, that she had bewitched the cream. At last the man of the house came in. He said that he'would stop old Mirandy from interfering with the butter's coming. So he heated an iron red-hot and plunged it into the cream. In a short time they had butter. The next day several inquisitive people went to see old Mirandy and to find if she had been affected by the hot iron. Surely enough, upon her arm was a long burn. They asked her how she got burned, but she was unable to tell them, for she said that she did not know. Now, was Mirandy a. witch or not? -Helen Flint, '32. A Stop in Cock Lane He was fond of traveling, in fact he oft- en did travel. Like all good philosophers he had his reasons: first, he indulged in constant journeyings because of the pleas- ure which he received, and second, he trav- eled because he thought it in keeping with his chosen profession-that of an archae- ologist. That is how Reginald came to be in Cock Lane. He had studied about Gibbon, Burke, Johnson, and all the rest, and now he was in London searching for more in- formation. All day long he had walked about, look- ing at everything, prodding and pokingg then at sundown he ha.d returned to his lodging-an inn of much. renown in Cock Lane-near the church where the historic episode of Johnson and his ghost had taken place. After his meager repast, he wrote up his discoveries of the day. Because he liked recreation as well as other people, about quarter of twelve he ceased his labor and sought his poetry books. The inn where he was residing was one preserved because of the frequent visits made there by J ohn- son when in London. It was only with special permission from tl1e society in charge of this building that Reginald was able to stay. Reginald was a man of calm disposition, The room poetry this very unobtrusive, and amiable. in which he was reading his night was dimly lighted by a small lamp, near which he was sitting in an old rigid chair. He was suddenly aware of someone in the room. Turning quietly about, he saw only two hands-scratchy, scrawny hands-receding through a small aperture in the wall. Being a man not easily alarmed he logically laid aside his book, took his lamp and started toward the wall. He saw no sign of anything unusual and so he be- gan to feel the wall where he thought he had seen the hands. Suddenly, as he felt a certain spot, the wall began to tremble and then he saw a door open. Holding his light before him, he was able to see a whiteness back in the gloom there. Advancing a bit, it became even more vivid. His first thought was of a ghost, and he was about to retreat, when the door jarred shut with a slam, which knocked his light from his hand and shattered it in
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THE CADUCEUS 19 Cleer was playing with Billy, and, thinking it was all right or the child to hear the con- versation, they let him stay in the room. Mr. Pierce told Mrs. Van Cleer he would- n't work on the case any longer. Billy listened attentively to all that was said. After Pierce said he was going to leave, as he had no clue to work on, Billy suddenly interrupted with: Mama, what did your jooels look like? Mrs. Van Cleer described the jewels and then asked Billy why he had said that. Billy answered, I didn 't know they were jooels. One day I ran away from nursie a.nd went into your room. I wanted to see you. You wasn't there, but the sparklers were. I took them to play with. Then I went downstairs into the room where the goldfishes are. I didn't want to play with the sparklers no more so I put them in with the goldfishes. They looked jest like the rocks and the other things in the bowl. I'm sorry, Mama, I didn't want to make you feel bad. I didn't know they were any good. Mrs. Van Cleer hurried downstairs and sure enough there were the jewels where they had been deposited-as good as ever. ' ' -Maxine Richardson, '33. Mirandy , Out in the country, at the Four Corners Cas the people used to call ith was an old structure. It was a low, rambling house with a large, open shed at the back, and a stable at the southwestern corner. It had been intimated among the neigh- borhood that old Mirandy Vester, who lived there, was a witch. People said that in the dusk of the evening she had been seen with her black cat., Spider, walking stealthily around people's homes. It was said that she always. kept in the shadows, but the eyes of the cat would show up in the dark. It was Irumored that one day Clem I-Iall was hauling Hrewood past old Mirandy's house, when she came out and told Clem to leave the wood in her shed. But,l' said Clem, I haven't wood enough to last me out. I must have this wood for myself. She argued that he didn't need it and that she did. The result was that Clem kept on his way home. Near his house was a steep hill. As he reached the middle of it, his horses stopped to rest. After a few minutes, Clem spoke to the horses to go on, but they would not start. He urged them, but they refused. He used all the means he knew to make the horses draw the load up the hill, but with no success. He finally un- loaded the wood, and went home with an empty cart, at the same time cursing old Mirandy for bewitching his horses so they would not pull. One Saturday old Mirandy went to one of the neighbors'. Wlieii she entered the kitchen, she began to sniff the air. Ah, she said, H you have beans baking for supper, haven 't you? The housewife answered in the affirma- tive. Well, said Mirandy, I have nothing for my supper and I want them. After arguing with her neighbor, Miran- dy left empty-handed. That night, when the beans were served for supper, the family were unable to eat them as they were so hard. Of course the opinion voiced by the en- tire family was that Mirandy had bee11 up to her old tricks. One of Mirandy's neighbors had a little Jersey calf, whose mother was a very valu- able creature. Mirandy always seemed to want every- thing that her neighbors eherished, so, as usual, she wanted this calf. However, the owners refused. You will he sorry for this, Mirandy said. You will wish that you had let me
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THE CADUCEUS 21 a thousand pieces on the cold floor. The phantom was creeping, crawling, shrieking toward him all the while, and with a start, Reginald realized that he must get back out of that place, but he found the wall without a door. All the pressure he exert- ed was in vain. As he stood pushing and trembling, a creaking was heard, a rustling, and a claw- ing. Turning about, he faced a ghost-a real ghost-not that of the story books. It was only the skeleton of a man bent and deformed, surrounded by a veiling of white- ness. No sheet or cloth, but the vague form of a man enveloped in a jelly-like, misty, softness of a substance whiter than snow. Reginald did not move, he did not breathe, he even stopped living for a few minutes as that horrible apparition ad- vanced with the rapidity and smootlmess of lightning. It was upon him-not hammer- ing him, but enveloping and overcoming him with its wicked supernatural power. Gradually Reginald felt the sting of this thing and there in that dark, unknown pas- sage this man felt his life line grow weak, and, under tl1c influence of this thing, it snapped. He departed to the shades of the world below. -Charlotte Longley, '31, The Two Faithful Servants In a secluded corner of the Jones fam- ily's attic, stood an old piano and piano stool. The Joneses had discarded it be- cause they had purchased a new electric radio, illld the room did not allow space for the old friend, the piano. After standing in the attic about two months, the piano and stool were sick of their new home. One day the piano said to the stool, This is a horrible place, isnlt it, my little friend? Why did Mr. Jones ever have us moved way up here? Wllell we were down in the parlor, Mandy, the hired maid, kept us shining and polished, all of the time. Wasn't it fun for us when the J oneses were' away and she would sneak into the parlor, sit down in front of me, and make faces in my polished surface? How funny she did look with those little curly pigtails that colored mammies often havef' Yes, said tl1e stool, But it wasn't so much fun for me wl1e11 Mrs. Jones accom- panied herself 011 the piano, while she was singing soprano. Did you hear what she said to Mr. Jones one Tuesday night? I fairly felt my legs creaking wl1e11 I heard her tell him, 'Dearest, I was weighed today, and I weigh only two hundred pounds nowl' 5 IIark,,' whispered the pia11o. I hear someone coming. I hope it isn't Mrs. Jones. If she heard what you said, she certainly would feel insulted. There was silence in the attic. .Suddenly a voice remarked, They are right over here. ' Soon the keyboard cover was lifted, and all the dusty keys were revealed. Mr. Jones had brought a man to see the old piano and stool. He was poor, but wanted his two children, Jeanette and Royce, to have some sort of musical education. You may have them both for twenty- iive dollars, was Mr. Jones 's offer. The man 's heart jumped with joy. IIe answered, I will send a truck im- mediately, as he paid the money. In about an l1our the piano and stool were on their way to Middle Street. They came to an attractive little bungalow and were moved inside. Royce and Jeanette proved to be very pretty, w1tl1 fiaxen curls and bright blue eyes. How happy they seemed! HK ilk if ik If ll! if ll? Another day, about one year afterwards, the piano said to the stool, How happy we are, here with this nice family, and how I enjoy having little Jeanette and Royce
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