Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

Page 23 text:

THE MISSILE. 17 “Yes,” she said in a low, soft voice. “There are lovely walks near that spot, for the woods at Oakland are the loveliest in the world. They were my inspiration, and I shall seek them again to inspire me to other things. And I want to thank you for the happiness you and your fa- ther have added to my life.” When a week later Phil, and Mercer were walking slowly under the trees of Oakland, the latter were again whispering, and seemed even more anxious to meet their lofty summits to protect the two in their walk — through life. Can you guess the secrets they this time were whispering? V. C. Ridenour, ’14. NEW SCHEDULE. The railway train had just put in a tango playing ma- chine. ‘Are we running on eastern or central time?” asked a passenger. “Neither,” replied the Conductor, wearily, “rag time.” FROM ZERO TO WARMTH. Teacher (severely) What will your father say to your low average? Youngster (with hesitation) — When dad sees Fm down to zero he’ll “warm me up,” I guess. THEY WERE SATISFIED. Sunday School Teacher (telling of they deluge) — And it rained for forty days and forty nights. Johnny — Were the farmers satisfied then?

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1 « THE MISSILE. say not once did she think of Phil, and Phillip being the same man. The dancing was gaily going on. Every one was in the livel iest of spirits. Mercer was having a delightful time talking to a funny little Frenchman out on the piazza- She had danced until she felt quite tired; so she gladly substituted for the last dance a seat on the piazza, where the moonbeams spread softly, lighting it up. Soon she heard the voice of Louise near her: “Phil., here is Mercer, of whom I have spoken so often to you and Brother in my letters. I want to introduce you to her.” Mercer turned around and met the staring gaze of Phillip Hartley. “You!” she exclaimed in a joyful, surprised tone. “I don’t understand; but I felt I knew Robert’s friend, and it really has turned out that I do.” “Why didn’t you tell me you knew each other?” Lou- ise cried. “Come, Mr. Lovelace, here is that special vari- ety of rose Mother has just been fortunate enough to se- cure for her garden. This one just picked is a beauty.” So Louise carried Mercer’s little French acquaintance to examine the rose. Then Phillip told Mercer how he knew the charming friend Louise had to introduce to him, how interested he had been in her progress as an artist, and how happy her final success had made him. “You know I can never forget our meeting and how good you were to me. I am going back to your home with you when you go, for I want to visit the spot of our meeting, indeed I should like to remain in Oakland this whole summer, for there my heart is. May I?”

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18 THE MISSILE. THE DREAMER. The sun fast sinks in the west; The day is done. The splendid clouds their glory have shed With setting sun. ’Tis the time of thought for the dreamer, The sweetest hour of repose, When the deepening shadows of twilight The beautiful world enclose. What thoughts will come to the dreamer As daylight fades? What will he dream to-night ’Mid gathering shades? He dreams not of the past. Nor of years that yet be ahead: Of the past he harbors few memories; Of the future naught doth he dread. Then what does he muse in the gloaming At evening tide ? Of what does he dream ’mid the shadows That daylight hide? He dreams of castles and gardens. Of mountains and countries afar. He muses of power and people. Dreams that no care can mar.