Pendleton High School - Wakeipa Yearbook (Pendleton, OR)

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fallen but Bob reached forward and caught her. She was very pale and he led her to the sofa, where after a brief moment she gained control of herself. Tell me, Jenny, what does this mean? Why are you here? he asked her again. HOI1, you wouldn't understand. It 's foolish. but I cannot help it. You probably know that this house is to be sold. Oh, l cannot think of it, dear old Torrey House, and she seemed almost on the verge of tears again. UI don't believe I understand, Jenny. Wliy do you hate to see it sold? I am Jenny Lynn Torrey,'7 she said proudly. HI am the daughter of Randolph and Alice Lynn Torrey. I was only a mere child when my parents died, and I was taken away by a dear aunt. Aunt Isabel certainly did all she could for mef' Jennie's eyes filled with tears. HI have always been called Jennie Lynn because I looked so much like my mother, whose picture hangs in the library. Wliile Aunt Isabel lived, the taxes were paid on Torrey House for we planned to return some day. When she died l found that it took all her small estate to pay debts, so I was left penniless and alone in the world again a11d I came back here to be near Torrey House. It seems that I am nearer heaven and Father and Mother and Aunt Isabel when l'm here than anywhere. I often come here of evenings and play the songs Father loved so well and recall the happy days of my childhood. 77 f'You poor, poor girl, Bob said as he put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. HThen Torrey House is haunted and I've caught the ghost, a real live one and l'm going to keep her forever and We'll live in Torrey House and Granny Ollirien ean come and live with us and we'll be very happy. Every evening the little ghost will play for the new owner of Torrey House. Tomorrow I'll make out the final papers for the place and tomorrow evening the gates of Torrey House will be open again. Does that suit you?l' V HOh, it can't be true, it eanlt be true, she said as she put her arms around his neck. MARY DO UGLASS CHISHOLM. Zi Toast tu the Seniors Hail to the Seniors! Hail to the Seniors! Hail to the Senior Ulass ly We are what we claim to be, Have become what we aimed to beg Through earnest endeavor and honesty, For our motto is HThrough the Harbor into the Sea. l87l

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'Q' the ceiling, past the ceiling into the rooms above and was answered by other voices from the adjoining rooms. Bob found the sweat standing out on his brow as he quickly left the room. Going into the hall he climbed the wide carpeted stairway and began to explore the rooms above. Everywhere his steps were noiseless and he had almost forgotten about the piano when he distinctly heard a door close downstairs. He started and dropped the vase, which he was examining. ,lt fell to the floor with a crash. His hands shook violently and for the first time he would have liked to have been out of this mysterious place. He listened, but hearing no other sound, he thought himself only excited and continued his explorations. Everywhere he found things just as they had been left, even the beds covered with elaborately em'broidered spreads, quite yellow and faded with age, Hlld wiiardrobes filled with ruffled gowns of silk and satin. After spending almost an hour looking at the luxuries of a quarter of a century before, Bob descended the stairs, avoided the gloomy dreary draw- ing room and went into what he considered a library or study. Here he found volumes and volumes of the choicest of literature and soon lost him- self entirely over a selection from a favorite author, when the quaint melodies of an old song reached him from the drawing room. His heart seemed to stop beating and a lump in his throat choked him. He felt his hair rise from his head and a sickening horrible feeling came over him. The music came in volumes, first soft and low, then loud, and the very house seemed to tremble and answer to those strains which issued from that dreary lonesome room and floated into the library, Hlld beat against his ears with terrific force. He stood as if turned to stone, then he suddenly started as if someone had struck him, for on the opposite wall Jenny Lynn smiled down upon him. Her dress was quaint and old-fashioned and in her hand she held a small Bible. Bob rubbed his eyes to see if he was dreaming, when the music in the drawing room trailed off into a dreamy waltz and ceased. He listened intently. Silence reigned over the entire house. Then he heard a sob. He seemed to awake from a dream. Was that 11ot an echo of the sob he had heard that afternoon? Before he knew what he was doing, he was standing on the threshold of the drawing room. But what did he see there? Not a ghost, but a real live human being, a young girl sobbing as if her heart would break. 'tJenny Lynn,'i he gasped, Hfor heaven 's sake. what are you doing here? She was startled and jumping up, leaned back upon the keys of the piano which groaned in a sorrowful tone. She swayed and would have lSGl

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life in the Biology Qlllass ISS FLEGEL arrives at the school-house. She is .feeling fine this morning. Witli Miss Ross, she marches past the office to show Mr. Landreth that she is on time for once. S 135- Visits Miss Ross in the English room for ten minutes. 8:45- Hits the Biology room with a bang, full of good resolutions in regard to order, discipline and work. She sets h-er jaw firmly and resolutely pushes open the door. A barrage of 4'Howdies greets her, 8:47- After much searching she discovers her book in Slyvia Christopher's desk. She seats herself to enjoy a few minutes of studying. 8 :48-- Rol Morrison breezes in. At the party last night, Miss Flegel? UNO, Mr. Morrison. Rol begins a long description of the night before. Miss Flegel listens patiently. lt would do no good for her to try to study now. 8:56- John Simpson ushers himself in. Am I late, Miss Flegel'Z No, Mr. Simpson. OhI What is that on your desk? A pomegranate. ' ' A-what ? A lengthy discussion of the habits, growth and value of the pomegranate follows, in which Miss Flegel answers at least a hundred questions from every member of the class. 8:58- Miss Flegel goes into the laboratory. John Simpson takes the floor and gives a lecture on everything from football to worms. 9:00- Miss Flegel still absent. The lecture is gaining in volume. 9:04- Miss Flegel enters the room. She has been heard in the distance, and John is seen carefully studying the encyclopedia. Miss Flegel scents mischief. What are you doing, Mr. Simpson? l88l