Oakhurst Collegiate School - Acorn Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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THE PASSER-BY A BRIDGE HE great bridge, black as its surroundings, was long and narrow. It was a big, massive structure, made up of steel and iron, and suspiended upon thou- sands of cables stretched taut. About the sides and bottom, iron and steel crossed and recrossed each other, forming a black network. The street, which crOSsed it was paved with wooden blocks worn to a color as dirty as the iron of the bridge, by the traffic which traversed it day and night. The vehicles seemed to be a part of this great bridge, as they moved to and fro in long, straight lines across it. The ends of the bridge were surrounded with tall buildings and immense, high skyscrapers. All of this was enveloped in clouds of dirty gray smoke. The whole ponderous mass, suspended in mid-air by the frail steel cables, gave a startling impression to an onlooker. V. W., 18. THE SHOEMAKER That bent 01d man-his crippled fingers ply the needle back and forth. The straps on his leather apron swing in rhythm. Shoes, shoes of all kinds and descriptions are littered about on the floor. With that strange, intent look on his face and the tense set of his fingers, he is like the shoes he mendsewrinkled, old, and changeless in expression. A. B., T7. A SKY LINE The sky line was gray, and as uneven as a jig-saw puzzle. THE TENEMENT HOUSE The huge tenement house was of a dirty red brick, and seemed to be one living pile of filth. It was at least eighty feet high, occupying nearly a square block; it had numerous narrow doors, rickety, tumbled-down steps, and broken window-panes, with rags and paper stuffed in them, which gave as forlorn an aspect to the outside as their rear views, doubtless, imparted to the squalor within. Old barrels and tin cans lay in the frozen mud, and everywhere curious, scampering ragamuffins were to be seen. The windows were very close together, and a care-worn face looked out from almost every one. C. V., ,18. OLD PHOTOGRAPHS Old photographs are very amusing, especially to the younger generation. The hats were rather large, and sat upon ttthree hairs, and this always gave the ladies a supercilious look. K. T., Col. II Themes. A SHIP The decks were occupied by crowds of people, who were waving eagerly to the people on land. The front of this ship tapered to a point, so that the immense bulk cut through the water very easily, while the rear extended straight upward. On either side, thin masts stretched above the smokestacks and a large American flag fastened to a pole rippled in the breeze. The ship was white, but in large, black letters, which ap- peared very small because of the distance, was written Lusitania. L. M., 18.

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Softly he shut the door. Heis sleepini. I'm glad 0, that, he thought, the more he sleeps, tht stronger hetll git. After moving softly around the room for a few minutes, putting things in order for the coming cele- bration, he said to himself, Guess Pll just put that candy in tis hani, so hetll see it first thing w'en he wakes up-P! He took the candy and tiptoed softly to the bed. Gosh, but he looks wiite. Guess Iill hev to steal purty soon to send him to th, country? Tenderly he bent over Little Brother, took one of the little white hands in his own. How cold it was! He put it down quickly. One sickening suspicion swept over him. Bubs, he called, breathlessly, in a choked voice, ttBubs, hev you gone an' done whut muther done? Oh, hev you? a: a: an ax at at! Two days after, there was a little funeral at the cost of charity, and, if any people who attended thought it strange that Little Brother should be buried with a red and white-striped stick of peppermint candy in his hand, no one said so.-DOT HUNTER. OAKHURST CAKE ALLIEiS our baking powder, Without her we could not rise. Take Mildred for the sugar For sheis as sweet as apple pies. Let Maire be the butter, Since she thinks she is so fat. As for the spoon of flavoring; Virginia ill do for that. The pinch of salt is Martha, So tiny and so true. Elizabeth, her roomy, Is the milk she loves to chew. Let Frances be the flour, As a staple she will do. Dorothy must be the eggsi She can beat em through and through. Let Oakhurst be the mixing bowl, And let Miss Kendrick stir The jolly crowd of girls into The cake that is for her.-V. E. B., '16. 19

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FLOWERING THORN from the Boston Transcripn COLD the winter ocean beats Against, the English shore; I remember well a May When England hawthorn woreh Hawthorn white and hawthorn red; Pale, sweet lilacs on her head Wreathfad in a coronal; Oleanders by the wall, Old, gray garden walls where climb Dark-leaved ivies, rich with time. Now the leaden winter rain Falls on England in her pain; Falls on Lancashire where grew Violets in woods we knew? Falls on paths he trod with me, In that May-time, lingeringly. Now the Winds of winter cry O1er the lakes that frozen lie, Gray and sombre, mirroring No bright sapphire skies of spring. Far in Flanders wild winds sweep O'er my love's entrenchhd sleepa Blotting out his war-world grim. Do these scenes come back to him? Ah, does he recall in dreams, One early, thrush-thrilled morn, May-sweet with English primrose And White with Howh'ing thorn? AGNES KENDRICK GRAY, 1911.