Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

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THE MISSILE. 13 was a stranger over whom she was bending, trying so hard to bring him to consciousness. Soon he stirred slightly, opened his eyes, and in a far-off voice asked where he was. As she saw this, she got up at once and in a very unconcerned voice said: “Sir, you have just had a little accident; your horse must have gotten away from you. I think you are all right now, though you did have quite a fall.” Phillip Hartley, for it was he, while she was talking, be- came more and more like himself and slowly got upon his feet. He could not help being attracted by the girl, for, due to excitement, her eyes, as blue as the sky above, sparkled, and her checks were flushed to an unusually be- coming hue. “I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness. I guess I’d still be lying in that ditch if you had not come to my assistance. I can’t imagine why Search Light be- came so frightened at just a piece of white paper in the road. But he is fiery anyway. Oh, in this excitement I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Phillip Hartley; I guess you have heard about our being here. May I have the pleasure of not only knowing the name of my rescurer, but of seeing much of her in the future ? Oh, what have you there ? Are you really an artist ? Why that is just splendid. My father must see it, for he en- joys collecting sketches and bits of hand-painted scenery. Phil, had grown more and more excited as he spoke, and, due to his weak condition, he leaned heavily against a tree. At his sudden outburst Mercer told him (she never knew when or how) all about her father’s blindness and her being unable to realize her dream of becoming an artist on account of not having the necessary means to study.

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12 THE MISSILE. was extremely good-looking. Of course, she would only get a glimpse at him, never have the good fortune of con- versing with or meeting him. But fate decreed otherwise and Mercer did have this good fortune. Mercer’s greatest delight in life was to wander through the beautiful woods which bordered Oakland, where she could be alone with nature. She was nature’s child. The tall, patient pines, the sweet, modest violets, and the gay, warbling brook were her teachers. She also took great pleasure in sketching nature’s pictures. Indeed, her ar- tistic talent was wonderful; it only lacked the polish which good masters could easily add. However, this was one of Mercer’s burdens to bear, for her father had just mon- ey enough to support them, none for schooling. One evening, about a month after the beautiful June day when the Hartleys arrived in Oakland, Mercer, leav- ing her father resting on his couch, ran joyously to her favorite haunt, the woods. She had her sketch book with her, since she was completing a very pretty little scene which she was specially anxious to make good. As soon almost as she took her seat on a large rock on the edge of the brook, she heard a dull noise as of a struggle, fol- owed by a deep groan. She jumped up immediately and rushed to the nearby road. She saw lying in the ditch a a man whom she could not recognize on account of the thick clouds of dust which enveloped him, and heard the distant gallop of a horse. She hurried to the man and literally dragged him to the edge of the wood, for he was unconscious, and wiped the bleeding forehead with her handkerchief, dampened by the cool water of the brook. She was so excited by the accident and agitated by the sight of blood that she did not think of the fact that it

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14 THE MISSILE. Phillip could not persuade Mercer to allow him to take her to his father then. She left him, taking a short cut through the woods to her cottage. Phillip walked slowly and thoughtfully home, where he met his father at the gate. “My son, what has happened to you? Your forehead has been cut.” Mr. Hartley asked in an anxious voice. “Oh, Father, I am all right now, for one of the loveliest girls I have ever laid eyes upon brought me to life. I was shaken up a bit. I’ll admit; but how could a fellow not get well at once when doctored by such a girl ? You must meet her, Father.” After much questioning, Mr. Hartley finally understood that both he and his son were greatly indebted to a fair young lady, the daughter of one of his school chums, he thought, for her kindness to his son. He also understood that this young lady wished to become an artist, but lack- ed the necessary means for culture. Phillip was anxious to send her to school; but as he fully realized she would never go at his expense, he was anxious for his father to visit Mr. Craighton and induce him to allow Mr. Hartley to educate Mercer. “Of course, I do not want her to know that I am going to bear the expense. Father, but I should never be happy unless I could afford her that great joy,” Phillip had said. And so it happened that the trees were whispering again on a September day just two months later, for Mer- cer Craighton was leaving the village on that day to take a course in art in New York. Mercer’s day of success had come. She had won the first prize at the Art Exhibition for her simple but true-