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

Page 94 text:

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

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 95 text:

THE QUILL for 1916 But Phillis hath too hard a heart, Alas that she should have it. It yields no mercy to desert Nor grace to those that crave it. -Lodge. HE gardens and park adjoining St. James were often used for rendezvous. Sometimes a great lady, weary of the lights and gaiety of the palace, chose to walk with her lover among rosebushes and the fountains. Sometimes, a dispute, heated over the card tables and wine, grew into a quarrel, and the principals met in the park to terminate the disagreement as gentlemen of honor. The guards had grown accustomed to this order o-f the times, and were too wise to disturb either lonely couple or groups in the shadows. That was the reason why the single watcher was allowed to remain unnoticed. Wrapped in a heavy horseman's cloak, he seemed to have no desire other than to keep the freedom of the park, alone. Once, he lifted his dark lantern, and slid back the shade turning the light on the watch in his hand. The yellow glow at the same time lit up his face. Heavy eyebrows, sullen dark eyes, a well-formed nose, thin lips, and a heaxy chin, were for an instant illumined. A strong face, and yet--- The so-ft rustle of silk, a light step on the grass, and, with a low laugh, a girl brushed his shoulder with her hand. Dreaming, John? Or have the witches turned you to stone that you did not hear me coming? I vow I made such a clatter that I expected captain and guard would all be at my heelsf' Phillis! Both little hands were pressed to hiS lips. You have come at last. For a time, I feared that you could not get away. Your father has changed so since you came to town. Has he made you GDB' more trouble ?,' 89