Oregon City High School - Hesperian Yearbook (Oregon City, OR)

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THE HESPERIAN 13 Qlibe Girl with the Green 31.513111 Patricia O'Flaherty was the biggest little Irish-woman direct from Ireland that England ever knew. It did not matter to her, so the neighbors called her Patsy, or Patsy with the Green Bow. The little red house in which she lived was fairly hidden in scar- let scramblers and English Ivy. Did I say hidden? Yes? all except one little side where a row of spotless windows were built in for the sunshine to enter, filtering its golden sunbealns through the shade of the roses. The yard surrounding the house was just as beautiful as the little house itself-terraced lawns and rose bushes and hedges and trees a-plenty. Such a pretty place, so inviting, so comfortableg and yet Patsy thought it was lonely, for she had said to the next door neighbor, over the fence, drearily: Sure, and ye are saying I should be satisfied in my pretty little home. And I am telling ye, in return, that it takes more than a house to make a home. VVhen the ones ye love are all gone, with a small chance of being back-- and here the tears filled her eyes and her voice choked. Never mindf' her neighbor said. I think they will be back- I believe your husband will come back. He was such a big, brave, honest man, and you have been a very brave, patient, little woman, too, since he was called to the front. Can you not wait just a little longer? There is much talk of peace now and if it does come, will you not be all the happier in the thought that you have done your duty in keeping the little place in readiness for his return when he shall have finished working for the cause of justice and humanity? just wait a little longer,-go get your Irish harp and sing for me that old, sweet song that we both love so well, 'llflother lylachreef But Patsy remained deeply thoughtful. An irrepressible tremor shook her-unaccountable, yet almost unendurable. She remarked casually, as though she had not heard: I think I'll be joining the Red Cross Society soon. Nlaybe they'll then be sending me to France, where my O'Flaherty is. Ye are saying I ought to be happy in thinking he is fighting for my sake. Ye are happy, troth, for ye are rich, but I'm poor and cannot ransom him from the army's grasp like ye can yoursfl But I, too, am not as happy as you perhaps think. It is true that we are rich, but remember, dear, that all the wealth in the world cannot buy health and friends and love. Sure, and I'm not saying thatls untrue, and yet there are many advantages that ye have which I am not possessing, for that,-I'll not be saying 'good-by' 'til tomorrow, and thenif' Her eyes shone with gladness at the thought of meeting once

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12 g THE HESPERIAN Lonptell the men they would have some fun out of you and then kill you . Who is your father FI' he repeated. He's leader of the village. They call him 'Bad Reggie,' but hes not really bad. He's the best father in the World, she added with a touch of pride. I think I can prove to your father that I'm not an officer, if he will telegraph my friends-- You forget, Sir, she interrupted, that we don't possess such things as telegraphs in these mountains, and father wouldn't ride sev- enty-five miles to use one. He wouldnft dare! But please, sir, if they make you iight, don't flinch, but be brave. It may help you. Fight hard, and if Lon fights, look out. He doesn't play fairf, She paused, listening birdlike. Hush, she whispered, some one is coming. Gathering up her skirts she fled, bolting the door behind her. CHAPTER III. Reggie found himself out in the dark. His heart pounding fiercely against his breast. From the dance hall he turned, nearly running, in the direction of a small cabin located on a knoll, above the rest of the village. As he entered, a slight girl of eighteen raised her questioning brown eyes to his. Why, Daddy! she gasped. What's happened? You look so pale! He gazed at her mutely for a moment, then sank dejectedly into the nearest chair. After several moments he aroused himself. Sit down, Beatrice, I have something to tell you. He paused as though trying to collect his thoughts. Do you remember when you-- CTO be Continuedj BIRDSELL LADD, '19, JOYCE MASON, 'l9.

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14 at . G . .THE HESPWQN more, perhaps, her husband! Yet her face was singularly dreary, almost pathetically so. Q The morrow found her in its early hours busying herself in tying up a small bundle of necessities for future use. It was not long, how- ever, before she was on her way to London-a distance of perhaps ten miles from the suburb where she lived. Once there, she enlisted in one of those brave, hard-working, self-sacrificing women of the Red Crossl There were others, too, who signed up immediately following her-some going merely for the experince, others for the same purpose as Patrica O'Flaherty. H. NI. S. 'Rondell' lay at anchor at one of the many wharves that border the banks of the Thames, awaiting special instructions from certain war managers to transport some fifty women nurses to France. Among the possible fifty was Patsy-brave, honest, lonely, little Irish Patsy-the Girl with the Green Bow. And although the attire in which she was now clad was of white with a large, red cross in the front and a smaller one on either sleeve, it also had, in addition, a little green bow pinned at the neck but, however small, was made conspicuous by its background of spotless white. And so Patsy was thus far, the easiest part of her journey she realized was over,-the hardest to come. ' 'Had Fate, she mused as she sat on the upper deck of the 'fRon- dell,' looking at the small, white-capped waves below,- had Fate written her name upon his book, or was she to sail the Channel un- harmed? Was she to gain ,her destination at the French trenches where her O'Flaherty was fighting, ever struggling? Would Oppor- tunity open the way for her to administer his wounds, for few escape without wounds? Would she actually be able to surprise him, and pour all the words of love into his ears that she had stored up during the past two years ? The whistle blew shrilly and the engines of the 'fRondell were put in motion. Cheers from the shore caused her to look up. Already they were gliding away from the dock-they were off for France. are + an as are at Into the periscope of a German submarine, the commander was intently peering. Although it was dusk and a fog was beginning to form over the water, he was able to distinguish the dim outline of another vessel gliding swiftly through the water, evidently on its way to France. The flag ?-yes, it was the blue and red of England. The name F-It was too distant to be distinguished clearly, but the first few letters- Ro-could be determined. The commander gave the signal to run more swiftly to meet it. What cared he for a mere name? What cared he for lives? It was his business-his duty-to destroy. Had he not been given instructions from the Kaiser's war lords, to cripple the enemy whenever possible? Again he gave a signal, an inferior officer pressed a button.