Polytechnic High School - Polytechnic Student Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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Mary. Not until every picture had been examined and talked to did Billy turn hack to the front page and begin to read. For an hour he read in intense enjoyment: only when the grey dusk crept in at the dirty window did he slip the precious copy under the scanty covers of his bed. For the next few days after school, Billy went to the playground only for the story-telling hour. His taste for games had suddenly disappeared and as soon as Miss Mary rose to go, he hurried away to lie till dark, drinking in lovingly the jungle stories. The fourth day poor little Billy's eyes were opened. Miss Mary was talking to the playground teacher and Billy overheard. She was telling how, after finishing her story one aftemoon, she had left her valuable copy of The Jungle Book on the ground, and, as soon as she had missed it a half hour later, had immediately returned. lt was not where I left it, she concluded sorrowfully, and I ques- tioned all the children carefully just before the gong sounded to empty the grounds. Billy was frightened. In the joy of reading the stories it had never occurred to him that the book belonged to someone. He had only read on and on, fascinated with the animal adventures that he loved, and delighted that the story-telling hour could be so prolonged. The idea that the property was not his had no more presented itself than the fact that a stray kitten had come to him for love and protection. ln a daze he left the playground and climbed up to the dark room. Slowly he took the book from its hiding place and descended again to the street. Then for the first time he fully comprehended the mistake of his actions and broke into a frantic run. Suppose Miss Mary should be gone and he could not put the book safely in her hands? Suppose she should never come back and he could not End her? It seemed as if the playgrounds would never come in sight. At last, his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed, he found Miss Mary just leaving the grounds at the other end. Miss Mary, he gasped breathlessly. As she turned, he thrust the book quickly into her hands. I didn't know it was your'n, he sobbed. I didn't know it was nobody's. I didn't know whose it was. I-I never thought. I just read the stories and loved 'em and talked to the people in the pictures, and dreamt about 'em at night. Oh, l'd gave it to yuh quick as anything if l'd jest knowed it was your'n! Miss Mary looked down gently into the pleading, expressive eyes, at the freckled face, and at the frayed trousers, and because she loved boys and animal stories she understood. Why, Billy, she said quickly, stroking back his tangled hair, isn't this fortunate? l've just been wondering where I could find a boy who loves books well enough to take care of some for me, and here you've shown me plain as day just where that boy is. Billy, you're just the one! The books have animal stories in them, and pictures, and I shouldn't wonder, she concluded cheerfully, if one of them is the Jungle Book. ANNETTE CLICK.

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