Roxboro High School - Rocket Yearbook (Roxboro, NC)

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eee ae knew, but they had to, and to believe it was almost a Penidibrine hae ‘i egan Pee with their boy, they told him what such a career hey , they urged a turning back to the “right way,” but all seemed to be in See aa strange as it may seem, this boy, once so pure in character, gradually changed goo to bad, bounded from bad to worse, and finally reached the point where he would commit acts that were almost odious to his family. He would skip school, go with bad associates to moving picture shows, and engage in the most degrading forms of pro- fanity. The scenes that he saw in the theatre influenced him much and created in him a lust for things that were reckless and wild. Possible that is not the tendency that the mo- tion pictures extend to all boys, but naturally, Davie Conley, on his down road, took that side of them. Finally the idea of going west got into his head, and the more he thought of it the more determined he was to go. He simply knew not or cared not that he was bring- ing his parents, especially his mother—the dear of all earthly friends—to a state of sorrow that could hardly be borne. “Davie,” said a good gentleman one day, you’re grieving your parents much by your conduct of late. Your friends, too, the people that have so loved and praised you are los- ing confidence in you. They will, if you don’t change forsake you soon. To do that would hurt them greatly, to do less they cannot unless you reform. Davie, won't you give up those reckless ways you are pursuing and make your parents and friends happy once more? I, and everybody else I think, would like so much to see you do that.” No, sneered the headlong boy, “I care not what my friends do or say. So far as father and mother are concerned, nobody could please them and have a good time. I’m out for a good time—any old way I can get it. I’m going West. I haven’t told anybody, but I’m going, and all a dozen preachers could say to me wouldn’t change my mind. I’m going with Billy Chandler to the West.” “Poor boy,” murmured the gentleman, going with Billie Chandler? Why, he’s the worst fellow in these paris. Only experience will convince you. You'll find it out some day, but it may be too late then.” True to his word Davie Conley was found missing one day and on the same day Bil- lie Chandler was absent from his family circle. They had “gone West” but gone West was not the worst of it. Davie had blotted the white sheet of his family name with the black act of forging a check on his father. He bad secureda large sum of money and gone, it was supposed, to the West. “Oh! Mother, mother! We are ruined! Our name is disgraced! Our boy is gone, I know not where to, and has carried off a considerable sum of money,” Mr. Conley told his wife on his return from town in the afternoon following Davie’s disappearance in the morning. “Cod forbid that such pertains to us. Woe! Alas! My poor boy gone! I shall sure- ly die of grief,” mourned Mrs. Conley. “Be calm mother, take it easy, he’ll come back in time. You remember the story of the “Prodigal Son” recorded in the Holy Book? He'll come back, even though he comes like that one did,” said Mr. Conley trying to sooth his grief stricken wife. “Yes, b- b-ut that may all be too late!” answered Mrs. Conley in a half whisper. Adriene too, the same sweet character of former years, was deeply grieved by the conduct of her brother. Many times she had begged him to turn from his reckless career, but all in vain. Weeks, many months, passed and nothing was heard of Davie. Numerous adver- tisements brought no tidings. Was he living or was he dead? Where was he? As time went on the burdensome grief of parents and sister grew heavier and heavier until it had reached a limit of weight, and was accepted by the carriers as a load for life. And that load consumed its full share of human energy, especially from the mother. All the sooth- ing hands of her friends could not lighten her burden one atom; so she continually dwind- led away, and the cheering smile of former times was replaced by the cruel lines of grief. In the meantime Davie was somewhere in the West, gradually approaching the place 31

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THE MODERN PRODIGAL SON Davie Conley, a brilliant boy of twelve, and the only son of Mr. and Mrs. Westmore- land M. Conley, was gleefully playing with Beauty, his pet dog. His parents were sitting in quietude in a large swing, located under the spreading branches of a big elm tree that stood near the house. They seemed to be perfectly contented watching the mannerly ac- tions, the courteous graces of their boy, as he went to and fro, in merry romps with his dog. They had a daughter also, who was three years the junior of “Brother Davie,” and equally as lovely. However, she, Adriene by name, was visiting relatives in a near-by city at the time of this little event. “Oh, father! Isn’t it real joy to have such a son as Davie?” asked Mrs. Conley with a happy air. “He’s so obedient, so pleasant and graceful.” “Yes, if only—if only we can succeed in keeping him that way. You know boys are so easily influenced, and so often the subject to changes in character when they come in contact with others,” was Mrs. Conley’s somewhat serious reply. “That’s right; and Davie must go to the city to enter high school, andthere he will be with all types. Ill be glad when those tedious high-school years are over,” responded Mrs. Conley, solemnly. The Conley’s were possessors of a beautiful farm home, in the heart of Henry County, Virginia. The farm was utterly wrapped up in country nature, game-filled forests, emerald fields, sparkling streams, and warbling birds—everything the human heart could desire. Mr. Conley was a prosperous farmer, though not an extremely wealthy one. How- ever, he went wanting nothing that was necessary for a pleasant life. Neither father nor mother of Davie were unexcelled in kindness and good disposi- tion. They lent happy smiles and kind words everywhere. Besides their excellent char- acter, they were graceful in form and had enduring constitutions. Mr. Conley was noted for his strength and courage. . So how could one wonder at the loveliness of Davie Conley, or Adriene, being the offspring of such praise worthy parents? They, as children possessed all the individual characteristics of father and mother. These characteristics so perfectly blended in the children, tended to bind them closely to their parents with cords of love, hard to be brok- en. If such ties of affection are broken, intense sorrow and suffering must fall upon some- one. In this case they were destined to be broken as shall be seen later. ar During the next two years, those of Davie’s first teens, he worked earnestly in school combating every temptation to do anything wrong with real success. At the age of four- teen he entered high school. The first year there proved to be remarkably good. | He: gained the confidence and love of his teachers by his obedience, courteous manners and honesty. His parents rejoiced in his excellent work; they urged him on, and did everything in their power to incourage him. The people of the country enjoyed his presence, honored him, and many times he was the subject of conversation among them. This exalted merit clung to Davie until he was about in the middle of his second year in high-school. What then? Ah! woe betide thé two succeeding years—the blossom- ing time of his future. At that point in his schoolincy, Davie fella victim to the usual lessening mcral standard that boys of his age all want to do. He began to associate with boys of low force of character. Gradually he yielded to their persuasions, and more and more did things to undermine his good foundation, He succeeded for some time in keeping his parents igno- rant of the part that he was sadly wandering astray. Ruta revolving wheel cannot turn noiselessly forever, so the dreadful fact finally became known to father and mother. They 30

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where he had nothing but himself. His associates took a liberal part in the spending of his money, but when money was gone Billy Chandler was gone, and consequently in course of time Conley was left alone in the raw West with no means of subsistence. Prior to this, he had spent most of his time in sight seeing and had given no atten- tion to the occupations of that part of the country. Therefore, when he came to the place where he had to work or take the consequences—which were of course to beat his way or starve—he could not master any of the few jobs available. Asa result he could get very little employment and soon began to suffer for the lack of proper food and clothes. It was right here that he first realized, seriously, his mistake of leaving home. His conscience be- gan to be aroused by an occasional dream of home. His better judgment | now began to shower shame upon him. Oh! how he wished he could see that sweet smile of mother! Often of late he had seen her in his nightly visions, but that loving smile was absent. In its place was a pallid, grief stricken face. How such dreams did bore into his heart! He got to the point where he loathed to sleep. He wanted to write home, but his pride and shame held out stubbornly against it. If he only could get just one line, aye, just one word written by those precious hands at home he would be relieved he thought. Ah! but noth- ing so good as that was for Davie now. Once he thought of going home, but now out of the question. So he did not dwell on that thought long. He was overa thousand miles from home; with not the means of living, much less traveling. One evening, after he had worked long enough to save for himself, the amount of about Twenty-five dollars, his foreman said to him: : “Old Sport, I’m very sorry to have to say it, but I guess you are out of ajob. You’re not skilled in the work, and we are obliged to have skilled workers.” “Qh! retorted Davie, “I was hoping to hold my job until Ihad enough money to pay my way home.” “Can’t help that son, you’d no business out here no how, I don’t suppose. Here’s the remaining two bucks due you,” rejoined the man. Davie was at this time in a little manufacturing town of northern New Mexico. He was so much in hope of earning enough money with which to pay his return home, that these last words of the foreman fell heavily upon him. There was no other employment open, so there was nothing to do but go somewhere, and yet there was no where to go. He dared not start towards home, and yet he dared to. A news boy came along from whom he purchased a paper in hope of consoling himself by reading the latest news. In looking through the paper his sight was almost snatched from him when his eyes fell upon a cer- tain item. It was as follows: Mother of Runaway Virginia Boy Seriously III. Roanoke, Virginia, Feb. 18—Mrs. Westmoreland M. Conley of Henry County, Vir- ginia, and mother of Davie P. Conley, the boy who ran away about twenty months ago, is seriously ill with an attack of brain fever. Mrs. Conley has never ceased to mourn the loss of her son, whom she says she believes was killed. It is thought by expert physicians, that her illness was brought on her by the grief of her son. There is very little. hope of her recovery, for Dr. D. O. Dandell is reported to have said: “Mrs. Conley is in a critical condition. There is a hundred chances to one that she will not recover.” “Oh, Heaven forgive me! What have I done? Committed murder, killed the dear- est of all my friends, mother! I'll go to her; but what’s the use now? It’s all too late; she is surely dead now! Nevertheless Il go. These weary limbs shall never rest until I’m safe at home. Oh, Gracious Goodness! Hide from me this overbearing shame and land me safe at home! All this he utteerd in a passionate way, then sat down and tried to sooth himself. “IT must go home, and once more there, I'll never leave again,” he said after cor- quering his emotions. The next day found a sad, haggard face peering wildly around in one of the cars of an east-bound train. The possessor of this face, the Person of Davie Conley, seemed to be void of consolation. His face was pallid, and his tongue almost speechless. Fis clothes Sy