Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

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' v O O un u 1Inu11III11IIIiInIIIi1IImum-uummumiIiIii1i111I111-I11I--11Iun1iiaumnnuunununn Retribution By Alice Jones ,, , -,,, HEAVY coach adorned gffgf with the crest of the M ' ,V 'Z' t Duc de Viloque lumber- 'V TF ed along the Paris road at as brisk a pace as was possible, consider- Q. ing the condition of the road and -Q RX i the facilities of transportation. 1 ! The day was a cloudy, dreary H ff' if I M i one in the late autumn of 1787, but neither the bleak weather nor the jolting of the coach ,Lp F Kim K Q ri-'Si' seemed to disturb the animated 555179 conversation of the two occu- pants. The dark, intense face of the young Duc de Viloque was lighted by a smile of happiness as he bent over his lovely daughter. Ah, but, Henriette, there are some advantages in spend- ing your birthday in Paris. I am sorry, indeed, that business takes me to the city when you wish to be with your friends for the long-anticipated birthday party, but you shall have it when we return to Bonne Retraite. Besides, the shops of Paris afford many things we cannot obtain elsewhere. You shall have frocks and slippers and other fal de rals . . . any gear that you desire. We will pi-.tk out a wardrobe, you and I, Hen- riette, cherie, fit for even la belle princessef' She smiled at his use of the name by which the adoring peasantry of Bonne Retraite were want to designate her. Her small, flower-like face beamed with joy as she leaned forward with her hand on her father's arm. A tendril of her pale, shin- ing hair blew across his cheek. The touch of it was a soft caress, and Lisle wound it gently around his finger. And books, she continuedg Lisle, you promised a great many books. Because I shall be fourteen. Of course, he assented, and the doll you have wanted. Or are you too much of a young lady for that, now that you have nearly reached the great age of fourteen ? Oh no! no I came her quick protest and then the clear, soft sound of her fairy laughter. Ah, but now you're laughing at me. 'W' HIM V -. ', , ,' -,, '-' , . MEIN- L -1,'T ....-Q- VI 'fi . -5 ag '-si. is' . - 1' -' . . ' ' ' , ,i'2?fi?i,1if. xx, f fjwzvi, 11 '-'iffifilz ' ,Pb 'tw' ?'n'.',t. ' ':f I'fa'4w ' . V- W3i1::f, '- I -u f?94f,'3' ' ' .'i1'i 'l '2g3r'LIM. ' ' U' mr, flf ' ,'fgr'.JLw..n' Wifi? Z' 'f7 F. -'i .n. A ' 1!fQ'i'ff55-Q? f. 1 . , f,.'a'1f.j.rg f.'5'.I-'iam-ere - , -I .,-.Vpv -:-i- . Z4 , I , . ,yi .' 1 .4 1. ,daffpx fc Q ,I l l fi't'f'fg Ji' 51 2. it 5f1 5 I N f 'nwyfl- .f lv my 1 U fn-1' X f 1 2.52 ' I.-. - ' 21.3 P f- ' ' if' if'-1- , 0- fi -1' . , 4 .,,,,,..?,,:- I Page nine . mnummlu

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ajail 9niAAlt0,, v V BILL fdropping the doughnut into a paper sackj-I think I'll turn you back into dough. DOUGHNUT-I always did everything in my turn and now ' I'm being cached. It looks like I'm a dead ringer. ACT III Bill places some money on the counter as the owner enters. OWNER-Was it good? BILIE-Vtgas it good? I ! It was wonderful! tHe starts towards oor. OWNER-That's fineg fthen adds doubtfullyb I hope you have what it takes to get along. BILL fgrasping the bag tighter and staggering out the doorj- It's in the bag, boy .... It's in the bag! CURTAIN I m A Ballat Dancer By Nowland Pittman Like a dream she floats and glides and turns, With the winged grace of some fairy fair And movement like unto silver chiffon, Floating smoothly thru the air. She laughs and cries and smiles and sighs, And yet she utters not a word 3 You glide along on the wings of a song, As she dips and runs like a fleeing bird. She holds you lightly on her hand, And laughs at your awkward antics and youg With a pirouette she turns to pause And slips away like a ghost in blue. ...................................................... . . . Page eight

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uggc cofubditen Why, what is it, cherie? he exclaimed suddenly, at the sight of her crestfallen look. Oh, Lisle, I forgot! Jeanne and Rosanne, Vivi, Marie, Jacqueline and Charlotte would like to have something from Paris. Oh, I would much rather not have the doll! We were going to spend so much on her. Couldn't we spend it on dolls for each of my friends? Oh, please, Lisle dear! You are going to say that they need clothes more. But couldn't you give them, and let the dolls be my presents? You know, everybody enjoys gifts that aren't absolutely necessary more than those that are, don't you think ? she concluded, suddenly serious, gaz- ing at him intently with the wide dark eyes that were so start- ling a contrast to her blond hair and the pallor of her face. He yielded, as he always did where she was concerned, and Henriette turned a radiant face toward the window, happy in the contemplation of a dream that would come true. Not so happy were Lisle de Tournee's thoughts. Although he spoke of most things to Henriette, his constant companion since her mother's death, he would not trouble her generous, sensitive nature by telling her that the people of Paris would be only too grateful for a crust of black bread every day, aside from other bare necessities. He himself thought of this all too frequently. The aristocrats were so blind, they did not see that they themselves were pouring oil on the embers kindled by hatred and oppression, and that they would soon be consumed by the fire ignited by their own cruel injustices . . . a fire that would ravage all France. Lisle de Tournee had said these things eloquently, passionately to all the stately, bored gentlemen who visited Bonne Retraite. The open contempt of some and the cynicism of all drove him to despair. When one of his friends remarked, Viloque, you're a good fellow, and I suppose this is merely your diversion-collecting strange philosophies like M. Voltaire's as I collect snuff boxes. Well, one must do some- thing, Viloque had been at a loss for a reply. This was all wrong. Such an attitude was incomprehensible! It was follow- ing this discussion that Viloque, with all his ardent fervor, had thrown himself whole-heartedly into the business of reforming his estate. Many of the beautiful paintings from the gallery of Bonne Retraite, collected by generations of Viloques, had been sold by this last scion that the peasants of the estate might have other things besides food and shelter. Viloque's thoughts turned to the child at his side. Indulged . . . Page ten