Red Bank High School - Log Yearbook (Red Bank, NJ)

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8 THE ROUND TAR IE The Thanksgiving vacation was soon ended, and Tom Judson had to go back to school. “Well, Tom, why the long face? ’ inquired Uncle Jim at noon. “School gets worse and worse,” was the answer. “Who’s keeping you in this fine day?” ‘‘No one.” “Then what has happened? Did you fail a test?” “Worse than that,” groaned Tom. “Everyone in the High School has to write an essay on his Pet Hobby.” “Well, why don’t you write about radio?” “Aw—all the fellows are going to write that!” For a week, Tom worried about the essay, worried himself, his mother, and all others with whom he could possibly speak of it. The essay was to be handed in on Monday. It was Satur- day night before he realized that he hadn’t written a thing. Mr. and Mrs. Judson were out so Tom went resolute- ly to his desk and got out paper and a pencil. He played with the pencil awhile, then got up and sharpened it. A few more minutes of restless silence, then he took off his collar and rolled up his sleeves. “Whew what a job!” he exclaimed. He looked around thoughtfully for a while, foraged in the kitchen for a piece of cake and finally scrawled across the top of the first sheet, the one word “Skateing.” ‘‘Why, hadn’t' he thought of that be- fore?” He knew a lot about skating and in a short time he had written enough for his essay. “I’ll copy it tomorrow, I guess,” he said and with a sigh of relief put it away. “On the day before Christmas the Judson home was full of guests and decorated with holly wreaths and Christman bells while in one corner stood a giant Christmas tree. The postman’s whistle! What could he coming now? “Package for Thomas Judson, Ma’am,” the postman said as he hand- ed it to Mrs. Judson. “Mother, can I open it? Just this one? Please.” ‘‘Well, all right. But just this one.” Tom untied the string with excited fingers. On top of an oblong red box he found a white envelope with a letter inclosed from the school superintend- ent. It stated that the teachers had voted to award a prize for the best Pet Hobby essay. Judson s essay had taken the prize which had been selected with the aid of the essay itself. “Open it, Tom,” his father urged. Tom lifted the red cover and dis- closed a bright new pair of skates. “Now, I wonder,” he began. Then startled the group by exclaiming “1 know—the wishbone!” --------o------- AT THE SIGN OF THE GREEN STAR It was a wild wierd night'. The over boisterous wind clattered the shutters and sent the late Autumn leaves scam- pering crazily over the chilled ground. The sky was a canopy of black velvet. Not a star dared to peep out lest it be blown from its place by the rapacious winds. But inside, in the warm cozy house, snugly ensconced in a huge chair be- fore the fireplace, sat Ruth King, deep- ly absorbed in a book. At length she yawned. “What a clever mystery,” she exclaimed aloud. “But I’m so sleepy that’ I scarcely feel like reading it- however good it may

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THE R O U X1) TA BI .E 7 jarred upon us after the immaculate- ness of the school and we explored dis- passionately, finding nothing of more than a passing interest. Ascending the wide staircase though proved a more stimulating task. I do not know whether we went up so slowly and timorously because we expected it to fall with us or that we thought to be knocked unceremoniously right down again by some unknown evil lying in wait for us or what it was, but our boredom gave way to a tingling and we regarded each other with rather scared expressions. The feeling per- sisted as we explored the upper story and we fairly shook as we finally found a door which was locked. Resolutely we battered it down and entered. A quick glance around revealed nothing. An impulsive pull however, at a closed door brought' immediate results. The door clattered from its hinges and amid a cloud of dust hit the floor like a cannon shot. Our first impulse was to run and to run fast! Fear held us glued to the spot and after collecting our scattered wits, we hauled out an innocent looking trunk which was at the otherwise empty closet. We literally dove into the box. And it was almost with disappointment that we saw only papers in it. The greater number of them written in a foreign language. Searching further, we found a small sealed packet. Like the locked door this seal seemed to conceal mys- tery and we lost no time in breaking it. One of our number translated the small paper which it contained. It was almost with horror that we learned it to be the confession of the murderer of Monsieur --------. The murderer’s father an exiled French nobleman, had formerly resided in this house and had so concealed the paper in order that his son, the real murdered might be saved from prison. After hearing that dismal account' of the murder, the house took on for us, a horrible aspect and we hurriedly made our exit glad to be once more on the trail and at length to find ourselves safe at school. Fearing punishment, we were at first resolved not to disclose to anyone the content of the paper but our happiness was unbounded when, after showing the packet to the Dean, we learned that our unwittingly happy discovery had been the means of pardoning an innocent man and the bringing to jus- tice the murdered of the unfortunate Monsieur ------------. But our escapade had not gone en- tirely without notice, nor was our sub- sequent good deed ample grounds for the pardoning of our disobedience. We were punished, I shall not say how, but you may be sure, we never went out again in search of excitement. -------o------- THE WISH BONE “Here, Tom, help me pull this wish- bone,” Uncle Jim reached across the table and Tom grasped the other end of the wish-bone. “Ready, Tom?” “Ready! ” The wishbone snapped and Tom joy- ously held up the larger end. “Hur- ray,” he shouted, “I’m sorry you lost it. Uncle Jim, but my joy is greater than my sorrow.” Tom’s father and mother smiled and Uncle Jim, the Thanksgiving guest, tried to look sorrowful but, failing ut- terly, burst into a hearty laugh. “That’s all right, Tom. I wished that you would get it so my wish came true anyway.”

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THE ROUND TABLE 9 be. I wish there was something else to do.” She turned the leaves of the book slowly, idly glancing at the pict- ures and laughingly said—‘‘It makes charming reading, but' such thirtgs don’t happen in real life. I, for one, have never had a real adventure.” Laying the book down, she rested her chin in her hand and gazing into the flames plunged into a profound revery. The winds meanwhile kept up its dis- mal howling. Ruth shivered at the sound of it. More and more piercing- ly it howled, then suddenly at the peak of the crescendo, seemed to pause for breath and Ruth heard a tap-tap sound from somewhere, seemingly close by. Winds whistled ominously in the chim- ney. The lights flickered. A log in the fireplace fell in myriad fragments, showering tiny sparks as it crashed. Ruth was terrified. Tap-tap-tap—came the sound again. She turned, fear crystallizing into action. Cautiously, she made her way to a window irresistibly drawn by some preternatural force. Peering out she discerned just below the sill a muffled figure, she could not see the face, but she felt burning eyes fixed relentlessly upon her. She gazed at it awed to the point of immovability. From its cloak a hand crept out' and held before her fright-glazed eyes a star cut from some strange fabric and of a phosphorescent green. Then a muffled hollow voice intoned the single word “Come!” And the figure disappeared. Ruth stood irresolute. Half afraid, half tensed with excitement. ‘‘What a chance for adventure!” she cried final- ly. ‘‘Shall I go or— but why should I be afraid? Nothing can harm me. Besides—what fun it will be to tell people, Tom especially at the dance tomorrow night!” This last idea cap- tivated her. Hurriedly, she donned her coat and hat and slipping on heavy gloves, left the house. Once outside, however, she lost the confidence which had so helpfully buoyed her up. For where was she to go? Surely the figure had said “Come!”—but where? Sev- eral minutes she stood there expectant of some clue, but finally somewhat vexed, she turned to re-enter the house. Co-incident with her movement, a green star appeared on a nearby tree. Of course, she gave up immediately all thought of going again into the house and walked towards the star as if hyp- notized. Her course was now plain for it was evident that her mysterious guide meant to drop these stars all along the way. On and on she went, led by those strange clues, now on trees, on fences on houses, or on sidewalks. So intent' was she on her way that she lost all cognizance of her path and did not notice where it was leading her until at last, looking up, she found herself at the edge of a shadowy glum forest. Here the trail ended. Although she looked about and flashed the light she had brought along, almost with unwit- ting cleverness, she was unable to find any more clues. Disappointment and gloom overcame her and so highly keyed had she been to her task-—if it may be called that, that she very neatly collapsed. Steering herself she turned and commended the weary walk home. Gloomily back over the trail she had just traversed so ardently—went Ruth, when abruptly she stopped and bent over a small packet upon which winked leeringly a green star. Timorously she picked it up, then with growing exhil- eration tore it ope nto find a small paper bearing this: ‘‘Go to old Wab