Racine High School - Kipikawi Yearbook (Racine, WI)

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ll' ll 'fm WH. tttti ii E 2ii 3i E t E i2: Q iHllIllll ff'f 3il lil lllllllllll 1 u ip, c t iq F' ll 1- 0, lnl 1l -'ll l l-'l'l 'll II l ll vrnl'1:l ',, lllllllllllll Of course it's wisest to avoid selecting any P's. You're free to choose the ones you want and when the choice is made, You can just charge up to pleasure each deficiency in grade. g Catherine Vance, '22, The Qlhallenge uf the bra Willozv-the-lfifp rocked gently on the billowy waves of the sea. She was just an old derelict that had drifted at the mercy of the sea until someone had boarded her and dropped her anchor. Then tales of phantom ships and ghostly sails were revived and the old salts told stories of an ancient whaler that had once sailed in the Hudson Bay region. There came a terrible storm tprobably because of the ghostly wickedness of her crewj and all the sailors lost their lives while trying to escape in life boats, but the ship did not sink. With her sails torn off, she had drifted on the sea for these many years and had been branded with the word haunted. From the little villages on the coast of Novia Scotia, she could be plainly seen, rocking with the tide. How bare and cold and naked she looked against the blue of the ocean and the grey of the skyl In this little village there lived a boy of twelve, called Lars. On the high rocks overlooking the sea, he often lay and dreamed. When the sun sparkled on the waves and made them glisten like fresh pearls, he could often see a happy water child, smiling and beckoning him to play. But when he watched the sea, dark and sullen, burst into angry foam, he saw a monster creature, raging and mocking, daring him to come out. Well he knew that when he was out there, the demon would bury him in its bottomless depths, then laugh triumphantly and go on for another age. He hated the sea at these times, and once, when it had goaded him to fury, he had sprung up, clenched his hands, and cried, Some day, you monster, l'll show youl No one in the village had ever been Url the Willozv, possibly because no one was interested, but more probably because ships that have weathered the sea for years without a crew, are peculiarly un- pleasant. However, Lars, lying on the rocks and watching the old ship, won- dered about it. He had often picked its crew and sat at the pilot's wheel. He could have easily reached it, because it lay less than a quarter of a mile from the rocky shore. Gften he had said to him- self, Cowardl Why don't you go out there? But he well knew why he did not gog the sea hated him as he hated it. Already it had claimed his uncles, and his only brother lay somewhere in its clammy depths, while his father sat quietly at home, aged and saddened, so Lars feared the sea. That was the reason he did not accept its challenge. One day as Lars dreamed on the rocks, he made the Great Discovery. At first he thought it was only part of his sea- dreamg so he gazed and doubted what he saw. Nevertheless, when he sat with his sad-eyed father before the cheerful blaze in the cottage, he asked, Father, does nobody ever go aboard the Will0zof7 No, my son, the Willow is only a skeleton. No one wants to go aboard her. There was silence for a while, then anxiously, You were not planning to go out to the Willow, my son? No father, I only wondered. It was always this, the merest men- tion of the sea brought that look of pain and fear to the poor man's eyes, yet he could not bear to be far from the rest- less monster. So Lars was usually silent about such matters. But he had seen, and he was more watchful thereafter when he looked at the Willow rocking gently on the waves. He wondered, too, why she did not break the anchor chain that held her a prisoner, but when he questioned any of the old sailors up at the coast station, they only said that the Willoic' had grown tired of wandering. One cold, clear night, Lars stood in the doorway of the cottage and watched the sky. The pale moon shone clear and ghostly in the sky, and a pale crimson wreath seemed to encircle it. Lars knew the signg he could see old Captain Yvalt

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'F nllll'.l'flIllnli.....m.--wx! rri f yggy ,.ea...za gm ll V-,,, rl il, lI 'll ll ll llllli ll ll ll 1'l'll lr t lll ll her for his new-found treasure, had wept. You love your work more than you love me. A globe from the sea-shore de- lights you more than l. You are wicked, cruel. Uncomprehending, still clutching his pearl, he gazed at her. You leave me, you moon over an insensible bit, you do not love me. Her anger was at white heat now. You think not of me, but only of what you can do for the world with your useless discoveries. Fool! Now you must chobse between me and your profes- sion. The words rushed out in blind fury, long since she had lost all track of what she had been saying. Still not taking in the situation, he fondled his new-found treasure. B-But I thought you said you l-loved mel he stammered. For an- swer, she gave him a burning glance, then swiftly turned and fled. Only the sea answered his call. She was gone. :lf bk Fl' Pk ak Fl' Pk Chobert, the scientist, recalled him- self with a start. The room was bit- terly cold. Stitfly he arose to get the tat- tered overcoat on the broken chair. Strange, it was not there. Ah, he re- membered now, it was worth but three francs, it was so frayed. Life was worth but little up here in the cold, no heat of any kind, confronted with the failure to which he had dedicated his happiness. Why should he not try the easier way -4 the rope on the rafters? There was no food, no heat, no money: he would perish soon. Why should he not end it now? He clutched at his pearl, still the same beautiful fragment he had found years before. Perhaps, it was worth one more chance, one more experiment. He would try. Slowly, with fingers numbed by the cold, he prepared the acid. With awk- ward movements he placed in position his instruments and his pearl. All was ready. With trembling hand he raised the phial of acid, raising his eyes to the window through which gray dawn was casting murky shadows, he prayed aloud for help from the Creator, then, slowly, he poured his solution over the pearl. :ac wk if :uc ff Pk ik if wk The fragments of his beautiful idol lay crushed upon the table. A purple haze hung over the room. A crystal of ethereal nothings seemed to arise, ex- panding. Slowly, the purple shades CIFCVV Clf7SCl , anil the head iff a Vvflfnan was revealed, beautiful in the glorious expression of her face, floating, elusive, tantalizing. Chobert extended his hands to clasp the dancing apparition. Marguerite, he murmured. As if a spell had been broken, the vision van- ished. Yet, once more the haze gathered to form a woman's head, this time that of a nun. Marguerite, you would not? Hoarse now with despair was his voice. Glorious dawn flooded the room. The first vision had displaced the second. Away in the distance, on the Boulevard Saint Michel, the bells chimed six. The night had gone. Slowly the lovely lips opened - they were speaking - CTO bf covztinued next yearj -Bmha 021, '22, Buss lit Rap? If you begin to study hard before it is too late, You end up on the honor roll, or else become sedate. But you never know the joy there is in 'passing by a hair,' Ur counting up your hours to see how much you have to spare, Or going out on evenings when youive work at home to do, Or trying when you're called on to get up and bluff it through. lt's great to have a lot of E's when all the grades are in, To feel that, if it's brains that count, you have a chance to win. But you're missing many pleasures and experiences too That you'll never have a chance at when your four years here are through. So you want to weigh up carefully your llFlS'Y KlG,SI' lfE'S,7l

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ll 'J n'm'm' ' i u 'Wlllllw lm T ll ll I ll ll lllllffflll llllillll at the station, nodding his bald head and saying, lt's going to blow tonight and blow hard. Then he looked down at the Willow, invisible except for the tiny light which Lars had seen every night and which conhrmed his discovery. With a last look at the clear sky. he went in to the house with the incessant sound of the waves below murmuring in his ears. The next morning when he had come out of the cottage, he looked at the angry waves, foaming and dashing in their Wrath. Then he looked for the Willow, and looked again in vain. The Willow was gonel Straight through his heart went a chill that smote him like a knife. The sea seemed to rise up as the sneering monster and challenge him once again. Then Lars took the dare. He ran on wings ofthe wind to the coast station where Captain Walt was just emerging. Captain Waltlu he panted. The Willow is gonelt' The old sea captain regarded the boy quizzicallyg then he laughed. I reckon you've sprung that one on me too often, lad. Besides I've told you the Willow has quit wandering. No, nol Look, where is she? panted the boy as he pointed a trembling finger towards the grey expanse. The Captain looked, then Said, Well, I'll bei l Lad, it is truel But the sea will have its own, and it's none ot' our business when she takes it. Oh, Captain Walt, We must go after herl Go after her? On this sea? Why boy, I believe you're ill. Come -U 'tNo, no, not for her, but l someone is on the Willow! The old captain gasped, but he was a man who knew his duty. Then the feud of the ages was on. As Lars stepped into the little coast- guard boat, he trembled and mur- mured a prayer. Then he raised his fist and whispered to the foaming waves, Now, now, you beast! For hours they cruised the angry sea, looking in vain for the ragged masts of the old derelict, the Willow-the-Wifp, for once more she had felt the Wanderlust of the sea. It was miraculous how the rugged little boat stood the violence of the sea, cruising, as it seemed, in vain. At, last Lars pointed a trembling finger and cried. See, the Willow. ' Yes, the Willow, sinking slowlyl and standing on it a figure holding in his arms a small bundle ..... When at last the stranger was in the boat, the three watched the Willow sink lower and lower until the foamy waves washed over her masts. The old derelict had found her rest at last. When Lars and the Captain and the stranger were safe in the warm coast station, and the pale father of Lars clasped the dripping boy in his arms, the stranger told his story: how he, a govern- ment scientist, had made the deserted old ship his laboratory and observatoryg how he had worked to perfect a delicate little instrument that would be invalu- able to sailors, how, that night, the Willow broke her chain and drifted out to sea on her last trip. And when next Lars went to the rocks. he stood as a conquering hero might, and gazed, una- fraid, at the sea, for he had accepted the challenge. - Ruth Maiztfll, '22, 3115112 bong Sparrow There's a bird, that I know, of slight renown, But one of the bestg lie flies in a coat of modest brown With stripes of gray in his vest. When he sings to his mate from the tip ofa tree. llis throat near burst with melody, - Sweet, sweet, sweet, l'm bubbling over with cheer, e Sweet, sweet, sweet, Come over here, over here. Let him fly Where he will, he will never intrude, On my love he may surely depend For he helps keep the orchards of insects subdued, And l'm proud I can call him my friend. l banish my sorrows and troubles, and fling