Sunbury School - Owl Yearbook (Sunbury, OH)

Page 32 text:

may lliiil I T H E O W 1- relatives or friends and am now having what I fear to be my last sickness, I care little to whom my wealth is giveng only let it be known that it was obtained honestly, for I stumbled upon it while exploring a lonely island about ten years ago, and I believe it to be a portion of a pirate's hoard. I have in my possession about ten thousand dollars in gold, silver, and jewels and it is buried under a block in my cellar. The block can be lifted out of position by a sidewise pull on the iron ring that is attached to it. My hut is deep in the woods known as Giant Forest. Perhaps it will be hard to find, but don't be discouraged for the goal is worth working for. I am too feeble to write more, but may it be that this wealth will bring more happi- ness and be more useful to you than to me.-Simon La Mon. Even Mrs. Henderson could not contain her excitement. If this were true and they could find the treasure, it would mean no more economizing for the dire necessities of life. But she was silent until evening when Jimmie, now a handsome stalwart youth, could be with them to hear the circumstances. At last with the dishes cleared away the lamps lighted she read the scribbled note to the attentive twins. J immie's eyes shown like stars as he welcomed this opportunity for adventure, and J ennie's heart sang as she pictured her mother no longer a drudge, and herself Wearing pretty clothes. For what young girl doesn't like to be well dressed? Why Mother, I saw that cabin and became quite good friends with the old man while picking blackberries several years ago. I am sure I can find the place again, will you let me try ? asked Jimmie eagerly. And can I go with him ? chimed in Jennie. Why, yes, you may both go, altho it will not be very safe to enter Giant Forest with- out a guide. Don't you suppose you had better get Indian Joe to help you? He's the very one, Mother! I'm sure he'll help us. I'll run over and see him now. So saying Jimmie left the house. Arriving at the hut where the old guide lived, Jimmie quickly explained his mission. At the conclusoin Joe gave his characteristic grunt, Ugh! Me know old white man and know way to his wigwam. Me lead you and good sister to it. Me like to return good deed for good deed. When do we start? Sis and I will be here as early as possible tomorrow morning. Thanks Joe, you're a real friend. Who would not dream of great things if such an opportunity were thrown in their way? So it was with the twins, and they could hardly wait for morning to come. When the first gray streaks had begun to show in the east they were up and off to Indian J oe's hut, dressed in old clothes and carrying a day's provisions, but they were not ahead of the old hunter for he was also prepared, having whittled out three stout sticks to help them over the rough places and as they started to leave he handed Jimmie a light gun, the dupli- cate of the one he carried himself. The great woods was only two miles out of town, but strangely enough the lonely in- habitant had been known by a very few, perhaps because he depended on game and fish for his food and very rarely any one visited the Giant Forest for fear of becoming lost. But with Indian Joe as a guide the twins were safe for he had the power of guidance habitual to his tribe. Easily he found the faint trace of a foot-path that lead to the old cabin, and Jimmie and Jennie must be forgiven for not hearing the joyous song of the birds or noting so many of Nature's works as they usually did, for they were eagerly look- ing forward to getting a glimpse of the Treasure Hut. Ah, there it was! Jimmie broke into a run and had just reached the sagging door gvhen aqcall of Help! sounded down the trail. He glanced around quickly. Where was enme . What has become of Jennie, Joe? he asked excitedly. Me do not know. Me hear good sister call. We must search, so saying he retraced his steps, with Jimmie at his heels. Jennie, Jennie! he kept calling, Answer me. It's J im. Faintly a voice floaetd down the path to them, Here I am in this old well, just down the path a little farther. I stumbled when I started to run. When they came upon her, she was standing upright in a cavity about seven feet deep. In answer to their anxious inquiries she denied that she was hurtg and so they as- sisted her out by the aid of their sticks and progressed to the hut, this time without mishap. It was a ram-shackle old place and the musty odor was repugnant. But they kept on and entered the cellar. Piles of dried herbs which had been placed there apparently by de- sign were lying here and there and a few pieces of rickety home-made furniture were placed helter-skelter. Eagerly all these were pushed aside as they hunted for the block. But strain their eyes as they would, they could see nothing of the tell-tale iron ring. Suddenly Jennie stumbled and fell heavily to the floor and as Jimmie ran to assist her, he shouted, Look Jennie! Look Joe! We have found the treasure! Jennie has caught her foot on the camoufiaged iron ring and in doing so has uncovered the treasure. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! echoed Jennie, now we Hendersons and Indian Joe will live just as in story books, 'happy ever after! MARIE WILLIAMS, '24

Page 31 text:

T H E O W 1. ,Wil :wmv-nine Oh, Mother, there's a lot of people coming down the street and they are carrying some one on a cot. Who do you suppose it is ? As Mrs. Henderson glanced out of the window she noticed that the men were looking in the direction of her house anxiously but thinking nothing of it she resumed her work. Suddenly Jennie cried, Mother! Mother! It's our Daddy and he is so white ! Mrs. Henderson grasped the back of a chair for support. Yes, the men were stopping at the gate and there was no need questioning to whom that pallid face belonged. Stumbling she groped her way to the door with the chil- dren following her, crying hysterically. But before answering the hesitating knock she turned to the children and said in a voice that she struggled to keep calm, Listen children, remember if something has happened to Daddy, you are Mother's little helpers. Almost instantly they dried their tears and by this assurance of their aid she regained her composure somewhat, then opened the door. It seemed that host of weeping women and grave-faced men swarmed around that still form. The one, who seemed to be the spokesman, stepped forward a trifile and coughed twice before he said stammeringly, I'm very sorry to have to tell you but-but there-there's something happened. It's his heart, and-and- Go on, she whispered hoarsely. He's dead, ma'am. Oh, what grief and trouble those words have the power to bring about! To Mrs. Henderson they brought the commencement of many years of strug- gle for the livelihood of herself and children. Poverty had not been so hard to bear when the two had borne it together, but she could not as yet trouble the merry hearts of the children with her worries. But young as they were they realized why her eyes were troubled and her face so often careworn, and they strove to make her life a little happier each day. They longed for an educa- tion and by working in the summers and on holidays, the twins were able to go regularly to the village school. Now we shall turn over the chapters of the lives of the three till seven years from the day of the unexpected death of Mr. Henderson. The quilt that he had bought just an hour before his death, had been brought in unnoticed by a neighbor and was kept by the Widow as something sacred. It was by no means beautiful, but at the sight of it on this day, Mrs. Henderson's eyes filled with tears. She was replacing it gently in the box when a young girl of seventeen entered the room and crossed to where her mother was standing. She laid her arm across the silent woman's shoulders and touched the quilt reverently and as she did so a sharp rustle of paper at- tracted her attention. They looked at each other wonderingly. RWhy, Mother, there is a paper inside! What do you suppose it is? And look! The quilt seems to have been slit and loosely sewed up. Oh, let's investigate! Now Jennie you mustn't expect to find a package of love letters or anything so romantic, smiled her mother teasingly, But to satisfy our curiosity I suppose we shall have to look. Get the scissors, dear. H Very much excited Jennie started to reopen the slit in the quilt. She hoped it would contain something that would lead to an adventure! Or if it was money, both she and Jim- mie could graduate at the same time, she hoped it would be so, for Jimmie had generously given up the thought of graduating at the same time as his sister, knowing that they could not afford it. So, eagerly she ulled out the envelope that was within and tore it open. Then she gave a little cry of dlisappointment, Oh, Mother, it is nothing but some kind of an old map. Oh why couldn't it have been something worth while ? Perhaps it is, dear, let me see it, and carefully scanning the paper Mrs. Henderson saw on the reverse side these closely written words. To the Receiver:-I am bequeathing all my wealth in this crude manner to the one who buys this quilt. May it be that one who is needy will receive it. As I have no living

Page 33 text:

T H E O W L AW-ii M thirty-one IN SUGAR The poets Write of Sunny France Where life is gay and free, We sing the songs of Michigan And Sunny Tennessee, But take me back to boy-hood days When all happiness was mine, The days I spent with my old Dad In Sugar-making time. MAKING TIME When old King Winter has had his sway And we feel the south wind blow And thewarm sunshine thaws out the earth And the sap begins to How, 'Tis then fond memories come back to me And for those days I pine, The days we spent in our old camp In sugar-making time. The memory of the little tasks That Dad told us to do, Just fills my soul with longings And thrills me thru and thrug The buckets first were scalded out Then placed beside the trees, And all the time the dear old camp Just ringing with our glees. And then we laid the old arch up And took our brace and bit And started out to tap the trees, And nearly had a fit To see the sap come spurting out, Oh: say but it was fine To see that sap just run a stream In sugar-making time. Then well do I remember, When the sap was gathered in, How we filled the pans and built the fires And worked with lots of vim. Nor did we mind the smoke and steam Which made us cry and cough, For joy was ours when Dad said, Boys, Its time to syrup off. Twas then we'd use our wooden spoons To sample it you know, And then we'd take the syrup sweet And to the house we'd go, Then mother dear with skill and vim, That no one ere surpasses, Would clarify it on the stove And we would have molasses. Then we'd ask Ma to sugar off, Which she'd always let us do And besides she'd make us taffy, And we'd be sweetness thru and thrug The doctor then would make a call, But we would lay supine, Just thinking of the fun we'd had In sugar-making time. But all these things have passed away. Our Dad, the camp, and all, And nothing but the memories, Which we often now recall, Come flocking back to cheer us And fill your soul and mine With the happy days we spent with Dad In sugar-making time. J. R. Neilson