Weber State University - Acorn Yearbook (Ogden, UT)

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110 | { The Acorn TO THE FACULTY Our Faculty, we love you all From our Apostle down; For many smiles you’ve given us When we deserved a frown. We have so much to thank you for, And never can repay The truths that you have taught to us In lessons every day. We all do most sincerely hope That in our lives, each day, We may, by your example taught, Help some one on his way. And so dear teachers one and all, We thank you for the ray Of living light you’ve shed on us, To help us on our way.—Ellen Agren.

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THe Acorn 11 9j Not many hours afterward, he was walking down the main street of his home town. How glad he was to be home! What a warm wel- come there would be in that little cottage by the mill. Thad Reuver could hardly wait to see those dear blue eyes of Bessie’s and hear the roguish laugh of little Rob as he ran out to meet his father. Just think little Rob would be five years old now! Finally he arrived at the gate and in a moment, Bessie was in the arms of her husband. Baby Rob came running out but stopped in wonderment for a minute or two. He could hardly remember his papa. It didn’t take so very long however for him to say, “You’re a soldier, aren’t you papa?” “Yes, my son.” “You’re a true soldier too, aren’t you papa? Mamma says I may have a soldier suit some day and maybe I’ll grow to be a true blue sol- dier too.” What thoughts were these that were clogging Thad’s brain and dimming his eyes with tears? “Had he been a true blue soldier? Did he want his little son to grow up to be like him?—Well no other Union man knew about it. What was the difference?-----There was a differ- ence. Why, oh why didn’t I realize it before?” Little Rob tugged away at his father’s sleeve but all was in vain, the tears kept coming. He awoke. The captain was nudging him and telling him that the General was here for the plans. “I can’t, I can’t tell them,” was all he could say for moments. “What’s the matter with you ? Have you forgotten your promise ?” “Forgotten! Goodness gracious, no. The thoughts of it haunt me. I’d rather be insulted, whipped, starved and die in the meanest, lowest prison on earth than be a traitor to my country.” The general walked away dumb-founded. “We might have known it would’t work,” he muttered. Little Rob did have a blue soldier suit and he, like his papa tried to be a true blue soldier.—Marion A. Belnap,'05.

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The Acorn | | 111 A REVERIE Every evening just as darkness Falls upon the silent earth, And the wintry landscape fading Mingles sadness with our mirth, Steal I softly to the fireplace, Where I love to sit and muse, While the leaping flames go dancing Up and down the blackened flues. All alone here with the shadows Flickering on the darkened walls, While the wailing wind of winter Down the wide old chimney calls, Long and often do I linger, Gazing where the embers cast Glowing paintings of the future— Fading pictures of the past. On one side, the ruddy firelight Stretches in its rosy hues, Visions of a brighter future With success and joy, its dues; But among the fairest pictures, Darker spots are found as well— Sorrow, pain and often evil Are the things the spots foretell. On the other side, the embers Dying down to ashen gray. Reproduce to tender fancy Dear old times long passed away. Half forgotten joys and sorrows, Blended in a dimmer light, Flood the heart with half sweet sadness, Vanished days come back tonight. Dreaming here I sometimes wonder Whether in far distant years, As an aged woman waiting, Free from all youth’s hopes and fears When the trails of life are over I shall watch the dying light, Picture with its last faint glimmer Future days without a night. —Pearl Smuin,’08.