Plymouth High School - Pilgrim Yearbook (Plymouth, MA)

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10 THE PILGRIM A black cioud hissed onward, Then ceasing, a soft thud an- nounced The Grasshoppers come to destroy. A cloud of a billion wings covered the fields, Gardens and crops now had gone. A sole heart-breaking memory re- mained. Everywhere this squirming, green- ish mass Raged with their crunching in- cissors. Nature looked on with malicious joy Pressing on with more evil- The sand storm loomed in the dis- tance. 'Twas like breasting the waves of a dirty sea. A black blizzard in its fury, With grit and dust for snow. Above all God looked kindly down, And here and there green tints appeared Under His guiding hand. Time passes-with its cares Imprinted on each westerner's life. Life, Time's galley slave, stands forever Shackled to its unrelenting master. RUTH PERRIER '30 BENEDICTION Fast now with moving hours will come The day when we must part, Each memory's jewel from these four years Is fastened to our heart. Classmates-the shadows upon Life's dial Lengthen and move along, They do but teach the clearness Of right, and, too, of wrong. The lessons of high school days are passed, The books and child-thoughts, too. We reasoned as children and talked like them- That was before we grew. Now with a firmer thought and tread We pause at the open door, And we pray, May we meet the trials of life Like those that have gone be- fore. K. CAMERON '30 Q 0 Maoiuioioizminiuiuinir 31,1014 CROWELUS Ladies' and Men's Furnishings 17-21 Main Street PLYMOUTH - MASS. EDDIE RICHARD Shoe Repairing Shoes Rebuilt- Not Cobbled By Up-to-date Factory Methods 36 Market St. Tel. 906 Plymouth N. Saracca Fruit Store Fruits Confectionery Tonics Cigars Cigarettes Tobacco Fresh Roasted Peanuts a Specialty Tel. 8823-W 36 SANDWICH ST. fOpp. The Old Howland Housej Old Colony Laundry The Laundry Does It best W. H. O'BRIEN 18 Howland St. Tel. 272-W 'When There-'s Better Work Done, We'll Do It JOHN H. GOVI TAILOR Main St., - - Plymouth 1.-. . -. LEONORE'S BEAUTY PARLOR and All Branches of Beauty Culture Evelyn A. Longhi, Prop. Tel. 1116 Woolworth Bldg. 46 Main St. Plymouth, Mass. Eugene Permanent Wave Shop O 'Jigsaw-as cn 1 1 gogoiii 21010101

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S' ' A THE PILGRIM 9 Of cool and sparkling water A house grew from a shapeless Dripping on the mossy stone. A mass. Parched and blackened lips Men burrowed in like grubby Utter crys of joy. moles, Tired eyes strain forward- Into empty space- 'Tis gone-and naught remains. Illusion like a temptress Waves her golden wand and van- ishes-- And on thro' blistering afternoon, Lurches the endless straggling line, Stolidly onward into the sun. Along muddy creek banks Imprinted deep with buffalo wallows, Stamped by shaggy beasts-trudg- ing on. Then a shout rings out- Camp! a magic word That slips from lip to lip. Fevered voices pierce the gloomy curtain Of choking dust and prairie heat, Like embers of a dying fire, Brightened by the bellow's breath. Wagons, gath'ring like frightened children, Clasp hands of friendship, round about The single flame of hope within their midst. Above the camp the stars peep out, Tender, yellow flowers Bud softly in the sky's own prairie garden. The horses' neighing drifts upon the ev'ning breeze, A coyote howls in dismal answer- then Silence-save for distant sound of shiv'ring grass. Silence-silence, grass and stars, The camp sleeps while the night slips on. Day after day of ceaseless journey while Blood-streaked eyes search fran- tically. This far shalt thou go-no farther, The God of settlers seemed to say. Snows, droughts, blizzards, storms, Rains, hot winds, and little pigmy people All held in the hollow of His hand. Sand was scooped from lowly slopes, Completing small sod houses. Home! revival of hopes and courage. The autumn in all its loneliness Passed into winter-winter to Spring. When the land was a desolate waste, 'Three curling spirals of smoke, Drifted lazily into the gray of the sky, Incense ascending to the God of Homes. Spring came over the prairie, not Softly and shyly, but in magic strides. Nature, the alchemist, ground in her mortar Faint odors of loam, grasses, and wild flowers, Tossing these o'er the prairie 'on wings of the wind. And then in the cloudless blue, A haze grew and spread, And the tell-tale odor of smoke Was borne on the gentle breeze. Upon God's green earth, Great strips of upturned loam ap- peared, Like creations from an artist's brush, And then it rolled in from the North West, The black of smoke, then the low Running scarlet of the fire! All afternoon the river lay between The hideous advancing Thing And the defenseless bank of set- tlers. Ah! The cruel lips of flame Ceased reaching-reaching for their prey. The land across the creek lay Desolate, solitary, a blackened waste, Trees charred and turned to ashes. The fire, the terror of the prairie, Had come and gone, leaving its scar. A year passed-a year of Hardships, toil, and agony. Then Spring sprang up anew, Throbbing, vibrating with life. From the west a warning came,

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