Scituate High School - Chimes Yearbook (Scituate, MA)

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THE CHIMES 13 witnessed the trial of some whispering leaves tliat had gossiped among themelves. The boys had returned to the village an d reported that Peter Barlow had lost his m ' md. Then one bright morning some other boys decided to visit the estate and see if they too could get a glimpse of the ' ' crazy boy. They climbed noiselessly up over the wall and sure enough there he was in the garden. He had some- thing in his hand which looked like a wounded bird. The boys watched breathlessly as Peter bandaged the bird ' s wing. But when Peter turned his face up to the sky and asked, Mother, do you think he will be all right now? one of the boys laughed. Peter ' s large eyes became bright and his face white with ano-er when he saw the intruders. He clutched a large stick and ran toward the vanishing boys. He slipped; his head hit a rock and he lay very still until Benjamin, the old tutor, came out and carried him into the house. He tried to tell Benjamin about it. Benjamin, do yoit understand ? Thev were ogres and they came into my king- dom that was built for Mother, just mother, Benjamin, and people like her. That ' s why I was angry; I didn ' t want them to spoil it for her, they would frighten her T know. ' The child lay a while in the old man ' s arms. Then he said, Benjamin, there is an old man, Silas Marner, Mother told me about him, and he had been hurt by those ogres. They whispered about him. T must go back to my kingdom and help him. I must go right awav, Benjamin. 1 mus — I—, Mother. Benjamin ' s eyes were wet as he laid the dead child on the couch and knelt, with his head bowed in an attitude of pray- er. Perhaps he was praying that he too might go to Peter ' s land. A young lady entered a stationery store and asked for a can of floor wax. Pm very sorry, said the clerk, but all we have is seal- ing wax. Don ' t try to be siHy ' she snapped; who ' d want to wax a ceiling?

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12 THE CHniES ' lieii. a year and a half later, Mrs. Barlow died, she had not yet explained the gossip to Peter. But that faithful lit- tle l)oy remembered how she had told him to love and trust her. Indeqd how could he help doing his? She was his god- dess, 1)eautiful, and kind, and good as any saint. Some- times he thought he could almost see her sitting l3y the fire where she had sat on stormy nights, reading to him about brave men and women who had sacrificed their li es and happiness for mankind. He could hear her telling him he must be brave and true for truth ' s sake, and kind because Jesus had taught kindness and love. Oh. who could doubt that she was good ? Nearly three years passed and during that time Peter, who lived alone with his servants and old tutor, had not been known to visit the little village in the valley. et the whispers persisted and they managed to reach the great, lonesome, mountain home. There was a new whis])er too. It went something like this, ' ' They say he has lost biis mind since his mother ' s death; thinks he ' s a ruler or judge or something. ' ' Yes, a ruler ! Peter was a ruler, for the heartsick and lonesome little boy had learned to hate the cruelties and shallowness of humans. He dreamed of an idcr.l land where kindness and understanding were the only laws, and gossip the worst crime that could be committed. In this land people lived as he and his mother had lived, — sitting by the fire reading wonderful books; or riding horse back up the steep mountain paths and down again into the can- yons and valleys where beautiful lush green grass and wild flowers grew. Then to satisfy that longing for their own kind, the people would gather together and talk of their different stories and poems; of their adventures in the hills, — and they would dance and play and l)e verv liappy. Everybody in this land would do his best to help others. Every door would be open to strangers and every heart would be loving, cherishing no troubles or dislikes. Peter, dreaming this, had had a great wall built around the Barlow estates to enclose his lonely kingdom. And curious village boys, peeping over this forbidding wall, had

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14 THE CHIMES THE LONE SCOUT Harriet Poland, ' 34 Toot — toot — toot — toot — etc. There, mother! How did that sound ? ' ' Perfect, came the reply. Peggy Dexter, tired out, sank down in a comfortable chair. No one could have prac- tised so faithfully as she had, day after day, on her bugle. She was a lone scout, without a captain, and in no troop. She ha,il to get her Girl Scout training by communicating with other scout leaders. The scouts were holding a con- test for buglars and drummers. Tomorrow was the day ! Where ' s that polish that I use for my bugle, mother? I can ' t find it anywhere. — Oh, never mind. I see It. Are you ironing my suit? All right. Peggy ' s head was all a whirl with bugles, suits and what not. She was very thankful when it came time for her to snuggle into bed and close her eyes. ' ' Wake up, Peggy ! Breakfast is all ready for you and it ' s late. ' ' Ho-hum! Why don ' t they make nights longer? She ate her breakfast hurriedly, and before long the clear notes of the bugle could be hea]i d from the music room. Mother, do you suppose Ell have half a chance, with all the other girls who are so much older and more experienced than I? Of course you will ! There ' s not a girl among them that can play as well as you. She asked such questions as these as she put on her suit, shined her Inigle, and tidied herself. Before she knew it, she was on the train and soon had landed at the building where the contest was to be held ! She was frightened when she, alone, went in among the crowd of girls. No one seemed to notice her. Everyone ])ut her had a chum to laugh and talk with. At last all were seated and everything was quiet. The drummers ' contest came first, but she didn ' t even notice that they w re playing at all. Next came the buglers.