South Hills High School - Lives Yearbook (Pittsburgh, PA)

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8 THE SESAME The door bell sounded and re-echoed, bringing her to her feet. A lump rose to her throat. Suppose Big Dan had been hurt-he was in Pittsburgh on the story of the nitro plant explosion. She smoothed her hair and reassuring her- self that no doubt it was only the neighbor's boy, she crossed the room. She stepped back as she saw the erect figure of a middle-aged woman in mourning, framed in the doorway. She switched on the light, and greeted the stranger wonderingly. The woman stepped forward and explained herself as a wanderer sent by the suburban innkeeper to her home because of the crowd- ed inn. The good man had told her that she was alone, save for the baby, and might no doubt take her in. Marie thought quickly-the big doctor bill, the slowly diminishing cupboard supplies and big Dan's shabby suit. Yes, Marie told her, you may stay. I'm alone and I like company. How long will you be with me ? Marie hung the neat black hat on the back of a chair. . Ten days or so. I'm at present without a home and in need of rest, she smiled, a twinkle in her kind blue eyes. Come with me. I was mending, and mending draws one closer to the other than a formal call, yes, Mrs- ? Burns, the woman answered promptly, following her to the living room. I would like to see your baby. My baby by all means. He's getting his teeth, and they come quite hard. However, I watch him carefully. And so began the friendship between Marie and Mrs. Burns. The daily bath of Danny was disputed. Each spoiled him in her own way. His bright little smile and quicker tears brought them closer together. They were becoming at-- tached to each other. Marie felt the pain in her heart when the day of parting drew near, and Mrs. Burns hid her tears in the nape of Da,nny's damp little neck. The night before she left Marie told her story. And so, she ended, I have never seen my husband's mother. Sometimes I hate her! But she is his mother-and my little son's grandmother. Oh, it isn't fair- it isn't fair! Why should she hate me? What have I done ? Marie turned her blanched face to Mrs. Burns. Suppose, dear little mother, the other's quiet tone went on, your Danny would fall in love with a chorus girl. Would you be willing to give him to her-to see your hopes for him trampled on ? She took the tremb- ling Marie into her arms. The young mother had not seen it in just that light. Slowly she answered: I-I-don't know-if she-were good, she argued, I should not care. But suppose Big Dan's mother did not know you as I do? Suppose she thought you were only seeking the Voorhees millions. Can't you see the hurt of Big Dan's mother ? Tears were in Marie's voice: Oh, I know, Mrs. Burns. I'll try to be patient if ' i' and some day she might learn to love me. 'Tm sure she will when she sees how fine you are and the boy. Everything will be like a story, Marie. The older woman kissed her. The next day she was gone. Marie, with Danny on her arm, waved to her as she rode away. The loneliness, the emptiness for Big Dan, for kind Mrs. Burns and I rather think, for her little mother back home, grieved Marie. Several days later Big Dan arrived, and was all interest when Marie told about her guest. When the white woolly dog was brought out, Big Dan gave a surprised Gosh! and speculated as to its cost. 'Not under two, Dan-imagine! It would have bought our meat for a week-we are be- coming plutocratic, dear boy! She brushed Danny's little cheek against her own and set- tled herself for a comfy reunion. The following noon-an unheard of time for Big Dan's appearance-he came hurrying up the walk. Snatching the startled Marie in his arms, he commanded her to read the open letter in his hand. She took the letter, dazed, and read: Boston, My dear Boy and Girl: Forgive your mother, who did not under- gtgnd. I adore Marie, and think she is splen- 1 . Tell her I love her, and to accept the be- lated wedding gift that awaits her and hers with open doors in Beacon Street. Love to you and Marie and my grandson. Mother. P. S. Tell Marie your father slept with his hands crossed. Marguerite V. Bahmer, Grade 1OB. Qalealeali

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vrfw -il 1 5' 0 I 1. : I I I s 0 352, o f c 0 ' , ' X, gxh ff 'k,?K!'5fW'l1inl .t1..'351L?' nf 'We' ffgfsrmffhisg 0 4 L xl 9 . H K : I C 5 . -5 J 2' w , , 1 . 'ff . 4' l L 7 Q ,,v W ,-, ' 1 . . -x ig ', . 4 . Q Viv. wuz. rg.: l .Q K, - rl v D ,J N ' f , 3 Aff -M if tv t I i Q fl M .' '. , . ,iq 7 lf: Fl: fl? ' J ax -4 f L -'A 4 i A -' ' .. gi. .i fri LQWZ S l V lv , I av s . - v 5- , . 1 wtf ,1if.4',4i 4 Mlezrfb lg'b!1llNssaxm',3' VAVA Aww THE SUMMER GUEST At the baygpwindgow sat Marie. S The.. even- ing shadows fast enveloping her lithe young figure. In her lap was the result of two weeks' collection of mending. Her small hands flew deftly as she filled the holes in the stockings. Presently the motions of the darning needle slowed to the gentle rocking of the cradle. She paused to draw the needle from the stocking, then knelt over the little sleeping form. Her eyes shone with the great love that was hers. She breathed softly. The shadow of a smile flitted across her face as she drew the covers around the straight little should- ers of Danny. To Marie he was a kingdom in his own precious little ways-his habit of getting his right foot between the bars in his high chair, his smile that scattered dimples in his round little faceg and the dimpled hands that crossed on his hard little chest, which Marie wondered at, since neith- er she nor big Dan slept with their hands crossed. Tonight she studied him wistfully. How she thanked God for this splendid son and all the happiness that had been hers for the last three years She dropped to the floor and pressed her head against the side of the cradle, weary and very lonely. She told her- self she was the happiest woman in the world, and yet there was that something which made her bewildered, a little fright- ened. Her fore finger traced the design in the rug as she reviewed her life. Was she despised because she had been nothing more than a chorus girl? . Born away off in a remote crease of Ohio, Marie had begun life as the daughter of a Presbyterian minister. As the eldest of the children, she was looked to for help with the three small ones. The encouragement re- ceived from the choir leader led her to dream of success in a big New York church, and at the enthusiastic age of twenty and full of undying hope she left the little parsonage to niake .a fortune for the familykf g New York did not beseech the obscure little Marie to sing in a cultivated choir g rather it looked with unbelief on the girl who tried to become a spoke in the big musical Wheel. Hunger leads one to places thought of only in one's most secret thoughtsg and so Marie thankfully became a part of the big chorus in the Winter Garden show. For three years she slept in a narrow room that held the wall paper, a cot, one chair and Marie. She wore the same little thin suit all this time, received the same meagre pay and the promises of a raise. Then it chanced young Daniel Voorhees, home from Yale, vis- ited the popular Garden, discovered the soft brown eyes of Marie, and lost his heart. He met her, and was rewarded by her fluttering Yes, After one week of married life big Dan proceeded to write his mother in Monte Car- lo, and told her about the only girl. Mother wrote a firm disapproval on feather-edged paper, and the following month her lawyer informed big Dan that his allowance was canceled. Big Dan faced work. As a cub reported he began his novel ca- reer. They bought, on installment, a little cottage away out of the world's knowledge. They skimped and saved and planned. And then the baby came. Marie wondered if Dan's mother would re- fuse to see her if she saw Danny and his many wonderful charms. She breathed deep- ly. Her mouth twiched painfully. She missed Dan. She turned and slipped her arms under the hot little form that -was Danny, and buried her face in his coverlet. He wriggled and revealed a baby tongue and two teeth. Marie smiled and carefully studied his face-and wondered again where he acquired the habit of folding his hands.

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THE SESAME 9 HIGH HATU The settlement was usually known as High Hat, not through any social activities of note, but because rumor had it that the first settler on the spot was a minister who had worn such a headpiece. It appears that he had there met a stranger and due to a misunder- standing had his existence shortened some- what, The Hat being damaged by the man who had helped him to the next world, con- sidered it a fitting namepiece for a settle- ment for which he thought the wild and lonely spot ideal. The judgment. so displayed was soon rewarded by the arrival of every tramp, miner, and desperado who had made the surrounding towns fthe nearest of which was a hundred miles distantj too hot to hold him. PAnd so High Hat existed, a deserted town by day when it's populace was robbing the earth's treasures or more frequently those of stray travelers, and by night an orgy where every inhabitant crowded to the Saint's Rest saloon, tried to outcurse every other inhabitant in every language save Siamese, tried to outdrink every other inhab- itant with bad whiskey which Black Jack Jones dispensed at twenty-five cents a swig, and tried to outplay the house at roulette or stud poker. Black Jack, himself a leading and characteristic citizen, cracked jokes or men's heads as the occasion might demand, and occasionally answered a call to the gam- bling room in the center of which hung a rope providing communication with a Chinese un- dertaker whom he had engaged for all night service, and whom he frequently summoned when accidents befell gentlemen found with five aces or other undesirable evidence on their person. Now in this connection it is interesting to note that the municipality had no doctor, that the first and last doctor who had pre- sented himself there had written a prescrip- tion and since no one was able to read the inhabitants mistook it for a joke on the sick man, whereupon they cursed doctors and learning, and threatened to shoot the next medic found in the mountains thereabout. One evening there rode into this thriving retreat a quiet, unassuming young man whose somber dress of the clergy caused a sudden halt in the pleasant activities of Saints Rest the minute he saw fit to enter that worthy establishment, and when he pro- ceeded to drag an old keg from a corner of the room, mount it, and start reading slowly from a Bible which he carried the boys crowded around thinking they were going to hear something which, though they could not read, might be of immediate interest to them. Very soon, however, the novelty wore off and the rioting commenced with added vigor, but above the cursing in all its varieties could be heard the monotonous reading of the stranger, who was soon referred to in a rather unfriendly tone as the Parson Many pres- ent began to complain that their conversation was being interrupted by his gospel, and sev- eral fights started over their inability to de- cide whether lynching or just plain shooting would be the most fitting means of removing the impediment. Having decided that the for- mer would pay more reverence to his clothes a few of the more skilled assassins moved forward to perform this duty for the com- munity, when a brace of ruffians, who had reached town but three days before, in which time they had done as much deviltry as the average cut-throat i.n a week, stepped- up,-an- nouncing that the little neck-tie party was indefinitely postponed, that if the Parson wanted to read he was gonna spit it out, and any gentleman doubting this decision would be pumped so full of holes he wouldn't hold water! The verdict thus stood, espe- cially when backed by two revolvers built on the general dimensions of a canon. Boys, drawled the stranger, looking up from his Bible for the first time, 'Tm going to teach you-all two things: First, this cuss- in's gonna stop, and second every last one of you is gonna learn to write yore name. If you refuse I'm gonna read this Bible every night till you-all will be able to recite her word fer word. ' Apparently this little oration struck no vital spot among the listeners, for the pro- fanity was doubled if such a thing were pos- sible, and accordingly the parson read on. Thus several evenings passed, the Bible be- ing unfolded chapter after chapter, in a dull monotonous voice, and a pronounced dimin- ishing in hilarity making its slow but sure appearance. The reading appeared about as desirable as a cry for help, and finally things reached a stage where the Parson might stand for minutes without uttering. a word and then an unguarded curse from someone would start him on a new chapter, while a groan went up from the crowd. In this man- ner the inhabitants had learned, after sev- eral weeks, that ideas may be expressed more or less definitely without the use of some- what colorful but totally unnecessary adjec- tives, and the preacher announced one night that he was ready to proceed with the writ- ing lesson. Here it appeared that trouble would start in earnest. A stray shot removed the hat which was his pride, and although he had good reason to believe that that little piece of