Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

Page 7 text:

Published by the Students of the Petersburg High School PETERSBURG, VIRGINIA. i Vol. III. MAY-JUNE, 1914. No. 6. A CHILD’S PRAYER. A little child, lovely and fair, Knelt by her crib for her evening prayer. And the nurse heard, as she entered the door. From the white-clad figure upon the floor: “Heavenly Father, I kneel and pray For America’s boys, who are far away. They sailed with hearts that were so brave. And I guess they knew they were facing the grave; So, O Lord, will you not go And help the trouble in Mexico? Then bring them back safe to us here, Because to us they are so dear. We’d thank you so much, oh, but still We only ask this — if it be Thy Will. Now, O Lord, as this prayer I make. Bless the Mexicans too, for Jesus’ sake.” The nurse then knelt down by the door. And prayed as she had ne’er prayed before. She prayed to the Lord for power from his hand To establish PEACE throughout our land. Dorothy McK. Spooner, ’i6.

Page 6 text:

• S0r)fei fs. A Child’s Prayer — Poem — Dorothy McK. Spooner, ’16 . Jane — Meyer Lavenstein, ’16 . . . The Mission of Flowers — Sketch — Ida Routh, ’16 . . The Whispering Trees — Virginia C. Ridenour, ’14 . . The Dreamer — Poem — M. Francis Drewry, ’14 ... . Editorials School Notes Athletics Alumni Notes . . ... Exchanges A Few Pointers Advertisements . .... ... 1 .... 2 8 ... 10 .... 18 20 23 26 . . . . 28 30 Interspersed 32

Page 8 text:

2 THE MISSILE. JANE. HE FATAL DAY had arrived at last. For four months it was anxiously awaited by the students of Roxville High School. The sun dimly shone through the hovering clouds, while a brisk wind blew the tattered autumn leaves to and fro. The bare trees seemed to add a note of stillness, though they did not affect the joy and merriment of the students who flocked on the narrow paths leading to the school entrance. Being very large, and fitted with modern conveniences, this school was proudly boasted of by every citizen of Roxville. A glance at the pupils would satisfy one that it was examination morn, for each was carrying a large blue pad — an emblem of approaching trials. It was the day for history examination, and at short intervals a burst of laughter could be heard, possibly at some foolish incident or some serious experience. But all were not merry; perhaps the unhappy ones had some reason. How many had not opened their books to study until the night be- fore? They were the ones with long faces and broad frowns. And how many had worked industriously dur- ing the term and were prepared for the test ? They could be identified by their merry humor and bright smiles. “I beg your pardon. Miss Wilson, but you dropped your exam, pad,” spoke young Arthur Hamilton, as he drew a pad from under his left arm and passed it to Jane Wilson. “Thank you, Mr. Hamilton; but to lose something to- day would not be remarkable,” she returned softly, as she pressed the pad against her arm.