Shields High School - Patriot Yearbook (Seymour, IN)

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fo pircte F HELEN BARNES AIR, HAUNTING, baffling, nymph you trifling spirit. Desired by all y ou deign to love a few, From far I hear your voice, I strain to hear it ; But still again you leave me seeking you. To some you bring of thoughts a golden store. Fair stifling these with lavish overflow; To me you bring desire and nothing more. Except perhaps a whisper sweet and low. That spurs me on to greater efforts. Then you dart away with mocking swiftness Mayhap to try your tricks on other men, I pray, be kind to them in their bereftness ! Ah well ! your shyness breeds appreciation In hearts of men, you Goddess Inspiration ! [Page Eighteen

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Nay. Once he shows pity for someone or something, he loses his power and his command. Grandmother, said Boris thoughtfully, they teU me I am fair of face, and thou as well as I, know that I am strong of limb. Aye, and thou art so old and decrepit that thou need ' st the support of others. Think you, grand- mother, that if we set the house on fire, if I killed myself, with a deep red sear down my breast, and if thou stood ' st wailing over me, that we could move him to pity. Aye, and any human would, but he has the devil in him. And I love thee so, I could not bear to lose thee, though all Russia were at stake. ' ' But, grandmother, Russia is at stake, and you and I can easily save her. And, thou art so old, and near the end of thy days, that it would be an easy matter for thee to kill thyself afterwards. Even if he should not pity, we would be rid of a father who beats us and a master who starves us. If thou will ' st not, I will. ' ' 0! Boris, child of my child, thou art more to me than life itself, my only joy, for if thou should ' st perish, then would the light of my life be indeed gone. So, if thou will ' st do it, I will be with thee, ' ' slowly answered the old woman, with tears rolling down her withered cheeks, for, although a serf, she had many beautiful memories. Before dawn the next morning, great crowds of people pressed past the humble dwelling of Ivan Ivanoviteh. Many called to him that the dreaded Corsican was coming. So Ivan and Marinka joined the throng, thinking that Boris and the grandmother had merely been pushed aside by the crowd, and would later join them in Firnsky, the fortified town for which they were bound. At about noon, only a few stragglers remained on the road, bearing with them, all the portable effects of their homes. About dusk, the figures of soldiers could be dimly discerned through the gathering twilight. Accordingly Boris snatched a brand from the fire and held it to the flimsy wooden walls of the house. Then, as the far-famed white horse of the Emperor came into view, he opened his blouse, gave a long slash at his heart, and fell fainting, yes dying at the feet of his grandmother. The famous Napoleon now rode into plain view. He looked in astonish- ment at the not unfamiliar spectacle of a burning house, biit his ej es moist- ened as he beheld in front of the glazing shack, a fair boy with a deep red gash down his breast, and an old woman loudly lamenting. I pity thee ' woman, came from the lips of Napoleon, as he rode slowly past. The boy gave one triumphant sigh, and was dead, dying hap- pily, for he had saved Russia. Page Seventeen]

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pxjo Bettys Tmry 1 1 MARGARET McCORD HAVE ALWAYS spent my summer at a girl ' s camp in Maine, and I ' d like to know how a girl could have romantic experiences when the only man we ever saw was Old Jerry, who rowed over to camp twice a week with supplies and the mail. He is cross-eyed and half-witted besides. Other years it didn ' t matter. But when I got back to school last fall, all was different. The girls unpacked at once, bringing out numerous pictures of men and telling the most interesting things that had happened during the summer. I began to think that something was lacking in my vacation. That hateful Laura Maples had at least six large sized pictures and the most exciting experiences of all the girls. I tried to steer the conversation back into old channels of swimming and basketball, but I wasn ' t successful; so for three days I kept quiet while the other girls talked. Then, led on by the cat, Laura, they began to question me. Hadn ' t I anything to tell them? I evaded their inquiries for a while, but soon they began to nod to each other and whisper. I knew I must speak or lose my place as leader to Laura, who had always been jealous of me. So I spoke. I was on pretty shaky ground and I knew it, so I used Dick Gordon ' s name to banish all shadow of doubt. Dick is the Yale football hero, whom we admired — all last year, although we had never seen him. Louise Ferguson ' s cousin, who also was at Yale, used to write to her all about him and she always read us the letters. Now I ought to have known better than aim so high — but I knew it would bowl them over — and bowl them over it did. They fairly gasped at me, green with envy. From that time, if Laura would begin to brag — I immediately silenced her by casually mentioning where Dick and I did this or that. Page Nineteen]