Schuster School - Proscenium Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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The teacher bit into the apple as she picked some dead leaves from a scrawny little fern that grew on her desk. She was nibbling away at the core when a dark Object hurled through the air and fell at her feet. Eileen jumped back, and look ing down saw the halt-eaten form of a dead rat. 1 he coarse laugh that she knew so well rang through the corridor and made her tremble. No one but Tony would have dared to do such a thing, Eileen thought, as she started for the door, but the sight of the blurred gobbler loomed before her and she turned her steps to the win- dow. Her fists were clenched and her white teeth buried in her ashen lips, as she muttered, HThe odds seem to be against me, but I will treat him decently and maybe sometime he'll A crackling sound interrupted her soliloquy and an odor of burning rags. made her rush to the stove. Several times before the children had thrown old slate rags into the fire and aroused her fearful dread of being trapped in a burning building, besides causing much excitement. The door of the stove was stubborn, but finally, after much tugging, yielded, and Eileen saw only a glowing bed of coals. She closed the door with a bang and smiled to herself, for being so childish, but as she turned to go to her desk a cloud of smoke poured into the room from the passageway, and blinded her. In an instant her only exit to the corridor was cut off. She made a mad rush for the window but the smoke grew thicker and thicker, and it was almost impossible for her to drag herself down the aisle. The heat was intenseethe window glass was crackling and the flames so near that Eileenys clothing was scorched. She made a desparate attempt to call out, but the smoke and Hames were too much for her and she fell face forward on the floor. Above the roar of the flames she heard the crash of falling glass and tried, in vain, to raise herself. A stout, dark object jumped into the crackling mass, ceiling, HMiss Eileen, Miss Eileen. The foot touched something, and bend, ing down he caught hold of Miss Havers' hand. He grabbed the coat from his head, threw it over her face and with his stout young arms about her girlish form started for the Window. His burden grew heavier, the Flames crept nearer, and his struggle became more desperate as he tried to clear the sill. Finally he reached the ladder and, trembling from head to foot, he descended from one round to the other into the yard, where hundreds of children cheered. The shouts of the bye standers and loud calls of the firemen awakened Eileen, and gazing up into the black, scarred face that bent above her, she muttered, uTony. It was a warm June night, and every seat in the great auditorium was taken, and throngs of people stood on tiptoe in the aisles. The last strains of the orches- tra died away, the curtains parted, and Dr. Anthony Grannetti, the youngest and most famous surgeon of the West, bowed before a brilliant audience. The peo- ple moved forward, craned their necks and stared at the doctor, who smiled back at them and said: Before beginning my lecture, ladies and gentlemen, I want to say that all I am and all that I ever hope to be, I owe, not to a sweetheart, wife or mother, as is usually the case in books, but to a teacher of my childhood, a young girl, who trusted and encouraged me when others despised me. It is to her the public owes a vote of thanks, for I am but the product of her encouragement? Shrieks of applause filled the house, and a little black-haired woman in the last row of the gallery, sobbed under her breath, as she dried the tears that ran down her faded cheeks. She slipped her thin, ink-stained fingers into the hand of her elderly companion and whispered softly, uWell, mother, 1 was right that morning. Page fifty-four

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gorgeous turkey gobbler, which one of the children had drawn on the blackboard, when she felt a tugging at her skirt. She dropped the chalk on the ledge and looking down saw Rosie Contadino mopping her tear-stained face With her ragged cuff, and holding a blurred, cracked slate, in the other hand. UOh, Miss Havers sobbed Rosie, her salty tears splashing on the slate. ujust look what Tony Granneti went and done. My problem's almost rubbed off. Eileen Havers adored Rose, the pet of the school. She would have given anything to have been able to punish Tony, but gritting her teeth, she led Rosie back to her desk and wiped the tears from the yougster's face with her own linen kerchief. Then taking an evil smelling sponge from a rusty baking powder can, she handed it to Rosie, saying: There, Rose, be a brave little girl and donit cry. I'm sure Tony didn't mean it. You won't have to do the example again, so you can wash your slate and put it away. i The other children heard Rosie sobbing and turned, one by one, to see what it was all ebout. Tony was much absorbed in cutting T. G. in his desk lid. Miss Eileen calmly walked to the board, added a few more resplendent touches to the gobbler, on which she was working When Rosie interrupted, called the class to order, and dismissed them for recess. Tony lingered at the end of the line, and Eileen called him back to her. His eyes cast upon the Hoot and kicking the end of the platform, he began: Gee, Miss Havers, I'm awful sorry I teased Rosie, this mornin', but you know sheis such a cute and the boy's black eyes danced with mischief. Eileen turned to look at Tony, but the devilish stare that caught her glance fright- ened her and biting her lips she said: iiYes, Tony, I know youire sorry anti you are never going to do it again. Will you stay after school a few minutes this afternoon and clean the board? Yesim. Can I ask one of the other fellows to stay, too? tiWell, Tony, lid rather you wouldnt; you see I want this to be a secret be- tween you and me. You understand. Now run along, and come in when the bell rings. The teacher turned to her desk anci began to correct the spelling papers, as Tony walked slowly toward the door. Suddenly, the Vivid coloring of the turkey gobbler on the board caught his eye and Without blinking an eyelash, he seized the felt eraser, rubbed it through the drawing, and made his exit, quick as a Hash. After the sound of footsteps had died away in the corridor, Eileen looked up from her work and caught sight of the blurred board. The hot blood rushed to her cheeks and tears to her eyes, as she sank back into her chair, wondering what to do with the boy. For more than the hundredth time she wondered if it were best to treat the child decently or to bully him. There were some very good points about the boy that needed encouragement, but every teacher in the building com- plained of him. Was she wrong or right?eShe didnit knowebut just at that moment Rosie came into the room clutching a large, redecheeked apple in her dimpied hand. - Here, Miss Havers, she said, me and Tony's made up. He giveid me this. Will you please cut it? You can have half. Eileen separated the apple with a bit of string and Rosie scampered out of the room, her teeth buried deep in the peace offering. Pane Gflyrthrr-n

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The Ship ancl the Well A F ANTASY BY GERTRUDE EVERTS BRICE. OR many years the old ship had lain idle on the beach. The winds had filled her bottom with sand, and nothing was left of her rigging but a few dangling ropes and the dirty remnant of a tattered sail that fluttered against her one wormeeaten mast. The other mast had been lost, snapped off a few feet from the deck. How old she was! The adventures of her youth had been mere memories for many years. But she was not so old as the wall there behind her. He had been hoary with moss and vines when She was first stranded here on the shore. He was very ancient and had seen much of the Changing life of the world, but he had not traveled or seen the strange sights she had witnessed in her time. She still remembered the days of her strong prime, when the bitter winds from the north, Where the icehurgs sail like ghostly ships, had challenged her in the wild- est hurricanes. Neither had she forgotten those days,. when, rolling idly on the monotonous swell of the Indian Ocean, all her boards hacl shrunk under the blazing sun in the terrible calms of the tropics. 0, she had lived! Perhaps the greatest hour of all had been in her last night upon the sea. How the black waves had buffeted and lashed themselves into foam against her as she pitched ancl shivered! O, the wind and the seal The sea and the wind! The wonder and the glorious power of their passion! Dark clouds had rushed across the sky, the salt spume had blinded the men, great waves had broken over her deck, the cries of the men had been drowned in the furor of the roaring gale. The sailors, waist deep in water, lashed to her trembling masts, had frantically toiled and shrieked and prayed. They had prayed for their little souls so sick with fear. Then her mainemast snapped, and as she rolled on her beam the sea had clashed over her, sweeping her clear. The morning found her driven high upon the shore. Yes, that was a memorable night. Old men in the village behind the wall told stories about the great storm as they sat over their ale around the tavern fire. The old wall knew what terrors the night had seen; he knew, and through the years had smiled and frowned upon the sea, and on the shifting sand, and the old battered ship left there to keep him company. The wall, though very ancient, was dignified and firm. The ivy, clothing his sides, rustled and showed the light lining of its glossy leaves whenever the wind passed. The wall had been built hundreds of years ago to protect the little town whose crooked streets and quaint inhabitants he had watched over for generae Pa ge Fifty'five