Schuster School - Proscenium Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Page 52 text:

CC Tony 3? BY EDNA M. ROHAN HE. hot, August sun heat so furiously upon the lafge, Western city that the very air smelled scorched. A short, stout man, in gray crash mopped his forehead, as he trudged up the great steps of the City Building, and pushed his way through the entrance. Down a long corridor hung with oil paintings and mottoes he hurried and taking a key from his pocket, opened a door on which was printed in large, black letters 'iBoard of Education, Superintendent's Office, Private.n He hastily pulled off his hat and coat, Hung them over an armchair, threw up the window, and switched on the electric fan. This done he settled himd self in the chair behind his desk and glanceci at the pile of morning mail. A lilac- tinted letter on the top caught his eye. The handwriting was peculiar and un- known to him. As he slipped the delicatelydcarved paper cutter through the envelope, he smiled and said to himself, uWell, I guess this is another appeal from a girl who wants a well paying position and no work to do. Penmanship though shows some character. He read the note through several times, and was adjusting his spectacles When he hearci a footstep in the corridor. Turning to the door, he called: 15 that you, Graves? uYes, sir.H uVVelI, come in for a moment.,, A tall, thin man With a high forehead, crossed over to the desk and the super, intendent began, Have you that vacancy in the Settlement district filled? HNo, Mr. Deane, not yet. Well then, read this. It seems as though few teachers want to go into the slums but -- Graves took the letter that was handed him and after reading it said: The writer seems pretty much in earnest. I think you could give her a e iiA trial, anyway, put in the superintendent. HYes, Graves, I will. Graves considered his business at an end and ambled out of the room. The grayahaired superintendent proceeded to answer the letter. uMy dear Miss Haversf, he wrote, I have received your application and beg to inform you that we are holding a position for you in the Settlement School. Classes re-open September the eighth. Sincerely, HH. 0. Deane, HSupt. of Schools.H Three days after H. O. Deane had dropped the above note into the post office, Eileen Havers was working in her little garden patch at the rear of a small frame house, out in the suburbs of K The morning dew was fast being dried up by the blazing sun, anti the bees buzzed away as they went from flower to Hower. The weeds seemed to have sprung up over night, and while Eileen was trying to clear the tomato patch, her eye fell on a big, fat green worm. After a few Page fifty

Page 51 text:

PALMYRE. erelieved, and more gentle than hitherto, as if trying to atone in some measure.J ,Tis early yet. Come, let us sit together As often we did in that first strange year, When I so heedlessly became your wife. THE PAINTER Heedlessly. Yes, that is true, Paimyre. My love seemed answered then, and even now I think you're fond of me, tho' of thy Whole Heart I was never master. There's a love That somehow we have missed: You cannot see God in the painted music of the skies, The love I knew e or dreamed of - cannot bloom In your strange heart. iA whistle outsidc.1 PALMYRE iRising hurriedly, apologetically, as she is going. E For just a little while. taxiH THE PAINTER tPacing restlessly up and down. I What does he do to please her? I know some Would kill him outright. Kill the thing she loves? Strange, I cannot deny her anything. Weak, weak! l'Seeing the outsidej She slips my ring upon his hand. II He takes a short dagger from his belt and Jingers iLJ To kill them both q and still their childlike hearts -- God, how he kisses her! That long embrace Must end! Eternity shall part or join Their erring souls! She is - she was - my Wife. God judge me if mine be the greater crime! i.gxilj iThe curtain falls and is almost immediately raised. Some time has elapsed, for the moon is almost setting. A shaft of light falls on PALMYRE'S dead body lying on the marble bench. THE PAINTER stands. silent, looking at it. He has staunched the blood with a handkerchief and crossed her hands upon her breastj THE PAINTER 0 beautiful! My beautiful Palmyre. . Thou canst not now deny me thy cold lips! iHe kisses lienl Curtain. Page forty-nine

Page 53 text:

tedious efforts, she succeeded in landing her captive on a grape leaf, and was secretly admiring the squirming object and wondering why she had never studied zoology, when Buster, the neighbor's dog, began to bark furiously. She scrambled to her feet, crushed the worm unintentionally, shook down her muddy calico dress, snatched her straw hat off her head, and with her jet black hair Hying about her Hushed, eager face, she ran down to the little side porch. Eileen caught a fleeting glimpse of the blueashirted postman disappearing around the corner, as she thrust her grimy hand into the empty mail box. The joyous look in the blue eyes began to fade, and, going to the door, she called, Oh, mother, did you get the mail? N0, dear, the postman didnit stop? Eileen entered the house,trudged up the bare steps and into her mothefs sitting room. She fell into a chair, and was about to give way to her feelings when she spied the wet, blackebordered kerchief which her whiteahaired mother had tucked into her workbasket. Mrs Havers did not look at her daughteris Hushed face, but said: Daughter, isnit it too warm for you in that hot sun? Oh! not a bit, mother, my hat protected me. I thought I'd get a w-- Yes, dear, probably the postman Will bring it this afternoon. Maybe. Isupposeit's almost time for lunch. Would you like some iced tea, mother? Mrs. Havers was about to answer when she heard a knock. In another mine ute a big, red-haired, freckled-faced woman stood in the room. Oh, sure, mum, she began, uthat maiIman's gettin',too ouId to carry let! ters anymore. He left this at our door. I thought as it might be from Miss Eileenis swateheart, so I rushed right over with it. 'That was very lovely of you, Maggie. Both Eileen and I appreciate your kindness for we have been looking for the letter. Well, Mrs. Havers, I'll be goin', called Maggie, backing down the stairs, HBut if yez need the washin' done this week, just let me know and I'll be here. Eileen heard the strange voice and was about to come into the room, when her mother put her head into the kitchen and said: Here is your letter, daughter. The postman left it by mistake over at Math-I ers. I hope there is good news. EiIeen hastily ran a hairpin through the envelope, unfolded the Ietter, read it several times and then Hung her arms about her mother and criedu Oh! It's too good to be true. Just think of your daughter as a teacher in the SettIement School. Can you do it? Read it, mother, and she thrust the paper ' into her motheris trembling hand. The next few days were spent in replenishing Eileenis scant and threadbare wardrobe. Before nine o'clock, on the morning of the eighth of September, the court- yard of the Settlement School was black with roller skaters, hoop rollers, and rope jumpers of every size and compIexion. As Miss Havers, immaculate in her trim, linen frock, came up the walk, an overgrown, dirtyalooking boy, with sleeves rolled up, and shirt collar turned in, called to his companions: uI-Iey, fellows, look at the new teachesome peach, eh? Wonder if we'll have her? Page Efty-one