Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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THE W. II. 8. DEI5ATKR PAdE TWENTY-ONE THE REGION OF THG D6A0 EXCHANG6S In tlie land of rU-ath and darkness, In the land wliencf life lia. ' sped, I found myself awalkina ' ' Mid the relies of the dead. There I saw a ah )stly flaiii ' e. Whence the llvins ' sonl had fled, Who sat a weepinii, vveepin i:, ' Mid the caniplires of the dead. I tonehed him on the slionlder, . ' nd he turned to me and said : Oh. thus they pass forever, The living and the dead. The left, an endless, liviny band, Hollow-eyed, thin, and ifannt; Women and children staiiirer on In an endless woe of want. They march along, so weary paced. My heart is torn with dreail; For ever their himifry cry goes up, ' Give US, oh, give ns bread ' . On my right, the ghostly soldiers pass, With deep, dead muffled roar; I can hear the click of their dry canteeu And guns that will ne ' er roar more. Endless, endless, endless, they seem. As in death thev plod along; And ever the ghosts of (h ' ums beat out, O h w ro n g I w ro n g 1 w ro n g ' . Tiie living wail their ceaseless cry, ' Give ns, oh givens bread, ' lint tlie dead i)ass on with ' Ask not us, We ' re the Legion of the Dead. ' Husbands, fathers, sons, thev are Of those women who cry for bread: Bnt they pass them by ith silent stare. This lone Legion of the Dead, Tlieir laliors o ' er, their duties done, Tlieir tongues dead dried in dust. Througii eternity they mai ' ch away, Then ' rifles crumbling in rust For still WAV calls his fearful cry. And nations answer back, ' Do with us, Dread One, as you will. Though of bread there be a lack ' . So forever, shall men die gory, Their children of hunger die, While the flow ' r of manhood for glory Shall answer the seltl.sh cry. And War shall mock civilization. With jeers at the cry for bread. As lie stoops and siuifts the candles Of the Legion of the Dead. . nd I am doomed to watch them. Hearing terrible, living cries. And the steady tramp of the heroes. Who die thougli not knowing why. I fonnd myself awalking. Afar from the land of dread ; But my ears were ringing, ringing, Witii that wretched cry for hread WE acknowledgfe with thauk.s the receipt of the following ' : i0 The Eltruriau, Haverhill, Mass. ' The SauborD Echo, Kingston, N. H. ' The Omnibus, Franklin, Penn. The Blaze, The Huntington School, Boston, Mass. The Authentic, Stoneham, Mass. The School Life, Melrose, Mass. ' The Curiosity Shop, Texarkansas, Texas. The Clarion, Everett, Mass. Orange Peals, Orange, Mass. The Item, Dorchester, Mass. The Tripod, Thornton Academy, Saco, Me. The Blue and White, Westbrook, Me. ' The Voice of L. H. S., P ' almouth, Mass. The Oriole, Bushwick Higli School, Brooklyn, N.V. Teck News, Worcester Polytechnic Institute, Wor- cester, Mass. The Uailroad Employee, Newark, N. J. ' Reflector, (xloucester, Mass. Oracle, Bangor, Me. The Station Agent. The Eltrurian has been unusually good this year. Some of the poems, especially Peace on Earth and ' (irapes of Tautalus have real merit. The School Life has a very good exchange column. The department under Man Sagt is interesting. The Oriole must have a line staff artist. We find the editorials very good. The Clarion, Everett, Mass., is a very lively weekly. The Blaze, Huntington School, Boston. A fine, all around pajier, printed on good paper, containing fine cuts, and an interesting technical department. The Curiosity Sho)), Texarkansas, Tex. A fine ex- change column. We wish you success with your new paper. ' The Tripod, Saco, Me., has some good stories, but would not a few cuts be interesting? When rank stops yon from baseball, . n l atrip yon sometimes miss, i ' ou ' tl like to swat the gny who said, That Ignorance is bliss. KiX(;sTOX. ' 15 Fellows and girls are we In every degree. Few of ns short Ten of ns not Every (jne happy Every one gay. Now is the time for graduation day. M. G. K., ln

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rA(;E TWKNTV THE W. H. S. DE15ATP:K A New UeRSION OF V10TH6R GOOse OILl) IMother Goose wore a discontented look, I while her voice sounded frightened, as she spoke to Mother IIuV)bard : Good morning. Mother Hubbard , she said, I ' ve come to talk very seriously with you. Mother Hubbard noticed how discontented Mother Goose looked and invited her iuto the private office. ' Has the old world been complaining to you? ques- tioned Mother Hubbard. That is the trouble, admitted Mother Goose. Well, said Mother Hubbard, l will call in my talented servant to help us. Here, Towser, she called. In an instant a loud Bow Wow was heard and in walked Mother Hubbard ' s delight, the dog that could sing, dance, play, and write. The dog began at once to talk. I have heard, he said, that the world is not pleased with your rhymes. Mother Goose. That is the truth, and the world wants them re- vised, she answered. Nice, very nice, said the dog. l will call all the rhyme people to revise them right away. To help the cause along, said Mother Hubbard, l will begin my new rhyme now : Mother Hu))bard, my children, as you hav e heard tell, Decided one day her poor dog was ill. 80 she gave him some cake and played him a tune. And within a week he was visiting the moon. Very unsensible, but it might be worse, said Mother Goose. The little red hen was the lirst one called to change her rhyme. I ' m so tired of life, washing dishes and sweeping, she said ; if I could make a new rhyme, 1 would say : Take things easy, this is the life That will make you hapi)y without any strife. Three little kittens and their motiier came next. Mrs. Cat had a complaint to make. Must I always be scolding my kittens for losing their mittens she asked. if I had to write something that little children would always want to read, I would revise my rhyme in this fashion : I ' m a good mother cat with kittens three, I ' m as good to them as they are to me. Still many of Mother Goose ' s favorites liadn ' t spoken. These Mother Hubbard arranged in a line. Then she gave a pencil and jiajier to Mother (iloose on which to write the lines as they were recited. Little Miss Muffet quietly sat on a tuffet, at the head of the line. She smiled sweetly at Mother Goose and began to recite : Little Miss Muffet (it seems a bit queer) Says spiders and bugs are to her very dear. The old woman that lived in a shoe stood behind Miss Muffet. ' Excuse me for hurrying you, but chil- dren can ' t be left alone long, she said. l must say what I can and then go home. I decline to be called the old woman ' That always lived in a shoe, I live in a brown and green house. And act as the best people do. Little I () Peep ' s turn to talk came next. Her cheeks were wet with tears, which dropped down on her checked apron. I hate to have little girls think that I am so careless about losing sheep, she said ; I never even lost a little lamb. I think my verse should read like this : My name is little Bo Peep. In daytime I play, and at night I sleep. I like the lambs that are sick or weak. I never, never lose my sheep. Little Jack Horner came next. His face was covered with Christmas i)ie. His voice sounded better for the food, and he spoke in a lusty voice : l like ' most every one I know, Esi)ecially Simple Simon. Because he carries cakes an l pies. He ' s Mother Goose ' s pieman. These choice and selected verses will soon ajipear in book form under the name of Kevised Rhymes of Mother Goose. JosKiMiiNK E. St()1)1)Ai;i , W. H. S., ' 17. HO5IN IN SPRING As I sit at my window on Kii tor morn, I hear tlie tlutter of little winys, Anil loDkiniC out upon the lawn. I watcli the dear H()l)in wiiili ' lie sinas. To me his sweet notes seem to say : I lia -e eonie from the land of far-away, And brina: to yon with the sonx I sina The l)almy hreath of coming sprinir. iMiia AM (Kosiiv. ■ IS.

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