Summit School - Flame Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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FLAME BOARD 1 tznz nothing if not L'l'fZl'C'LI!.U LUCY IACKSON, Editor-in-Clzfcf Lftcrtzry Editorx, Firxt Sfmefter IDEBORAH BUTLER NANCY NEIBI1iX'llR MARCIA RUSSELL ELIZABETH SLADE MOLLY TEASDALE PHYLLIS STORBERG ILLICENT THOMPSON P1-TYLIS FITZPATRICK IXNN H.fXRbION Literary Editors, Second Sczncflfr DEBORAH BUTLER LESSER STOLTZE IOAN STORBIZRG ELEANOR BRATNOBILR IVIOLLY 'TILASDALE HELEN I'IARTFIliL PEGGY I-IAMM ILNNIFIER STATS ,ANN I'IARINION NIOLLY TEASDALE, Art Editor IOAN STORBERG, Snapshot Editor FRANCES HOLMES, Business Manager MARGARET SPICER, Faculty Ad'zf1'sc'r BETTY LOU IONES, Faculty Art Adviser THE FLAME

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as FORM I NICKY BENZ IUDITH BLAKE CYNTHIA BRACRETT NAXCY BRIZCKENRIDGE CARLA BRYCE CAROL DANlEl.S NIARY DOSDALL LAIKRA FLOAN KIRKIE Fosns QEAIL VICTOR SALLY KAT2 ANN LUYTEN CAROLINI5 MYEIQS fIlikTRUDE PEILT BETSY RAINISEY SI7sAN READ SANDRA SCIIAUII KAY STODDARD RUTH STOMS THE FLAME A

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' 1121 HARVEY'S SKATING RINK HE familiar neighborhood had been presented with a coat of ermine whiteness, and the snow still tumbled down like a heavy cascade of soap chips. In the vacant lot across the street I could see two dark figures, barely visible through the mist of swirling snowflakes, but I knew that the figures were those of Harvey Anderson and his dog. Harvey was somewhat older than most of the kids in the block, and he didn't have any friends except his dog. As the neighborhood boys would say, tapping their heads significantly, 'KHarvey's cm-zyf' I don't suppose he was really crazy. He just didnlt do things the way most people did. In the summertime Harvey kept a tulip bed for his crippled mother, and he used to sit in the garden for hours, just talking with her. Once he made a lemonade stand in front of his house, but Rex Markham came and put salt in the lemonade. Harvey's dog was an old black chow named Paul. His eyes were dim and half blind, and one of his legs was withered and useless. He was shunned by the other dogs in the vicinity-just another outcast and well suited to his master. The snowflakes swirled in front of my eyes. I waded through the deep white drifts and crossed over to the vacant lot. Harvey was busily shoveling the snow off the ground, although it almost seemed as if it fell as fast as he shoveled. 'AWhat're ya doing?,' I demanded somewhat scornfully. Harvey stared at me out of small, deep set eyes, and then he said slowly, 'KI am making a skating rinkf, His voice was a hoarse, half whisper as if speaking the words hurt his throat. What for?,' He pushed a profusion of black hair from his forehead and leaned against the shovel to think it over. As he stood there, I noticed the safety pins on his overcoat where the buttons were missing. VVhat for?'7 he replied presently. Why, so's I can learn to skate, of course! Huhl You'll never learn to skate! You're too .... 5' YVithout finishing the sentence I turned my back on him and trundled off to join a group of my little play- mates. Harvey picked up the shovel and renewed his work. Every day Harvey labored on his skating rink. First, he cleared away all the snow within a certain area, and then he built a wall of packed ice around his clearing. Sometimes Mrs. Anderson would watch him from the window, and sometimes the boys THE FLAME 27