Seven Hills High School - Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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111' I I. 1? 55 7' CD IV I? wooden horses became troops of Eastern nobles mounted, on the blackest chargers, to do homage to their new master. Carl stepped forth, leading his princess, to receive the gifts and cheers of the crowd. He seated Elsie on the velvet covered throne and raised a hand to silence the cheering throng. if Most gracious lords, we accept your bounteous presents with a grateful heart. We shall do honor to the realm to the best of our ability and the standard of our country shall rise supreme. GI With this, he turned and bowed to his princess and was about to shower golden coins upon the populace when he heard a door slam in the school. Inf stantly, the spell was shattered in a thousand tiny pieces, and the princely retinues and their master became again the wooden gym horses and the exercise bars. Where, only seconds before a golden palace, framed by bending palm trees, had been standing, an empty stage ornamented by two potted rubf ber plants now existed. The musty smells closed in about them and blotted the lavish beauty of their one time kingdom forever from this scene. Rudely, Carl pulled up his princess , so easily deposed by one slam ofa door. Cf Come on, 'Sis'. Mom said Mr. Rice told her she'd get Bred if he found us messing around here after she'd cleaned. Well, we can play somewheres else. Cf They made their exit just as the first people shuffled into the auditorium and as they reached the safety of the darkened playground, the notes of janet's practice version of her solo, played rather badly off key, came to their ears. But, by now, they were riding a magic carpet deep into the night and the world of dreams and her shrill tones came as a sad lament from the Indian prince, mourning a lost King and Queen. l f f M Lila Gantt N 'pp A0 12th Grade of- 0,f 4 T ffm My +1 X' gg, .rv 'ff uf ,M lk M' Q J J page 70

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IMI I IL Z? fi 1' C7 IV li the foresail reefed, but still the helpless vessel was rocked uncontrollably by wind and rain. The captain shouted incoherent orders to his men, deafened by the roar of the wind and the beat of the rain. flf After neverfending hours of frustrated attempts to keep the ship empty of water interspersed with hopeless prayers for deliverance from the storm, a final thunderous crash brought the foremast violently down upon the end of the bowsprit, severing it with its carved maiden from the doomed ship. Pk Pk ik GIA small boy, accompanied by his aged grandfather, is walking along the rugged shore of the tiny island of Bornholm in the southern end of the Baltic Sea. Suddenly the child stoops down, and, with a pleased cry, points to a piece of wood floating on the rippling waters a few feet out to sea. He quickly wades out and tows in his find, a tiny carved maiden whose sleek black hair, ankleflength dress, loose scarf, and faded kerchief caused the old man to gaze in melancholy surprise. He then speaks to his grandson in a low, farfaway tone: Your little figurine reminds me of another one so very like it I am tempted to believe it is the original. GK I'In my youth I used to watch the ships going in and out of the harbor and my favorite one was the Matilda, a twofmasted schooner. I remember to this day the heartbreak I experienced when the Matilda set sail one day and never returned. It was the day of the great storm when so many ships went under these very waters never to be seen again by human eyes . . . Yes-this little maiden looks very much like the Matilda's figurehead . . . I wonder . . . Ellen Tangeman 9th Grade LIGHT AND SHADOW if The small stuffy room which served doubly as a gymnasium and an audi' torium was in readiness for the evening's auspicious event. Filled with the mingled odors of rubber gym shoes and the red linament which is such comfort to aspiring young athletes who attempt to master the horizontal bars, it seemed very much more like a gym than a fitting hall to receive the great efforts of artistically inclined students. Although it was especially decorated with two rubber plants placed on each side of the narrow stage, the tumbling mats, exercise bars, and wooden horses which had been pushed back in the far corners, still dominated the scene. In the center sections, row upon row of wooden chairs, looking stubbornly and uncompromising upon the meagre wants of the human body, ranged back from the stage. These same chairs would soon hold the mothers and fathers, eager to marvel at their own child' ren's precocious abilities, and the little brothers and sisters, who were as yet too young to appreciate the excelling beauty of Willy's boy soprano voice or the tone artistry in Janet's rendition on the clarinet of Glow, Little Glow Worm, Glimmer, Glimmerf' GC But Elsie and Carl saw it, as they stood at the back of the room, as a miracuf lous enchanted land, Hlled with the Oriental splendor of a page from the Arabian Nights. The mingled odors came as heady perfumes to dull their senses and the stage with its potted rubber plants acquired all of the mystic beauty of an Indian prince's luxurious palace. Even the exercise bars and the page 69

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Ad' I L, IZ fi 7' CD IV 1? SOMEDAY fflf someday you are out on a sunny afternoon with nothing much to do, and if you should happen to walk down a shady lane off of Paradise Road, and stop at a large iron gate, I wouldn't blame you a bit if you were puzzled by that massive thing. What can be so very important to be guarded by such an impressive bit of iron? you ask yourself. Well, why not stop and ask someone? I'11 be glad to tell you all I can, in fact, I might even take you in when I go to see the new young master of the house. He's very young, only five, but I have great faith in him. If There, the gate's opening for us, you're surprised that it opens by itself? You see, it knows. No, don't ask me what it knows, maybe I can tell you later. Come, walk down the drive with me. Quiet, isn't it? Even the birds have stopped singing today. I think they know too. Here we are at the house. It's often been called the most beautiful home in this part of the country. Would you like to come in? I'm sure they wonit mind. I'll show you around-no, of course you won't be intruding, they wonit even notice us. Now right through here is-hello-look who's coming down the stairs. That's the new young master. He doesn't know. It's so hard to tell young people those things. Shall we follow him? He seems rather lost in his own house. Poor little fellow, all alone, he feels lonely and is puzzled by this sudden inattention. He wanders from one room to another, now sitting in a favorite chair, now gazing at a masterpiece hanging on the wall. As he thumbs through the family album it seems as if he has an idea. Let's follow, I think he's going to the music roomg yes, he is, but be quiet. He's sitting down at the piano and fingers the keysg see him smile as though the soft silvery notes tickle him. Now he runs up and down the board with his thumb and pauses as he gets to the bottom, the sound disturbs him. He brings his little list down on a low chord and a pleasing roar results. Lovely! A vision of pirates and beautiful maidens, like his mummy, appears before him and he strikes the chord again. That vanishes and in its place he becomes the great god of the storms. Now he pounds on the keys and at his command great thunder roars forth-wonderful. A little furrow appears on his forehead as he realizes his great responsibility, He must prove his strength and master' ship-he will show them. He pounds on the keys and down flashes the lightning and thunder. More and more, louder and louder. Then he stops to listen with an expression of expectant delight on his face. Wait, the little fellow stirs on the stool and a look of fear comes instead, as he hears the booming echo through and through the halls and passages. Timidly he places an outstretched hand on a low chord and presses gently, no sound, just the dying echoes of his passing storm. Then he becomes determined and strikes the keys as if to drive away all fear. He listens and the roaring echoes join each other and engulf the house in a loud crash. You have closed your eyes and gritted your teeth against the noise, and as you open them again you see the little boy sobbing in terror of the monster he has created and can no longer controlepoor lad with his head buried in his arms crying so helplessly with no one to hear. But wait, someone's coming in-stand back behind this curtain. Ah-it's his Mother. Listen. GI g'Nicky, darling, what's wrong, why are you crying? Do you know? Yes, I believe you do. page 71