Plymouth High School - Mayflower Yearbook (Plymouth, IN)

Page 15 text:

C. K. HARRIS. A. B., B. S. Lebanon College. A. B. '05 Ohio State University, B. S. Science M. ADELAIDE MCGUIRE Chicago Musical College, '04 Columbia School oI Music Music and Akt ALICE M. LANCDON Michigan State Normal College I. III MARIAN' O. E. MCDOWELL. A. B. M. AURA SOUTHWICK Michigan Slate Normal College, 10 Domestic Science and art 13 Indiana University. '08 Mathematics

Page 14 text:

 FI.I.A M WISEMAN. A. M. Indiana University. A B. 1909; A. M. 1912 English I'KARI. M. DANIELS. ! H. B. I Diversity of Chicago, 'II Gkrman and Latin I.HONORK Y. SULLIVAN . Cleary College, ’04 Kastman College. 'OS Michigan State Normal College COMMI KCIAI DrpARTMliNT j 12

Page 16 text:

Alumnar THE RETURN MAZL M. SANDS Class of 1911 WELL, I guess I’d better be goin’ along home—it’s near supper time and I ain’t got no idea what to have. I get so tired of cooking!” Mrs. Mills drew her shawl about her thin shoulders as she arose. “My land, Nettie, you've got it nice, only the two of you to do for, since Mary’s gone. How is Mary, anyway, or ain’t you heard from her lately?” “Oh, yes. Wait a minute and I’ll show you her last letter.” In a moment she returned with the pages of girlish scribbling. “Just listen to this: ‘I’ve got seven- teen scholars now and bought me a piano yesterday. Your loving daughter.' She’s awful young to be earning her own living, ain’t she? Hut it seemed like she was just cut out for a music teacher, she always learnt it so easy.” Mary’s mother spoke proudly. “Well, good-bye, come over when you get time.” Mrs. Hennett closed the door behind her visitor and went to the window. The dusk was deep and the rain fell in a monotonous drizzle. The chill dampness seemed fraught with a sense of unknown fear and evil. The old eyes were full of tears and the letter was crushed against the trembling lips in a sudden longing ten- derness. “O Mary!” murmured the mother heart. 4c 4c 4c 4 4c The kitchen was very quiet and comfortable. The clean white curtains were drawn closely over the windows, shutting out the dreary wet darkness and leaving within only the homely comfort of the two people seated there. The old clock ticked away the seconds, the last patch was finished, the Weekly Journal was folded and laid aside and at last the bright wood fire died down. “Pa, to-morrow is Mary’s birthday.” Pa Hennett came out of his doze with a start. “Sufferin’ cats! Is it? How old is she, anyway?’' “ Nineteen.” “Sufferin’ mack’rel! Don’t seem like she’s that old, does it? Where is that picture Lem Bowers took of her when she graduated?” “Here, but I don’t s’pose she looks much like that now, do you?” Mary’s father drew her mother into his arms and together they gazed silently at their darl- ing. The young face was a delicate oval and the soft, fair hair clung caressingly around it with just a hint of curls. The small curved mouth was subtly suggestive of the wilfullncss concealed in the merry eyes above. A pretty, impetuous child, innocently incapable of deep feeling, immature and unawakened. But to the two who looked so long and tenderly at those features they reflected nothing but the face of their dear idol—the girl for whom they had planned and sacrificed, for whom all things could be accomplished and who was to be the great joy and comfort of their life. “Pa,” the mother’s lips touched her husband’s rough check, her voice broke with her great desire. “Don’t you think we could-” Abruptly he silenced her lips with his. “Yes, and we’ll go tomorrow.” 4j 14