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

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6 TITE ROUND TABLE THE MENDER OF BROKEN DREAMS “Dear Neil, Yes it is all over! I feel that I cannot marry a man who is selfish— and your refusal to help that poor fel- low the other day shows that you are just that. You couldn’t spare the time, you say. No, because you didn’t want to—it would have made you late for the game at the club. I thought I cared for you, Neil—I rather guess I did—but this is goodbye. Ruth.” For an eternity it seemed, Neil sat with the note in his hand—the note that had brought all his air castles tumbling about his feet. Ruth—good- bye—selfish! Was he? Yes— he ad- mitted it with a groan. Why—oh— why, had he been so thoughtless?— for he was that rather than selfish. He laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes wearily, but still the thoughts would come, and in despair he picked up his violin and began to play. What soul-inspiring melodies can be brought forth when sorrow is in the heart! He played on, unmind- ful of the hour—forgetful of all save the music—trying to shut out a face that was constantly before him. At last from sheer exhaustion he sank down in a chair and rested his chin on his hand. How long he sat there he did not know, but suddenly he be- came aware of another presence and he looked up, startled to see a youth before him—a youth with sad eyes and a dejected droop to his shoulders—a youth trying to choke back unhidden tears. ‘T heard,” he whispered brokenly, “it was beautiful. Just like what Dad used to play and, thinking of him, I couldn’t do it Here, take it before I am tempted. He ruined me, but I can’t do it.” He dropped a glittering object at Neil’s feet and hurried out into the night. Coming from his daze with a shock, Neil looked down—a gun. Then the boy had intended to kill someone! And he—what had he done? He had pre- vented it. “Selfish—thoughtless! ” A new purpose had come to his mind, and before the night was over he knew what course to take. First, to forget her. And since forgetting one comes from thinking of others this would be easy. Then he must sell his business—that was it—sell his busi- ness, and go on the road, with the great blue sky for a roof and his violin for a companion! Two weeks later found Neil on the road—quite happy now, except for one thing—wandering from place to place, doing a kind deed here, bestow- ing a friendly word there, and as time went on and people came to know him, this strange, kind fellow with the violin under his arm, they grew to love him. How many families he re- united! How often he could replace tears with smiles. The children called him “The Prince of Happiness,” but, it was a poet—a young fellow whom Neil had saved from disgrace, who gave him the title which rightly fitted him — “The Mender of Broken Dreams.” And then he met Robin. Robin was a cripple—a poor fellow with a mind as distorted as his poor body. In his eyes everyone was an enemy ready to ridicule him, or to cast stones at him. But Neil with his violin won over the confidence of Robin, who followed him around like a faithful dog. “Neil,” Robin would say, “why are

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THE ROUND TABLE 5 UNE ECOLE FRANCAISE II y a peu de difference entre les ecoles francaises et americaines mais y espere que vous voulez suivre pendant une journee une fille dans un lycee francais. En France 1’ education est donnee dans les lycees de garcons et de filles, les professeurs des lycees et ant des hommes, et dans les lycees de filles les professeurs sont des femmes et des hommes. Prenons par example une fille de quatorze ans qui s’ appelle Jeanne. Elie se leve de bonne heure et arrive a V ecole vers huit heures et demie du matin. Elie n’ arrive pas seule; la mere, le pere ou un domestique l’accompagne jusqua’ 1’ age de dix- huit ans parceque les filles de France ne circulent librement dans les rues. Tous les cours qu’ ils suivent a cet age sont obligatoires et consist- ent en; cinq heures de francais, comprenant la litterature et la gram- maire, par semaine; trois heures d’ anglais; d allemand ou d’ espagnol; deux heures d’ Jaistoire ou geogra- phic. II y a aussi, comme ehez nous, les mathematiques, le dessin, la couture et la gymnastique. Tont ee qui donne a peu pres six heures de travail par jour avec 1’ exception des jendis et les dimanches qui sont entierement libres. Jeanne s' occupe heaucoup aussi chez elle parcequ’elle etudie son piano une heure par jour et a en outre plusieures heures de travail et d’ etude a la maison on dans la salle d’ etude a Y ecole. En France on ne permet pas que les filles aillent au teatre comme aux Etats-Unis. Les filles ont pen de liberte pendant leur jeunesse. Soyez Heureux, mes amis, que vous demeurez aux Etats-Unis, que vous avez les avantages dy une edu- cation liberale, et que vous avez 1’ opportunity de devenir de bons citoyens de ce pays. Aimez beau- coup la France mais aimez mieux les Etats Unis. Soyez fideles a votre ecole et a vos amis. Leonora Hodgdon,

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THE ROUND TABLE 7 you so good to me? Everyone else laughs.” “Why should I laugh, Robin, boy?” asked Neil, “you are my pay—you’ll never leave me, will you?” With pitiable tenderness the boy seized Neil’s hand and raised it to his lips, and when he raised his face there were tears in his eyes. “Here, here, let’s have a tune!” cried Neil—and lifting the bow to the strings he played for Robin. And so the friendship grew, until Neil with the hunchback by his side became a common sight. No one really knows how it hap- pened, but there came a day when memories came flooding back to his mind—memories of one whom he thought had been forgotten. He had thought it safe to pass through her town, but he had not counted on see- ing her. It unnerved him, and for the first time “The Mender of Broken Dreams” spoke an unkind word to Robin. Poor boy! He could not under- stand the change. “Neil,” he said, touching the bowed head, “Neil, you’re not ill?” “Leave me alone, I told you or 1 11” —he raised his arm. Horror stricken, Robin cringed and with a cry of pain, ran away, as swiftly as his poor limbs could carry him. In a flash, realization came to Neil, and he gave a cry of remorse—what had he done! “Robin, come back, Robin boy, I didn’t mean it.” He dashed after him, vainly calling, but Robin would not hear. Neil had hurt him. Neil, the one he loved! On he sped until his aching limbs could carry him no farther, with Neil close on his heels. With a cry of pain. Robin flung himself to the ground, just as a big car dashed around the corner. This was the easiest way to die—to leave forever the one whom he had loved and who had failed him. But the machine did not hit its in- tended victim. Quick as a flash Neil was at his side, and catching him, literally flung him out of the way. A cry—a crash—then darkness! “He’s had a hard time of it, but I guess he’ll pull through.” Neil opened his eyes and wondered why it pained him to do so. Then he remembered, and a little cry escaped his lips. “What is it?” the nurse bent anxi- ously over him. “Robin—my friend—” “Oh, he’s safe,” she replied. “He’s been asking for you every day.” He gave a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. “You are a brave fellow,” she added. “No,” wearily, “just selfish.” “Delirious again,” she remarked to the doctor. The seventh day a note came—a note that brought the sunshine back to Neil, and this is what it said: “Neil dear, I begged so hard to see you but they wouldn’t let me, so this note must do. Can you ever forgive me for calling you selfish? The story of your noble sacrifice has reached the farthest parts of the state. It was splendid of you! And now. Oh “Men- der of Broken Dreams” do hurry up and get well. I have something awfully important to tell you. Will you hear it? Ruth.” And here my tale ends, for the “Mender of Broken Dreams” has found an able assistant. E.V.H.,’25