Pennell Institute - Whirlpool Yearbook (Gray, ME)

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THE WHIRLPOOL 9 The pearls were all of ordinary size. Still he worked on, thinking, dreaming that the next day, the next day he would find the pearl. He grew old. The waves seemed colder, colder. The little breeze that had blown softly round the rocks where he cured his oysters seemed rougher, rougher. He no longer worked all day, but often sat on the shore in the shelter of a rock and watched the sea-birds, skimming over the water in the distance grow fainter and fainter as his sight dimmed. He had become wealthy. His blameless life had gained for him the love and respect of his tribe. But to him his life seemed worthless because he had not found the pearl. His search was almost ended. But he would not give up the aim of his whole life without one more attempt. He went down to the water for his last dive and came up with a few pearl oysters in the bottom of his basket. He was too tired to go farther and sat down on a rock to rest. Tightly ¢lasping his basket in his hands, he fell asleep. In his dream a voice came to him, saying, “Be at peace. Thou hast the pearl for which thou hast sought.” But the pearl diver asked sorrowfully, “What if I can not get it out? I have toiled many years and am feeble. It is too late. Now I ean offer Buddha no gift.” Suddenly there glowed around him a soft effulgence, a subdued radiance, which mysteriously he knew to be glowing from his pearl. His pearl! What a wondrous pearl it must be thus to fill the air with its varied rays! Then out of the mist came the voice, saving gently, ‘The radiance cometh not from one of those pearls in the basket, but from one far more precious and beautiful than they. The white ray is thy pure, innocent life; the azure light, thy faithfulness; the rose-colored glow, love for thy wife and children; and the green ray, the immortality of thy soul. The pearl is thy life-long work, thy work, which alonce.is a fitting gift to Buddha.” HazrtL Wooprery, 712. How the Deputy Traced the Murderer The play was held in an old-fashioned district school-house. It was given by the pupils of Miss Hayes’s school. Directly after the play the spectators started home. The school-house was nearly empty when Tom Raywood came for Miss Hayes. In a little while the lights were all cut and the room was still. One could still hear in the distance the jingle of the sleigh bells. Then there was a loud crash. There in the darkness lay the prostrate form of Steve Cronk. Once in a while there was a hollow groan. finally he rose and half walked and half crawled over to the teach- ers desk. He groped about and found, lying on the desk, a small bit of cloth. With this he wiped the bloed from his face and then opened a win-

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§ THE WHIRLPOOL, L ar The Workman Is Made By Working The pearls were numerous but they were small. The pearl diver sat down wearijy on the sand to dry himself after a dive. He looked at his basket, overHowing with pearl oysters and wondered: “ Might there be a pearl among them larger and more beautiful than I have yet found? I have had many little pearls to exchange with the tradesmen this year. My little ones have had plenty of meat and the wife more necklaces and bracelets than any other woman of the tribe. But if I could find a large pearl, a precious pearl, fit to pu t in Buddha’s throne in the temple! I would set it in the trumpet of the herald on the highest arch of the throne, and there it would blaze with matchless fire, a token of my loyalty to Buddha.” Ievery day did this passionate longing to find a matchless pearl burn in the pearl diver’s mind. He no longer went with his companions on lnunt- ing expeditions into the great forests. The sea had no more charms for him save as a place in which to find the pearl. When he had located a bed of pearl oysters, how untiringly he would work, diving and filling his basket! When they had cured, how carefully he would wash out the pearls, looking eagerly for a pearl fit for Buddha’s throne! But always—disappointment! One morning there was a great commotion in the little village. The king had sent a messenger to summon his followers for an expedition against the rich lands of a neighboring king. Quickly a band was collected. The pearl diver was asked to accompany it. He thought of exciting adventures with wild animals in crossing the dangerous passes in the mountains, of fighting and conquering the enemy, of the triumphal return with the spoils, and all but forget the pearl. He almost consented to go. Then before him in a mist arose the vague outlines of a lofty throne, imposing, grand, gleam- ing with jewels. But at the top of the throne the herald’s trumpet was blank. No radiant jewel was there. Andon the herald’s face was a look of reproach. Then the vision vanished; the old desire returned. The pear! diver refused to go and returned to his work. He found more pearls than ever before. The beds were many and large. He worked long, faithfully, but his hopes were not realized.

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LOL PLL OEE LOL, LS Ne ee Swe Be 10 THE WHIRLPOOL dow and drepped out. He walked a way and then rested, until he was taken in by Junk Brown, who happened along. Junk was a thief and he Was just returning from one of his moonlight rides. The next day there was a rumor that the teacher had disappeared and there was a bloody handkerchief on the schoolroom floor. The village deputy was informed and he set out to trace the murderer. Soon there was a crowd at the school-house and everybody was listening to the deputy and some were trying to get a word in edgewise. “T know,” said the deputy, “that this is blood from the brain ’cause I larned that much when I went to the deestriet school years ago. Now this ’ere blood is brain blood and this is a lady’s hankyehief with a ‘TI’ ‘broidered in one corner. ‘H’ stands fer Hayes as sure as [ stand here on my two feet.” “But, Mister Crane,” spoke up Junk Brown, “ I-—--—— “Tut, tut, we doan want none o’ your hash; eny man wid an addicashun ‘van-see all I’ve been a tellin’ ye. Now you, Bill an’ Joe an’ Mike, you all trace them sleigh tracks down by Pig medder, and zry an’ Neb an’ Jim an’ .oeeYes, you Junk might’s well come along.” “But,” said Junk, “I can pete ‘Never mind! You all do what I tells ye to. What am JI deputy of this hull shebang for, anyhow?” “But,” said Shifty, “He might... 1 mean he can...” “Perceed, all hands 0’ ve,” shouted Crane. They walked through woods, over bridges, and after a great many twists and turns they came to a small lake with one of its shores lined with many cottages. The sleigh tracks led to the largest of these and to this one they went. They did not stop to knock but simply walked in. They were no socner inside che cottage than the deputy saw standing before him the school teacher. He stared at her until she said, “Whom do you want, Mr. Crane?” “Why,” said Crane, “why. er ...er why, I—weel, you see, didn’t nobody known where yer wuz hangin’ out an..... an’ as there wuz some blocd down to the school-house an’ a hankychief with a ‘H’ in the corner an’ a lot a blood onto it, an’ some bloody tracks, an’ so we. er... I calkerlated as sombody must er wal... er took your life.” “Oh no,” said Miss Hayes, “only dear Tom came for me and took me out here. Mr. Crane, this is Mr. Raywood, the man I’m engaged to marry.”’ “Pleased to ter meet cher, Mister,’ said Crane, “weel, we must be goin’. C’mon, b’ys.” They took the same road by which they had come, and in two hours ‘ame to the outskirts of the town. “Now,” said Junk, “1 guess I'd a better tell yer now what cher wouldn’t lemme tell yer before. That blocd came from a cut that Steve Cronk gut