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Page 71 text:
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and they don't cost much, what's the differenceill put in Uncle lim good naturedly. Uncle Jim had long ago shown Betty some miniatures that had come down to him. and she had been so delighted with the quaint costumes and lovely faces that now it was lfncle -limis keenest pleasure to visit a pawn shop to look for a picture. Uncle .lim shut the door, and by the time Betty had finished mopping up the floor he handed her the miniature. 6'Ohl isn't it a perfect beautyl I was showing the girls up at High, the other day, when we were discussing our grad- uation dresses, one of my pictures and they will be so anxious to see this onef' One day an unconscious Uncle Jim with a badly injured and crushed leg was brought home, and the next day a poor smashed yellow flivver came to the farm. A heavy truck had been the cause of all this misfortune. As Uncle -lim was sitting in his bed propped up with pillows, a few days later, he turned to Betty who was standing at his side and said, Poor Betty, this spoils your plans for college and you will have to be content with having a home with usf' Chl Uncle Jim. I- I allus was opposed to this eddication business anyhow and now Betty yould better go. You're makin' him all grumpy, interrupted Aunt Sadie who was seated in a low rocker, mending. Well, l just wanted to say that+Oh, some one is at the door! Betty inter- rupted herself to admit the visitor. It proved to be a stranger, a disting- uished-looking man. He inquired for a meal, explaining that his car had been stalled and could not be repaired until a mechanic could be sent from the town. Aunt Sadie, coming to the doorway, looked him up and down, straightened her apron a little and replied, 6'lYell l'm not used ter servin' out meals ter anyone, but I guess you can come in heref, L The stranger stayed for the evening meal and afterwards, as he was convers- ing with Betty and her uncle, Betty in a sudden impulse showed him ber Cherished miniatures. He looked at them at first with a nonchalant expression, not making any comments. Suddenly, when he looked at one of them, he started. l'The cripple Howardls lost master-piecel And so it happened that the foolish whim of Betty and Uncle Jim gave them a fortune, for the miniature was indeed the lost masterpiece, and thru its huge proceeds a costly but successful operation was performed on Uncle Jim's leg, and Betty was able to get her much desired education. RUBY ,loRoENsEN, '22. The Enom The woods over yonder is one of the most picturesque places that you would ever care to see. Indeed, you might travel miles before you came to one as beautiful. It seems as if some fairy or immortal spirit dwells there and lives on the beauty of it. In spring the trees, so bare all winter, take on new beauty, and the tiny buds clustered here and there on the long slim branches look like some delicate embroid- ery. Nlany of the tiny shrubs are rich in that green which nature alone has the power of giving to the things she paints. The tiny flowers of April and htlay display their daintiest apparel, the violets don their dresses of purple and yellow, the tiny hepaticas put on their dresses of pink, white, and pale blue as though they were going to be the rainbow bridesmaids for some fairy wedding. What is sweeter than the gurgling of the little brook that winds its way thru the center of the woods? Unless, indeed, it be the songs of the first returning birds. The thornapples in blossom fill the air with fragrance which the clear gentle breeze wafts to you.
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Page 70 text:
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Scylla and Charybdisl, he was pronounced incorrigible. From then on, his suffering was intense. Several times he visited the land of the dead and had deep discussions with its king, but always he was recalled by changes in teachers and circumstances. Thrice, while in the storm of many lessons, he nearly expired and always perspired, but fortune was not good to him, and he lived on. Then a great plague swept the region and our senior was sore stricken. To the gods this disease was known as spring fever, to the people, as the hook- worm. The dread disease passed but re- cuperation was slow. Finally, with a groan he realized that the time had come to return to his native elements. So his sad countenance was seen once more at the Hades of R. H. S. As he, wailing, besought an excuse, he was recognized by certain well-known looks upon his face. Receiving the temporary,,' he with- drew from this room of shadows, but, upon her who had given the excuse so grudg- ingly, fell the gloom of darksome death when she beheld this senior twenty days absent. Then came the trial, the trial of brains and genius at the semesterls end. Five days of tortuous tests! O ye godsl The bitterness of itl lmmediately he prayed to every god of the council of Olympus and to many others for assistance. His need of help was great, therefore many gods were appealed to. One would not do. The tests passed, but with what dire results! Be it known that this roving senior had wasted away, at this crisis, almost beyond recognition. Fearing and still praying he received his cards. Slowly he looked at them one after another. Slowly he absorbed their contents. Then his mighty spirit broke and he wept in agony. His splendid effort had been wasted. The gods held council and it was forced into his lifeless eranium that he was a failure. The decision was that he spend one more year at R. H. S. Sadly A.. he began the period of rest and peace which would last but ten short weeks, with only the loyalty of the junior class to spur him on. Even as Penelope had waited for the long-wandering Odysseus, this class had waited with fond ex- pectancy to call this wondering senior its own, looking forward to days and nights of frolicking with this fun-loving, seldom- worried, delinquent senior. W11.M1zR Davis, TZZ. just a Miniature Betty turned abruptly from the low kitchen window, upsetting a crock of milk in her excitement. ':0hl he is coming, I see a great big cloud of dust with a little yellow speck in the middle down by the clump of poplarsf' 'fWell, now don't be upsettin' every- thing in my kitchen. ltis about time he was comin' anyhow! exclaimed Aunt Sadie in her sour fashion as she turned from the old black cook stove. Betty Dugan had lived with her ill- tempered Aunt Sadie and indulgent Uncle Jim ever since her parents were killed when she was but five years old. As Tfncle Jim trudged into the kitchen Aunt Sadie greeted him, c'Did you get that bread and flour? '4Yes, I got it,', answered Tfncle Jim, and as his glance fell upon Betty his face lighted up and he added, Hand something for my pet too.'7 As he stood fumbling in his pocket Aunt Sadie handed a mop to Betty and began, 'fBetty,clean up that mess, and Jim, don't stand there with the door open all dayf You do more chasini around in that good fer nothin' flivver than any- thing else, and l never could see why you had it painted that yaller color, and besides l canlt see what you two want with those fool pitchers anyhowln 'WY'-ll as long as Betty and l likes ,em 77
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Page 72 text:
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An old forlorn cottage nestled among the trees is completely covered with ivy vines, creeping in and out the latticed windows and across the old door. The whole place looks like a bower made for the gods, and one would commit a sacri- lege if he tore the vines rudely away from their places so that he could enter. At sunset there is a hush as twilight comes on. The robin and thrush sing to their mates onthe nests. The trees are silhouetted against the pale sky. Soon everything is left in darkness and sinks to sleep. jot: R1ClI1'I'I1i, '23. 1115112 'Eliite giibinx Alan Hempstead leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up on the desk, and lit. a fresh cigar. glove, Ifm glad thatls overln he said. Just then, the butler brought in a card which read, James P. Stewart. Alan sprang to his feet and cried, 'fShow him ing he's just in time.'l In a few minutes, james P. Stewart, private lawyer of the Hempstead family, came in. Alan slapped him briskly on the shoulder, saying, Hello, old manl I've written all these letters explaining my absence, and I leave to- morrow. Just think, leave tomorrow to go deep into the great Arabian desertf, James Stewart's face grew grave as he replied, Alan, I've tried to make you give up this unthinkable thing. Can't, you see you're just throwing your life away? Your father did, and what did he gain? Nothing! Oh, can't you see the folly of it all? It was quite a surprise to Alan to see the usually calm Mr. Stewart give way to emotion of this kind. Hhlamie, I want to do itl Something tells me that I shall succeed! he answered passionately. Then he added in a calmer tone, 'GI sail tomorrow. l've made all the necessary preparations. You need not worry. A There was nothing for lfr. Stewart to dog therefore, asking Alan to dine with him at the Royal Hotel that evening, he took his leave. Alan Hempstead was the son of the dis- tinguished Alan Hempstead, Sr. All the world knew that Alan, Sr. had taken a trip five years before, and had never come back. Unly the secret service and the king knew that he had gone far into the Arabian desert to find an important document which had been stolen. Only the king and the secret service knew that the dead body of Alan Hempstead had been found on the steps of the Itlnglish consulate in Arabia. The loss of the document had been successfully kept a secret until now, but the time was coming when that loss would become public. Alan, as the son of Hempstead, had been told the story. He made up his mind that he would hnish his fat,her's work. That night, Alan met lXfIr. Stewart at the Royal and dined with him. Both tried to appear cheerful but hlr. Stewart made a miserable failure of it. Pk 34 Tl: df FF The hot, merciless sun shone down upon a little party of men, struggling along in the sand. One, apparently a white man from his accent, but so browned by the sun that his color could not be proved, said, 'tlf we can only reach it before nightfallll' Another replied in the language of the Arabs, Yes, master, but it's far off, and the sun is hotf' The white man, not to be daunted, kept on. lt is strange how the magic silence of the desert affects men. The man who strode along in the broiling hot sun could not be Alan, carefree Alan Hempstead! For eight long months, he had kept up his diligent search for the lost document, and thus had earned the name the Fear-V lessf' So it was he who wished to reach the village before nightfall, in order to learn from a wandering Arab, who had
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