Townsend Harris High School - Crimson Gold Yearbook (Flushing, NY)

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way his eyes sparkled and jumped, and the way he shook, I knew that he meant it. Here's a stone I thought might interest you. I brought forth my find. He took the stone ,placed it on the table, took up l1is hammer, and without a word of thanks began pounding methodically on its surface. The picture is one that will stay in my mind's eye for a long time. The candle flick- ering near the window, and Pat pounding his stones. There was a fierceness in his face that made me think of a witch grinding magic herbs into a kettle while whispering magic words. I was filled with dread and turned to go. He seemed to sense my feelings. '6Good night, laddie,,' he croaked. Thank ye fer yer present? To hear his cracked voice was all that I needed to give power to my momentarily paralyzed limbs. I fled as swiftly as possible, but not swiftly enough to escape hearing the tapping begin again and a voice cackling and rumbling. Try as I might, I could not get out of my mind the vision of the old fellow searching for stones and trying their strength. I prom- ised myself that I should not return to the cemetery. Nevertheless, my intention, like most good ones, was never fulfilled. On the next day, as I was wandering through a small tract of land which I had recently acquired, I heard someone moving through the field. He stopped quite often, then stumbled on. It seemed as though he were trying to catch something nearby, which moved away each time he got to it. I ap- proached the spot where he was. I saw him stoop over something and strike it. I heard a click as the instrument in his hand struck a stone. I knew that it was Pat. Hallo therein I cried. He turned towards me. Good Lord, man! I exclaimed, hurrying forward. '6W'hat's wrong ?', Pat's face was more wrinkled than ever. Tears were rolling like small twisting rivers, down his face. He moaned painfully. HI cant find it, laddie, he wailed. I can't find 'un like it. Find me another, laddie, don't let me go uncoveredf' Then I saw in his hand the stone that I had given him. He was trying to match it. He was looking for a larger one like it. The situation was not a pleasant one . The old fellow rested his hand on my shoulder and sobbed like a child. page sixty-seven

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I heard ye, laddie, he snapped. I bein't deaf-yitf, Then he pointed to the tomb. g'Thet,s the stone I wants. No! Not thet very one, as he saw my features change, one like it. I want somethin, as'll last. 6'WeH, I returned, Hthat ought to be easy enough to get. Yah! but it ain't. This y'ere granite 'n marble, they rot, jes, like me 'n you. Ha! don't git narvous, ye can t escape it. Ye know it's true, donit ye, lad? He saw that I was becoming uneasy. His face lit up in a wickedly triumphant way. Ye'll be jes' like that . . . He picked up some dirt and threw it at my boot. He gazed in silence at the smudge. I hastily withdrew my foot and stood looking at him, not with- out some horror and fright on my counte- nance, I will warrant. Suddenly he turned on his heel and walked swiftly toward his shed. It was dark and his figure faded rapidly into the gloom. Not lik- ing the thought of being alone, I hurried through the gate and began walking towards home. As I passed the gate I tripped over some- thing embedded in the path. I got up and, on looking carefully, I saw that it was a stone. Not knowing why, I picked up a rock and dashed it with all my strength upon the other. The missile split and pieces flew in all directions. The stone in the path received a slight scratch upon its surface. I looked at the stone that I had tripped on. Then I remembered the old man's words. '4Somethin' as 'll last,', he had said. I bent down and pulled up the stone. Vengeance upon it may have been my motive, for if it had not tripped me I should have been well away from the cemetery and maybe I should have forgotten Pat's thoughts. I wished to. When I reached his shed, I saw Pat bend- ing over several objects on his table. I could hear repeated tapping. Mutterings and sighs were intermingled with the metallic clicking of something on stone. Then I understood. I-Ie was pounding some stones he had with him, with a hammer. He was trying to find out which would last the longest. The situation would have been a funny one had I not known how serious the old man was. I went to the door and knocked. The tapping within continued. I knocked again, louder. The door opened. g6What d' yer want, lad ? growled Pat. How did you . . . ', I burst out. I seed yer, lad. Pat actually laughed. His cackle sounded stage-like, but from the page sixty-six

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I took him by the arm and led him to my house. He moaned and sobbed at every step he took. When we reached the porch I gave him a chair to rest in. We both sat there, looking at our feet, sighing and muttering. Then Pat looked at me. Did yer niver think of it, lad,' he said, jist nothini. ,list like the air. Niver seen, not even felt. I was becoming annoyed with him. When- ever we met he sobbed and talked about his stone and what death was like. Look here, I retorted, not without feel- ing like a brute for scolding an old man like him, Hhave you never seen anything pleasant about life? Have you never enjoyed any- thing? You must have seen beautiful sights, heard lovely music, and had fun in your life. Why is it that whenever we meet, you carry on so'?,' The poor fellow was taken aback by my hot, impatient questioning. He stared at me in astonishment. He shook his head. Ah, lad,,' he muttered, I had a son, once, as fine a boy as iver ye set eyes on. He was a shepherd. He was all I had. ,list him an' me lived together in a little cottage. We had good times together, we did. We walked all over the country 'round there and we knew every bit of it .... Once a little lambkin was missin'. My boy went out to fetch it inf' Pat was in tears. He looked dejected and sad. He brought it in, Pat went on. He showed me a scratch he had on his arm. 'Jist a scratch, dad,' he said, 'it's nothin'. A point of stone caught me., He wouldn' even let me put nothin, on. I lost im. Blood poisonin' set inf, The old manis face twitched violently. Pvc been alone since he was took away, laddie, jist like ye see me. Then I realized why he had treated me as well as he had, and why he called me glad- diei' all the time. 6'Ye know, he continued, Pvc seen mighty fine folks tucked away. Rich ones, too. All the gaudy moniments is rottini. Ye can't even tell what they say. Take thet big 'un in the middle, laddie. He was a doctor, thet iun. He was rich, too. Now what is he? He ain't playing no harp, neither. Bah! I seen 'em all, laddie, an, you'll see me. I'm servin' the strongest master-there ain't nothin, stronger than him, laddie, nothinif' Why didn't you serve the church ? I asked. page sixty-eight