Polytechnic High School - Caerulea Yearbook (Long Beach, CA)

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Larry's bench companion On the other side broke the silence, if the noise and tumble of street cars and draws and the cry of newsies could be called silence. She adjusted her stringy jabot and turned insolently toward the soldier. When a guy talks about Christmas hein' a this: day and sits here, she nodded in the direction of the row of benches, there'u somethin' wrong in his belfry, lure Is livinvt Haven't you got a home eilher'P' nlked Larry. ttHome! Home did yuh lay? Say, honey, I ain't seed a home for so long .I don't know what it looks like. No apron string: for me! Say, how can you have a home and a good time, huh? Nothin' doin' on that gag. Better run home to your mummy, kid, before someone hurt: yuh. Nice day for Christmas! Huh! And she, too, lapsed into silence. The mrroundings of the little part: seemed suddenly distasteful to Larry. He rare, and walked briskly away from the bench where he had sat. Turn- ing his hack on the park he wandered disconsoIately about the streets. No- body had any home, it seemed. His experience in the park, aithough of a trivial nature, made him feel 3!! the more lonesome; and he gradually began to feel embittered agaimt everyone in general. An automobile full of soldier: and wholesome, red-cheeked girl! passed by. How happy they looked, thought OtNeil, and yet-. Well, what did he care anyway. Hetd be over in France in a few weeks, and most likely get wounded or maybe killed. Then this mood deepened. What did he owe to his country anyway? He had been wiliing to give hil life for his country, to give his life for even Iuch people an rthbse in the Iquarer-ancl he had received not one word of thanks, not even I kindly smile. Why should he give his life for these? , This feeling passed away quickly, and was followed by n Ienle of shame that main self-centered .and un-American thoughts had been harbored for even an imtant. - OtNeil looked into this shnw-windnw and that, until dinner time ap- proached. The year hefore-but he would not let himlelf think of it. Hit father had sat at the held of the table, his mother at the foot, and he at her Tight. Just a cusy, home-iike Christmas dinner-turkey and cranberry lance, mi a scarlet poimettia at the center-piece. At tent he would try to make it Ieem like Christnus, and I0 he thrust hunk hi: lhaulderl, tipped his nervice hut at the proper angle, and walked briskly into a restaurant which boldly hemlded to In emply-Itomnched yuhlic by mean: of a large, red-lettered placard, the fact that the bent turkey dinner in the city of Los Angela! wan to be had there for the price of one dolhr. - The bird was a very good one, the dressing excellent, and the cranberry jelly just right, but somehow Private OtNeil didntt enjoy it, and left his dinner practically untauted. The quick eye of the manager noted this, and he hustled forward as Larry wan leaving, to ask if there was any fault in the service or in the dinner that he could remedy. Although I very observing and kind-heuted man, he did not notice that beneath the Plenum, The dinner WM tine, lit. I FOIH'

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meme wee. name 1 imam Bunmuei By Charles M. Purdy Private Larry faced Christmas morn- the celebration of that most wonderful event of over nineteen hundred years before. He wanted it to Ieem like Christmas, and yet. to him, it wasnit. He hreakfaated at 3 easy cafeteria on Hill ltteet, sitting near the front where he could look over across the ltteet at the Iunlit greenery of the perk. The rows of green, sober benches were tilled with crowds of more 10122: people: tired, sullen looking men, Ind faded, from, homeless women. Then the hay realized with a pang, . that others, perhaps, Were lonely too. I He sat looking a: if upon a play of the shabby tide of life, to strongly contralted with the groups of well-dreued, merry-faced people who passed along the sidewalk; on the edge of the equate; the very color scheme of the park itwlf-the green of the grass and the trees and shmbhery, and the riotous profulion 0! may- colored Howerh-it nil irritated him. HlviI-Ig Enished hi: meal, Larry paid his check and left the eltnhliehn meat, but not until the hright-eyed little girl at the cashier's desk had hidden him - cheery Merry Christmal. That, at least, helped out some. Ho cfoued the street mil enterei the square. Ragged little children were playing around the fountain with shrill cries Ind taunts. He wondered what kind of home: than rngamuflim had. Finding I vncant lent on one of the long row: of benches, Lmy wedged himself In between I gnunt-Iooking youth of nine- teen and I Hashily-dreued womn. Thinking, with a my smile. of that time-old axiom, Bird: of I feather Hock together, Larry tried to start a convenation with his neighhor, the 'youth of nineteen aummen. tWit: day, the Ioidier lad remarked with forced eheerfuimu. Uh-huh, ungrncioully returned the buy. It me u a nice day for Chriltmu, he awed, not dlunted by the other'l incl: of interut. Say, what's eltin ytIhWl returned the gaunt youth. Nice day for Chrhtmn-huh. Ye-h, nice duy for Chmtmu, In Inc without - dime te Imlh name. No ham, no nothizf. My 01' men got lure 'callle I' got canned put; school an' told me to go t' thunder. Nice CiIMIIIIl-Ililh! ' And the mhuppy youth dropped into an unhappy silence. I Thu

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just wasn't hungry, with which Larry replied, there lurked n tinge of loneli- ness. O'Neil was not one to tell all the world his troubles. He whiled away the afternoon in a rather ordinary manner: a picture show and a sack of candy. The candy he gave to a forlorn little street urchin who had just emerged from a fight, defeated and penuiless. Then, with nothing better to do, he handed rm interurhnn cur and rode tq a suburb of Los Angelen where pretty bungalows and tall pepper trees and holly wreath: in the windows made the void in larry'l heart all the more un- bearable. As he wandered airnleuly up one street and down another, absorbing the spirit of. Christmas which these pleasnnt homes learned to radiate, he came upon a little white-walled, green-I'oofed cottage, with a service Hag hearing - single golden star, hanging in the front window. Some force, an unknown fame to Larry, but really what i: called Destiny, caused him to stop and linger in the shadow of a fronded palm. From within came the sound of a mellow-toned piano and a low, sweet voice singing, Keep the home fire; burning, While your hearts are yeaming-u- Though your lack are far away they dream of home. Thereh a silver lining Through the dark clouds shining; Turn the dark cloud: inside out . Till the boy: come home. While Larry stood there, listening to that song, I ten slipped from hi- eye and coursed unnoticed down hi: cheek. Perhaps it was the well of the music, or perhaps it was that God-lent tear, for the steel mesh of lonelineu parted. - The door of the little white cottage with the green roof opened, and a light fmm within the room that streamed forth upon the silent listener nllo disclosed a little, hrnwn-luired woman, who noticed the figure beside the palm with I alight start. Who in it? she allied. Larry tried to answer, but Iomehow the words wouhidt come and he only choked instead. t It we: then that the discerning eyes of the hrown-haired-woman noticed the uniform that urry wore, and noticed, as well, the little rivulet of natty water that the boy ahame-facedly brulhed away. That tune kind of made you feel hometick, didn't it 2' she murmured lympnthetically. ' .. . Yet, it lure did, OtNeil managed to articulate. Have you been in the pervioe long '1 Several months. 1 am going to F rance inn few weeks, he replied. . . Larry atared put the quiet-mamered woman at the patriotic little it; With the single golden star. Fin