Ossining School for Girls - Quill Yearbook (Ossining, NY)

Page 93 text:

THE QUILL for 1916 The two mountaineers rose to go into the house and the boy had reached the door, when the silence was broken by the sound of a bullet, and the dull thud of a body. He turned-a dirt and tobacco stained man, any- where from fifty to a hundred years old, slowly sauntered from out the bushes to the left of the shack. I reckon yeu don't wanter be killed, do ye, Jed? Now ef yelll jest be sensible, you won't make no fuss a-tall an' come to live with we all. We all ain't got no reason fer to shoot yeu-all we wanted wuz yer Pa, an' he's daid. Now yeu come along with old Peter Whitenby. Expression after expression passed across the listening boy's face-sorrow, grief, a fierce sort of anger, stubbornness, incredulity-all left a look of hopeless resignation. I'll come. Kain't ye wait? I'm a gonta bury Pa. Peter Whitenby stepped back into the bushes and waited. J J Finally, Jed came, and they went off together in' silence. J Jed seemed to be taken right into the Whitenhy family and, though of a rather taciturn nature. seemed to appreciate each kindness even beyond its worth.. He worked out in the fields with Peter and his sons, taking an occasional day off for a tramp or an apple bee at a nearby farm. The boys would go in to lunch, leaving Peter and Jed to finish up, and put the horse in the barn, for, in the afternoons, they worked at the distillery. One afternoon, in late October, Peter and Jed had gone to the barn, when Peter saw Jed staggcr, almost falling. He hastened to the rescue. A bitter smile curled the corners of J ed's mouth. Ye killed my Pai' he said. A shot rang out and the S0UUd Of running feet echoed through the empty bam- . Genevzeve Race. 87

Page 92 text:

THIS QUILL for 1916 Bittersweet UNIIC on in hyar, Pa. Hain't ye gonta eat nothin'? Ye go on back, Jed, an' shet up. I'll be comin' when l'm good an' ready. The grizzly old mountaineer did not even turn, as he spoke, to look at the anxious faced young boy whose lank figure was outlined in the one rude door of the old log cabin, but kept his head in his dirty tanned hands as before. The hoy turned and silently disappeared, but in a short time was back again. Aw, Pa, kain't ye eat nothin'? The old man turned fiercely, as if to strike, but his hand dropped and his face softened-if you could call his grim half smile soft. Why, Jed, I dunno but I will, senec ye're so sot on it, and he passed through the door. The man made a bare pretense of eatingg then arose and, taking his gun with him, went out to his solitary post on the stoop. The boy silently washed the few broken dishes, and cleaned the one room as best he could, when, stopping suddenly, he listened, an anxious expres- sion on his face. J ed ? XVhat, Pa ? Come hyarf' The boy put up the corn he was husking and went to the door. ND' SN down, Jed, the old mountaineer began. hmatuzslgepglier yar back when yer Ma was a-l1v1nZ enby s an we all fit, an' we beat 'em ?' , up Stflllped. The boy nodded his head, and kept his wide excited eyes on his father' H u tiilvil. old Peter Wlhitenby sez t'other day, sez he, uid NIL IrFCliOI1Cd they wuz ready to fight it out if we U 112: . . he old ma,n stopped impressively. Jed, T93 run t nobody lef but you an' me but we're gonta kill the whole lyin' bunch. Air ye ready, boy? 86

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THE QUILL for, 1916 Our Garden Our garden-plot is swept by Ill-1uck's wind QT he spot where J oyis most precious blossoms grewj And when the raging storm has passed, we find Where once were many flowers, oh so few Look up to greet no falling dews or rain, Hot suns, instead, send down a drought-Despair- The promised fruit is lost, nor borne again. Yet still may thrive a new spot doubly fair, If Care and Prudence will the young sprouts tend In richer soil, will sprinkle them with cheer And clip Regret's unwholesome weeds. They'll send To fruiting season, hardy plants-and there, Where Joy burst forth one time in tender shoots, Will Happiness cling fast with sturdier roots. 88