Racine High School - Kipikawi Yearbook (Racine, WI)

Page 82 text:

HIPI KQ I The Blank fanart H Remarkable 4 impossible - yes, re- markableln muttered a dark, handsome young fellow, stopping short and rubbing his hand slowly across his forehead. He was looking up at a tall stone building with the inscription above the door,- KENSINGTON PUBLIC LIBRARY. But it's the same-fthe very same, and after taking in every detail again, he mounted the steps hastily, opened a heavy door, and found himself in a hall- way leading to the main rooms of the library. Let's see, it was this room, wasn't it? Yes, there are the shelves just as I saw them, and with a most curious ex- pression of alarm and expectation, he passed through a doorway and walked to a remote corner of the room. As he glanced at the large window in this corner, he shuddered and turned his attention quickly to the shelfunderneath the sill. He started as he beheld a medium-sized, gray book, and with shaky hands he drew it from its place and eagerly read the title, The Blade Heart, by Nlichabellesf' He put it under his arm and walked over to an- other section, and catching his breath as if greatly surprised, drew forth a bright blue book and read: How to Speak with the Dead A Practical Handbook By Sciensf' The color immediately left his face and with difficulty he managed to compose himself and go over to the desk to have the books charged. Your name, please? asked the librarian. 'fAh-Iohn Carleton-that is-Oh, I'd forgotten. I just came to this city last nightgl haven't a card here. l'll sign one now. And a moment later he walked out as if in a dream- That evening after Carleton had eaten a scanty supper at one of the best restaurants in the city, he returned to his room and tried to figure out what it all meant. He remembered his dream of the night before distinctly. lle had gone into a great stone library to look at books. He had thought he was alone in the room until, casually glancing up, he had seen a man standing by the window and beckoning to him. He had gone over, and the man had silently pointed to a gray book on the shelf, at the Same time looking pleadingly at Carleton. Thereupon he glided past Carleton, had taken a bright blue book from the shelf, and, holding it between himself and Carleton, had pointed first to one and then the other with a sad and unhappy expression. Then the spirit vanished, leaving Carleton to awake suddenly. He had dismissed the dream, thinking it foolish, but when he had gone forth into the City that morning, for the first time he had seen a library exactly like the one in his dream, he had easily found the books just where he had seen them. What could it all mean? With a sigh, he opened the gray book and glanced through its pages. Suddenly he started. The picture of a facewthe face which he had seen in his dreaml Underneath the picture was printed, HI. Michabelles, 1854-l914. So the man of his dream was the author of this bfiokl And what had the other book to do with this? He recollected his dream as carefully as possible and remembered especially vividly the expression on the man's face as he pointed from himself to Carleton, as if this book were the means of understanding. If Nlichabelles were dead and wished to say something to him about this book he had written, then the only way for him to speak was through spiritualism. Carleton took the book on this subject and began to study it. After a few hours he decided to do a thing which he felt was ridiculous and awful. He felt ashamed to think he was the victim of such crazy fancies, yet something which he could not resist made him curious. With the room in darkness save for the light of the moon, he took his seat near the window. After remaining quiet and expectant for a few moments, he asked in a weak voice, Are there any spirits

Page 81 text:

HIPI KQ village now spoke of Segwun as dead, and wondered who would be chief when Akkomi departed. One afternoon in early spring, as the Kootenais were Hshing in the stream. a canoe rounded a bend in the river, not a quarter of a mile away, and skimmed over the water with the speed of a swallow's dart. Two men were in it, and they came straight to the landing. One was a red man, the other white. The red man spoke in his native tongue to the crowd which quickly gathered: Strangers, we have come to your village Seeking rest and sleep. Is there a place to which we may go? One of the loiterers replied, Ah, friend, in my Wigwam are many blankets in which you may roll yourselves and sleep. Follow me and you shall have rest. As the three moved away, one whis- pered to another, See, see the long scar. Segwun once fell upon the slippery rocks and it left such a scar upon his face. Quickly the rumor spread and soon reached Akkomi's ears. He bade a brave bring the Strange Indian to his tepee. When Leflore saw the tall, supple Indian she cried, O, Akkomi, 'tis Segwun, truly-see. The long scar upon his face is the same. Hush, said Akkomi, Let him tell his own story. The stranger seated himself before the fire and remained silent until Akkomi said, Stranger, of what tribe and from what place are you come? HChief, Iam a guide. I lead the white man over the dark, lonely trails. Of what tribe I come I do not know. When I was young, I was lost in a dense forest, far away from my people. Kind Indians brought me up until I was able to be- come a guide. For five years now I have been on the trailsf' Akkomi calmly answered, You are indeed my son. Of that there is no doubt. Indeed it is good that you have come, for I cannot live much longer. You will some day be chieff' BLANCHE CHRISTOFFEI., '24, Q Swat Uliale Cparody on The Walrus and the Carpenteruj The night was cool as any night, The breeze was warm as toast, Poor loan of Arc was awfully hot, And Caesar thought he'd roast. The two were walking down the steps Of our beloved school, To see if they might find a way Of keeping rather cool. Their feet got caught in many holes Which were upon the stairs, They stumbled and they nearly fell, A sorry trial, theirs. The selfsame thought was in each mind And soon great Caesar spoke. And, speaking of his selfsame thoughts, The dreadful silence broke: If lots of men with lots of tools, Worked for a lot of years, Do you suppose, great Caesar said, In spite of laughs and jeers, Do you suppose that they could make A high school big and grand? And tear the old one down and let The new one take its stand Of course they could, sighed Ioan of Arc, I know they could, in fact. The many men and many tools are not lust what we lack. I realize that, great Caesar said, And wept and wept and wept. 'tFor many days and many nights, I really haven't slept. The people of the city ought to Wake up to the fact That it's the common vote And only that we lack. HAlasl Alasln sighed loan of Arc, T'is very sad, but true. But now it's nearly twelve o'clock, so I Must say Good-nightl to you. r ?u HELIQN Moolzic, '22,

Page 83 text:

KI I Q KD present? He felt absurdly foolish and yet he was determined to carry the thing through. He heard no sound in the room save the rapid beat of his own heart. After a few moments he repeated the question. This time as if in answer to his question, he heard a slight rustle above his head, saw a paper on the desk move toward him and stop directly in front of him. He picked up a pencil and held his hand over the paper. Then slowly and involuntarily he felt his hand move. At -first he saw only scribbling, then the pencil began to form letters. He let his hand be guided until he felt it stop. Then he read, Whom would you see? He drew in his breath quickly and with a hand that was shaking wrote, Michabelles. Immediately he heard another rustle and felt a breath of air on his cheek. His hand reached involun- tarily for the pencil and again he per- ceived that writing was bein formed on the paper: This is Michaielles. See Iames W. Clabburn, Argyll House, Southend. And what shall I say to my uncle? murmured Carleton surprised. The answer came, Tell him to look carefully at the portrait of his sister whom he so loves-the one on his desk in the blue room. His hand ceased writing. The silence in the room hung heavily on Carleton. It was the deep, solemn silence that clothes the world in the heart of the night and makes people feel the presence of unknown beings. Two days later found Carleton in his Uncle Clabburn's study, eager to clear up this strange matter. After prelimi- naries were over, Carleton shifted his feet, cleared his throat, and with an attempt at composure settled back in his chair. Er-Uncle, did you ever happen to know a man by the name of Micha- belles?,' His uncle's eyebrows contracted. Did I? The scoundrel-he cost me 510,000-the dirty thiefl Don't men- tion this subject again. The last was said in a commanding tone. But you must tell me. I've a message for you after you tell me all you know. What's this! How-who-how do you know anything of this? Have some of his friends been trying to make you think I'm the crook? I'd like to wring their necks. He clinched his fists to- gether and brought his foot down heavily. Calm yourself, uncle, and tell me all about it. You wonit be sorry.U Although he grumbled something about its being none of Carleton's busi- ness, nevertheless he proceeded to give a short account of his relations with Michabelles. Well, he and I were good friends once. Then Igwell, Ifwasn't true to him on one occasionfidiot that I was- and he went away broken hearted and too stubborn to accept my apologies. He tried to make a living by writing, and like most of those poor fools, he became poverty stricken. A few months after the quarrel, 310,000 worth of bonds dis- appeared from my safe. The same night it disappeared, I saw Michabelles sneak- ing around town. Nloreover, later as I got into hard straits, he began to have money mysteriously coming in. I never had any proof against Nlichabelles, but I could swear that he took that moneyl He refused to tell me where he got his. The bonds were never heard of. Con- found himl He let his head fall into his hands and sat silently shaking it, casting dark glances at his nephew now and then. Carleton watched his uncle eagerly and noted the queer expression on his face. Then he said slowly and with great calmness, I talked with Nlichabelles personally night before last, Uncle. Nonsense, boy, he died last year, snapped the uncle. Paying no attention to the outburst, Carleton continued in a hoarse whisper, He said that you should look closely at the picture ofyour sister which is on your desk in the blue room. Clabburn started and rose uneasily. Are you trying to make me angry?