Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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The Golden-Rod 9 possibility that this mighty man can set him free comes to his mind as often an idea will, when one is driven to utter despair and lie will grasp it and cling to it until, as impossible as it may seem, it will often materialize. So with determination Von Hohenlohe grasps this one and with pen and ink he writes and rewrites a letter which he intends to send that evening by Achmct to the Emperor wherever he may be stopping within the city. It reads thus: To your Imperial Highness: I, your humble servant, am imprisoned here at this city for the excavation of a mummy taken in behalf of the University of Heidel- berg. and for an attempted escape after im- prisonment. Could your majesty consider such a thing as a compromise with the offi- cials? Your loyal subject, Max Von Hohenlohe. He passes the note that night to Achmet through the bars and gives him instructions as to where he shall most likely find the Emperor and how he shall gain permission to have the note presented to him. CHAPTER V 44No. 54, at the end of the corridor and your name, sir?” questions the guard at the gate of the prison. “Oh well, I guess for the occasion Hohenlohe will do,” replies a tall,dignified looking per- son, handing his card to the guard. Re- moving his cork hat he enters and makes his way to the end of the long row of prison cells. “Von Hohenlohe? Am I right?” he asks of the prisoner. “Oh, yes, Your—Your Majesty,”—struck with awe upon finding himself in the pres- ence of the Emperor. “I shall ask of you in the first place, Von Hohenlohe, that you reply to my questions briefly as my time here is limited and further- more I do not wish to be recognized by the people if I can avoid it. “In a report that I received from the University of Heidelberg a few months ago I recall a statement concerning your journey here and its purpose. If you have committed no other crime than to excavate a mummy I think that I shall be able to persuade the officials here to free you. I leave it to your cleverness, though, to get the mummy to its destination as I am aware of its priceless value to that University. Now may I ask if it was a Scarabaeus mummy that you un- covered. “Yes, Your Majesty, and in perfect con- dition. It is now hidden at Alexandria.” “Have patience and I think that I can se- cure your release.” With a motion that it was time to depart, he closed his remarks by say- ing that he wished Von Hohenlohe would send word to Potsdam to him informing him of his luck, and he strode down to the prison gate where a carriage was waiting. On the following day when the prison gates were thrown open, a man holding in his hand a scroll stamped with the imperial black eagle as sign of the approval of the Emperor stepped out into the street, where he was met by another man in native garb and together they walked to the banks of the Nile, where they boarded a dahabeah bound for Alexandria. Through the crowd at the Alexandria dock pushed two men, one an Egyptian, the other a European, followed by a donkey cart bear- ing a large box marked for the University of Heidelberg, Germany. It was hoisted a- board a large German liner. The whistle shrieked the signal that all was ready for departure. The German clasped the hands of the Egyptian and with a smiling farewell, hurried up the gang plank. A moment after- wards it was lowered and the great ship slow- ly plowed through the white foam, growing smaller and disappearing in the blue expanse of sea. Frederick F. Johnson.

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8 1 h e (Golden-Rod gold studded with jewels, rare and priceless. There is not another piece of goldwork like it in all Egypt. He has it now. This is the woman whom he had saved from the Arabian thieves at the Pyramid but because of her veils he had no way of identifying her before. But, as it will be remembered, he had taken special notice of that rare piece of jewelry, which had been the object of the attack of the thieves. In spite of his ignorance of her identity she had recognized him and had en- deavored to repay his deed by setting him free. Why she did not plead with her father for his release and perform the deed honor- ably is a question which will remain unsolved. With shouts and threatening gestures the Bedoins encircle horse and rider. The chief catches sight of the limp body of his daughter, the stain and the protruding, dagger. Covering his face with his hands he offers a silent prayer to Allah, mingled with the forgiveness of his daughter and his own sadness. Von Hohcnlohe is roughly torn fron his saddle and with glances of hatred the Bedoins threateningly swing their sabres above their heads. He is securely bound and placed upon his horse and without further delay brought to Cairo and given with little ceremony into the hands of the jailers there, where he is impris- oned, pending his trial, charged with the theft of a mummy and attempted escape after imprisonment. CHAPTER III. In the twilight gloaming the figure of a man appeared on a deserted street with a night shroud drawn about his head and slinking from one protective shadow to an- other until he had reached a spot beneath a barred prison window. Here, drawing the cover from his head, he whistled softly. Presently a head appeared at the window. “Is that you Achmet?” questions the man behind the bars in a soft voice. “Yes, Sahib, it is I,” is the equally soft response. “Did you get the mummy to Alexandria safely?” “Ah, yes, safely indeed it is hidden,” proceeds Achmet glancing cautiously about him to see that no one hears, “in the cellar of my brother Mohammed Hassan’s house. He is an honest merchant of that city and you may feel sure that he will care for it as well as if it were his own.”-“Hist, the guard is approaching. Go, Achmet, or I fear that I shall have a companion in this dank cell.” The day dawned clear. The invigorating morning air gently wafted into the cell of the prisoner, and he sleepily arose from his cot and strode to the window to breath in more of it and to gaze out into the narrow streets. What a sudden change had come over the city since yesterday. The balconies of the crowded houses were hung with festal tapestries and throngs of people were surging into the streets. To the beat of a drum a band of soldiers passed by followed by more, gor- geously arrayed in red and gold; these formed themselves in two long columns on either side of the street. What did all this mean? Per- haps the Khedive was coming, but that was a usual event and no such display was made of it. As he stood there thinking, suddenly the cry of “Hail, the Emperor! He approach- es!” filled the air, and people suddenly opened the casements ol the balconies and stept out, bearing garlands of flowers which they threw down into the street through which he was to pass; and the people on the street pushed and craned their necks impatiently that they might catch a glimpse of this notable person- age. Presently his coach comes into view. There he sits, surrounded by the leading men of Egypt. His face Vcn Hohenlohe recognizse as one he has often seen in pictures. It is not an Egyptian potentate but the Emperor of his own native country on a visit to the Orient. As he gazes upon his clear open face he can not help but regard him as a close friend, although the gap of relationship between them is of in- credible width and of unfathomable depth. The

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10 The Golden Rod THE STORY OF THE SUGAR MAPLE. The great King had finished making the world, and the birds, the flowers, and the trees were choosing their homes. All the birds chose the air, all the flowers the fields, but each tree chose the home where it thought it would be the most happy. The willow went to the mountain brook to shade its banks. The silver birch together with its friend, the basswood, went to the lake side. The pine, the spruce, and the hemlock chose the sides of the lake mountain, for they were vain trees and wished to be admired by all. There was one tree, however, which had not chosen a home. It was the maple. Far away from the lake, there lived an- other mountain. When he saw his friend, the lake mountain, so beautiful, he wished to beautify himself, too. So he called to all the trees, “Come and make your home with me.” The pine, the spruce, and the hemlock murmured. The willow drooped a little nearer the brook, and the birch and the bass- wood nodded their heads together. Each said, “I am too happy where I am.” But the little maple thought, “If the great moun- tain would only let me come,” and finally said, “Dear mountain, will you let me make my home with you? I am neither so beauti- ful nor so useful as the other trees, but will do my best to make you happy.” “Let you?” cried the mountain, “I shall be contented and happy if a dear little tree like you will come to me.” After many months the great King came to visit His children. He praised each for its work, and when He came to the maple, He said, “You of all my children have served Me best, for you have sought to give happiness to others. I will make you the most useful and beautiful of all trees.” So He gave the maple a sap for which men seek, and when fall comes and He turns the leaves yellow, red, and brown, it is the most beautiful of all trees. Priscilla White, T7 WHICH ? “Jack” Sheridan, captain of the Need town College baseball team, had finished his last game of “ball” for the season, and probably for life. They had beaten their great rivals, Hammond College. His teammates were in the dressing-room, singing, whistling, danc- ing jigs and everything else to express their joy, while “Jack,” the captain, who should be the happiest, was gloomier than the defeated team. Why was he gloomy? It was a reason that only “Jack” and his father knew. This was his senior year and it would not be very long before he would have to go out into the world to earn his living. He dreaded the thought, but he must go and make his name. He thought back and remembered when he was a “Soph”, and had made the varsity team. He remembered the great quartets, trios, duos and solos they used to have after a game that they had won; the towel fights and the “duckings” they had, fully dressed, under the shower for the sake of fun and sport. The hazing of the “Freshies,”— how well he remembered all this. He had written to his father asking him if he could stay for a post graduate course. But his father answered in his letter and how well he remembered those words: “Do you want to be a milksop all your life? If not. go out into the world and make your name.” He finished dressing and left the locker room. In a few days he received his “Sheep- skin” and started out to make his living and NAME.