Trivoli Community High School - Memoir Yearbook (Trivoli, IL)

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------ --aa ---------- - The Star Spangled Banner, and of Sherman, and I chant Glory to His Name. Again I See Just as the Sun Goes Down, a Shy Little Maid who cries Oh Yankee Doodle Boy, My Heart's in the Highlands Where the Silvery Colorado Wends It's Way, and I'm Afraid tofGo Home in the Dark. I glance into her Goo Goo Eyes and ask, Won't You Let Me Take You Home to your home in Teepee Land? Swiftly we make the 'Trip to Niagara and there's Music in the Air,' as we near her Home, Sweet Home. A squaw called Rainbow Opens the Door for the Children and cries Where Did You Get That Girl? I answered Where I Left The Boys in Blue with the Last Rose of Summer. Blue Beads sleeps 'AE-eneath the Weeping Wil- low in Six Feet of Earth and I think of School Days and wend to Sunny Tennessee, but Tramp, Tramp comes the postman and On This Letter From Home, Sweet Home brings A Flower from My Angel Mother's Grave. My heart sinks as the Titanic and my hand shakes as I write 1'll Leave Dixie, Darling, In the Springtime I'll Be With You Maggie, Dear. If I Only had a Home, Sweet Home in f'America with you, for You're Just Like the Girl That Married Dear Old Dad. Fd Love to Live in Loveland With a Girl Like You. Remember, Daisies Won't Tell. And now I ponder o'er the time When You and I Were Young, Maggie, as we stepped to the music of Orange Blossoms , yet I'm happy with Just a Little Rocking Chair and You. And while in this reverie I seem to hear a Still Small Voice floating o'er the Ocean Wave, saying, Hreaee, Be Still, and I answered from within Tell Mother I'll Be There. , V. P H.. Class '24. The Queen of the Artists Marquis sat with his head on the little table by his side. He had been trying to paint a picture of the Ideal American, to get money which would help support his twelve-year-old daughter, Joan, Grow- ing tired of his task, he had fallen asleep, dreaming of a beautiful home, his daughter and her education. Suddenly a quiet, soft voice awoke him by whispering softly in his ear, It is wonderful, father, eet ez won- derfulf' Marquis raised his tired, worn and haggard face toward heaven and then his eyes fell on his beautiful daughter's face. Her eyes were like black pools, her complexion was as clear as a crystal, and her cheeks looked like half blown roses. Around her shapely head soft, iiuffy brown curls coiled like serpents around the innocent. His eyes Page Forty-six

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quick! You kin never tell about these contraptions 'cause they're just like women and change their minds every ten minutes. With a jerk and a roar the car leaped into the street and amid the deafening cheers of the entire student body, sped down the avenue. On and on, out of the city and into the open country sped that mass of tin and bolts with a wild-eyed, red headed boy at the wheel, and a smiling young lady clinging with all her strength to the seat. Up hill, down hill, and ever faster sped the car. Faster, faster, and still faster it sped. Red's hat blew off his head and Grace's hair blew back like a floating train. Suddenly rounding a turn at the bottom of a hill, a sign appeared close at hand which read, Road Closed-Detourf' Unable to stop, Red sped on. The girl screamed and in her terror grasped Red tightly around the waist. Red's hair stood on end as he finally pressed on the brakes with all his might. But all was in vain. The car crashed through and fell into the eddying stream below. Red, with the girl strangely enough, still clinging to him, was hurled into the air. Then down, down, till suddenly came a long rip, followed by a sudden stop. Red opened his eyes to find Grace still clinging to him, but swinging in mid-air above the abyss, held only by the stout rope around his waist which had caught on the projected beam of the demolished railing. They were quickly removed from their precarious position by a group of nearby road laborers. And again safely on their feet and terra firma, they found that they were none the worse for their joy-ride. The very first thing Red did after the rescue, was to search frantically until he unearthed a huge bridge spike with which he closed as best he could the long rent in the right leg of his precious long trousers. C. A., '24, A Story in Song AS I sit in Meditation 'tIn the Evening by the Moonlight, I Seem to Hear the Bugle Calling from Dreamland, and The Silver Threads Are Shining Among the Gold. Memories prove a blessing and again I kiss My Darling Just as the Stars Are Shining Down by the Old Mill Stream, and she whispered softly, God Be With You Till We Meet Again. Can a Boy Forget His Mother? Oh, when in Dreamland, I think of the Old Folks at Home, and see The Little Brown Church in the Vale g I am Near My Home,', but awake Just as the Sun is Peep- ing O'er the Hillu to find myself in t'Dixie, and 'tIt's a Long, Long Way to Tipperary. I seem to hear the strains of Onward Christian Sol- diers as I think of VVhen We Were Marching Through Georgia under Page Forty-five

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. -------- Hive ------- took in the form of her body from the top of her shiny head to the tip of her toes. Yes, she was beautiful. Oh, God! how could he give her up. It could not be lf' Father, said the quiet voice, a brother of Blue Ridge wants ye. Marquis arose and went with his daughter to the home of the artists. Blue Ridge was a small settlement in Auden, France, where only artists lived. Located in sort of a valley, surrounded by mountains, clothed with green, fields, it shone forth as one of the most loveliest places in the southern part of France. Joan enjoyed herself by watch- ing the artists, whom she called her brothers, paint. And in the late afternoon, when her father and she entered Blue Ridge, she cried with joy, Oh father, I feel zat if I leave this beautiful home, I should die of grief. Oh, zat eet means so much to me. Marquis went to help his fellow artist who had torn his canvas and needed help to put it up again. All the time Marquis was working, he was wondering what he should do. At last he made up his mind. There had been a rich trader from Australia there today to see his picture. He was childless and had taken a liking to Joan. Yes, he knew a way out of it. Joan, his daughter, would be saved. Father, eet es time to go. Ze sun is setting in ze west and ze Helds are getting darker with shadows. All right, my Joan, we go. Over the green fields, hand in hand, went the two silent figures. God had been good to them to let them live in such a beautiful home. At last Marquis broke the silence, 'tJoan, a trader by the name of Luzon was here today to see about my picture. He said it was no good and consequently I have no money to keep us. He liked you and as he is childless, I am going to ask him to adopt you. God knows how hard it is, but there is nothing else to do. You are ignorant of the ways of the world and you have no work here. I cannot keep you. Joan looked at her father through eyes that were blind with tears. She realized the situation, yet, she could not think of giving up the only home which she had ever known. Her mother had died when she was born, therefore she was left with her father, who having tried to bear his sorrow alone, moved into this little secluded spot, Auden. At last she mastered her emotions, and looking into the face of the one she loved so well, she answered, Oh, M'dieu, M'dieu, not zat. Oh God. not zat. I cannot leave you and my dear brothers. Eet ez impossible. Daughter, it is the way of the world. What can I do? You know I have no money. His head fell on her shoulders. By this time they had reached home and as Joan pushed open the door, she made up her mind that she would go. As her father sat on the porch smoking, she pushed the foot stool up and sat down at his Page Forty-seven