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Page 16 text:
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fills Qllatazti' V V nnumInummm-mnummu-IIIuuInnummml.-mm lm-Imnu.IInuI1.I-InIx111vI11114.111-II111I144I1I1111vIa111unuuunmmmmuunmnmmmmm mmmmulmnnmmnmmn neck speed. It is with utter distaste that I frown on the clock at such times. It can be equally as provoking when I am bored to distrac- tion. In my hour of need, it gives a most convincing demon- stration of opposition, and I become momentarily more certain that the clock is clenching its hands in mute determination, thus slowing up their hourly journey. Of course, like everything else in the world, this pest has its merits. They are brought to light when it finally dismisses the bore, Who, for the past two hours, continued to glance at the clock in each dull pause in the conversation. At one time he may stupidly inquire, Is that clock running? This is a dead give-away, and after numerous similar re- ferences to the clock, I am only too glad to find that it hasn't stopped, and that the time for the bore Cand boredj to depart has arrived. It seems that there is no rest for the weary. I just recalled that it's time once more to wind the clock. However, I shall leave one spring unwound-the one that keeps the discordant chimes in action. Thus, I may in some measure avenge the countless moments of annoyance that it has caused me and teach the nuisance clock that silence is golden! On Leave By Dorothy Moore The danger of attack at last is gone. A soldier, getting leave, begins his trampg He's going home, he doesn't mind the damp Of muddy clothes and boots at rainy dawn. His smile is brightg he thinks sometimes with scorn Of warg so glad to leave a little While Its horrors far behind, and find a smile Of welcome there from everyone that morn. But thinking thus, he wanders far away, Forgetting cautiong hearing not the sound Of cannon, nearer, bullets whine around. Too late he turns to go another way, He stumbles, falls, a still and silent mound, Perhaps he's glad to leave this horrid fray. IIIIIIIIIIIllllllllllllllmlll . . . Page sixteen
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Page 15 text:
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Golden Moments a By Martha Williamson HAT chime clock was deceitful from the very first day of '7 ifl its arrival into the family. One of mother's oft-repeated desires had been fm- ally fulfilled. She had always said she'd rather have a Westminster chime clock than anything else she knew. A Due to this fact, she may have been suspicious of the of a rectangular cardboard box on first sight, the day ,- if S rif'f'5fE.3S . , i 1 . contents the gift was delivered to the house . Indeed, that was the thing we feared most, since it was yet a week before we wished to spring the surprise on her. All hope of the surprise, on the expected day, was im- mediately abandoned when Ccursed tyrantlj the clock began a series of tinklings and ding-dongs just at the crucial moment. I had somehow managed to get the thing smuggled past the prospective recipient, but, on lifting it to its hiding place, I was so careless as to tip it to one side-not much-but just enough to allow the individual parts of its mechanism to jolt against each other. Fatal error! It was now too late to make any ef- fort to silence it. Mother had heard it and was overjoyed. Un- happily, she was the only one who greeted the sound with de- lighted exclamations. You can see why I should be prejudiced against the diabol- ical machine from the start. Furthermore, it has continued its pranks unto this very day. It has an exceedingly annoying habit of telling me that it is time to get up when I am reasonably sure that I couldn't have slept more than ten minutes. However, on turning on the radio to verify my opinion, the announcer fvery cheerfully for such an early hourj settles the wordless dispute by saying, It is now exactly seven thirty-two, Eastern Standard Time. The correct time is brought to you through the courtesy of .... blah, blah, blah . . . The clock realizes its triumph and deliberately sends forth a derisive tinkle, tinkle. Here is my turn to sneer, for the iiendish thing has long since become lazy and refuses to strike until at least two minutes after it should. If I should happen to be enjoying myself and wishing that there were nothing to indicate the passing minutes, this only spurs the gloomy timepiece on to tick off the seconds at break- mmlmmmmmnunnummumnnumumnumummnnmnnvnnnunmnunummnnmmnnum nnummnunnnmmmnnnmvI1nnmnmnuununn n nlnv n 1 In 4 mln n Page fifteen . v V 9fill.S
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Page 17 text:
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v V EPHILS Ego By Robert Burgess , ,ful-Vu T WAS bitter cold, and . the wind cut through N Q H 1 ' patched uniforms chill- ' ' ing war-weary bones to ,fi n ' WQFQ. the marrow. Snow iiur- ' ries whirled and danced if -X +1 around the bombproofs of the Federal battery. However, with- in one of these small dugouts a group of soldiers sat and talked in comparative comfort. Gustave, one of the cooks, busied himself about the pre- paration of the midday rations while other blue-coated men sat about the fire warming themselves while they talked, slept, whittled, or repaired their personal equipment. It was a typical scene of camp life in winter quarters. The long period of in- activity was nearly over now, for the spring thaw was at hand. A young private tipped his chair against the damp sidewall of the bombproof kitchen. He smiled as he sipped his black coffee. The wind moaned about their shelter. Four years of grim war, he said with a chuckle, and here I am warm as a toast. He rocked back and took another sip of coffee. Yes, four years of grin: war, said Gustav as his wooden leg thumped across the floor. The young private realized that he had started 0E on the wrong foot 3 his color mounted, and he immediately tried to change the subject. The long winter of dormancy and close confinement was beginning to tell on the soldiers. Joseph In- gram, for one, would be mighty glad to hear the first trickle of the coming thaw. Private Ingram was the one who drank coffee so leisurely in the dugout. He was indeed a strange character, the-one-in- a-million type. Ingram lnone of his comrades in arms called him Joey was considered the biggest braggart and the best liar as well as the luckiest man in his entire regiment. In spite of his foolhardy audacity on the battlefield, he had come through four years of warfare unharmed. Ingram's wild stories of his My p I 5 .5 N x 1 JP: 1' w-ai-gre' rf- if ' EH.. ' ,- l U 'vi 1' ' AW' wcnmuusr. .l,I1, ,' ,N V,,,'A.l4 lnligifa, llu,:.Il.'i, Lf , -,li r,,.- .I K'-' ml 'VM-:fe wfux 'iff' E'-H .4 - lt-.' . rs lf?fltl V,'f.f'g fn ffl'!f.'f .ffrr,15yZ fiat-3: 1' -40 ii -'-Ib.,--5 N., ici.-rw.: g1.g1.l.5f, fly -f,ff5?e,:-,l.,.g1gL,t::.rg',g:fI.u .1?2?f,'lg.fv'l! Ilya 1. - ' y ff..-A-'Y-',1 3, f'l'QfLi'l,V'Q.'Q.if,j,f'.',jl' ' '1'kSf, l- .:l'1!i. 7' V-'3IF'l:gt4',1kflVEtjfiQ lvliI,'3:l5.:ji'3..1cf ,x:ql:ff31v,'..i ! .. '.x-,i, : '4 ,1 H-' .-l ,,f'.l'2-23 'v1T'dl.'v.L1lvL'l',l ,'lj' as. fulfil g','fi'ff v,a.g2.7:lv..- -.l,ll5l'a.!' J nl 1 'll24 '1:1!f4.f il Ul'i'i- ' V Hr' l Nw. '-'Afniilil' W H'77 4-, . f'2i1T'Y'-'xl-'X :'W f'f' Y -N U 1-M4l,l,,,? 'Az Ill'-,-,Jap ,.1fh.L,: filly.. -.mwlxx-te., .1 ,, ,,,-1-cv.: gg ':,'.l'f'-,hy iraq' .4,g:.g11- Af, .Q-5, -:- UQ-f , . -via '- 11:1 iv+.G1-'- f iler- '5?:iEYQ!J ' - Gian W - ' if ' -Q xiii: Ff7 t'H ' W, V 2377's '. ' 11' lf - IVE 4. . Q, i., QQ w -- -Wt. f-1.5 if sh i- rt-,if-,.--.l W, ,, ., N !,l,L.k nhxjhi I:--I' ...Misa . -4 ef' ,. i i'l l'3'?-'?1i'A.i' it -We Z ' ' - si' - f P ' 'W'i?'+'w ,if . ' - c, .f- j xt 'xg' O! -. M , j .tial ' Page seventeen . . .
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