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Page 29 text:
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O-- Victory T WHS nlght. The thund.er roared and the lightning flashed, lighting up a Small, white room and showing a fair-haired boy of about twelve years Cgmefillg Under the bed clothes. When he uncovered his head to see if it were S 1' S orming, he showed a face as white as his pillow into which he again thxust h1s.head and there sleep finally found him. But upon awakening the nent morning his first thought was of the storm and he trembled as he thought of it although he was partially ashamed of his fear. Q He recalled other incidents in his young life when he had been thoroughly frightened and ashamed of his cowardice. Was he not afraid of those huge fire crackers and their terrific boom which so delighted other boys? Did he not always shiver and shake when he saw and heard gun-play in a movie? And did he not always tremble with fear when he lay in bed at night and heard the wind howl? Yes, he was frightened at all these things and said aloud, Gee, I must be an awful coward. The matter did not end there either for older boys in the neighborhood knew of his fears and persisted in calling him a coward and a sissie , afraid of his own shadow. Which indeed was almost true for he never dared venture out at night for he always thought that someone was following him or was hiding just around the next corner or a tree. ' It was night. The thunder rolled and the lightning flashed again lighting up a room where we see again not a young terror stricken child but a young man of seventeen with a pale drawn face trying to make himself believe he is not frightened. Surely , he thought, if I can't convince myself, nobody else will think I am not. A brighter flash than any which preceeded it lit up the room and died away. Then what was that light which steadily grew brighter? Why did it not die away? Realization dawned upon him. The apartment house next door was aflre. What should he do? The flames grew brighter. Had the tenants been warned? Were they aware of the fact that they were in danger? He tried to call but his voice refused to come forth. Then increased horror came to him. Why, he was in danger too! Many thoughts raced through his mind. What to do! How to do it! A new thought gradually took form in his brain. Many lives depended up- on his decision. Shouldn't he then conquer his own fear and brave danger for the sake of so many others. His mind was made up. He hastily Jumpedlfrom bed pulled on his clothes, and buttoned them as he went down the stairs in leaps yelling fire as he went. By the time he reached the street everyone in the same building was hastily appearing. He turned in a fire alarm and al-A most instantly he could hear the far-away sound of the engine. The firemen were not afraid of fire-let them rescue the tenants and carry them to safety. Fear overcame him again- 'dly filling with people, mostly women and children who d She sgiisgnwasofnataheir beds Wails from frightened children filled the air. ha een ' .7 t d h' her. Where were the firemen. Why had. they not re- ghrfngzdxtfes Wallin Zveryine was safe now, only the building would be totally dgstroyed and perhaps the other one adJacent to it also. Twenty-five V ,.,...w, -19 ' ' 7- , ...frilfldliifiiilmii -lf'
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Page 28 text:
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- 0 'Tm Sure y0u'11 understand, Professor, Myrna began confidingly, I have used ever one of my three cuts, one on January twentieth, right after I started Y the course one February third, when I had a five thousand word theme to finish for Rhetoric. and one last week when I didn't feel well one day. What excuse did you have for the first time? Well, - I had to have a new hat for the Senior ball house party. and I cou1dn't find another minute in which to buy it, Myrna explained rather feebly. Then, in order that he might not have time to think about that, she plunged into her story. Yesterday professor, I went to the library right after lunch. I looked over my Geology notebook and decided that I had it properly prepared. Then I got out a book the American literature professor recommended Jackson's Con- temporary American Novelists -and started to read it. I swear to you, Mr. Randall, that I became so fascinated by that book that I never came to until a friend of mine discovered me there at four o'clock. You see I wasn't absent yesterday on purpose. It was entirely accidental. Ol you were absent yesterday, too? I didn't notice-then,-you've had four bolts haven't you ? Yes, that's what I came to see you for. I should so hate to have to give up the course, Couldn't you possibly overlook it? I might even do some extra work, if I had time. That D again presented itself to the professor's notice. I really do under- stand your predicament, Miss Sibley. I'm awfully glad that something interests you so much. And I can sympathize with your enjoyment of Contemporary American Novelists . It's certainly a remarkably well done book, isn't it? Though Myrna widened her eyes a bit in astonishment, she eagerly seized her opportunity. I knew you'd understand. I told my room-mate that you wouldn't report me if I explained just how it happened! I'm afraid you misunderstood me, Miss Sibley. In-as-much as you dislike science so-for I'm sure you do-I feel it my duty to report your absence. I don't believe in making people study things which don't interest them, even if miss- ing certain things makes them become too narrow-minded to really do anything worth while! Professor Randall swung around in the swivel-chair which he had found convenient on many similar occasions, and Myrna, feeling complete- ly squelched , ,wandered out and found her way to her ten o'clock class. Although Professor Kane was explaining the art of book reviewing in his eloquent manner, Myrna Sibley did not hear a word that he said. Could it be that she, Myrna Sibley, a broad-minded college student, didn't always look at both sides of a question? Why, Professor Randall, a mere Geologist, had as much as called her narrow minded! She did admit, however, that it had never occured to her before that science was progressing more swiftly than any other kind of knowledge. And progress! Isn't that our aim? When Myrna Sibley stopped at the dean's office that afternooon and an- nounced her intention of dropping Book Reviewing, two and a half hours, the assistant who went to look up her record was rather puzzled, for Myrna was certainly getting good marks in that kind of work, and there were no 520IK1Bl'?1iHtS from any of her professors. w W But the most astonished person was Professor Randall, Wl10Q by the Way, had forgotten to report Myrna's cuts, for that girl,,g - 1101-lgh E3-RB!!-1'?I1f91Y 111- different still to the thrills of Geology, wrote a fin2i,1,Lll-'3-gipgqlgiwhlgh fully deserved an A! I Grace Ella IH Twenty-four e
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Page 30 text:
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- 0 . Why! What was that in that second story window? He rubbed his eyes. Was it possible? Yes, it was true. Up there in that window was the figure of a little child, its face filled with fear and the hope of rescue. The boy thought wildly, Why doesn't someone who is not afraid go to her aid? But nobody stirred. Again the thought of the firemen flashed through his brain, but they had made a mistake answering the wrong alarm. Suddenly there was seen to issue from the crowd a youth who Without hes- itating ran into the burning building. A hush! The crowd waited. A few minutes later two figures were seen in the window, then disappeared. He had got to her but could he return? In the boy's head different thoughts raced as he fought his Way through the smoke and fire-filled rooms, shielding the little girl. Why, he didn't feel afraid now! A feeling of responsibility rested upon him. He must save the child. A cheer rose from the street, hundreds of hands reached out to aid them, the boy and child. The burning building suddenly collapsed into flaming ruins. But he had won. Florence Caleb, Eng. IV. A Northern lbullke In the cool of an early morn, Like a smooth sheet of glass You lay stretched out in sleep, Revealing your inmost soul. The sun rose from your depths And transformed you to gold. You awoke, and sighed with reproach, Ruffling your surface, Obscuring your soul. The day wore on-your placid blue, Tipped with snow-white caps, Gave you a festal air. 'Gainst the horizon a boat plied by, Leaving a ribbon of smoke behind. Once, menacing clouds Turned blue to sullen gray. The sun sank into your depths, Leaving a path of reddish gold Over your peaceful, quiet waves. Mysterious, glowing with light, Refiecting the stars and the moon, . .1 You slept through the night. ' .-if. . .,l ' Ruth Hackley, Twenty-sig'
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