West High School - Senior Occident Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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134 THE OCCIDENT Shk Saw a Coin in thk Snow the flying hours. When her brother again stepped forward, she stretched out her arms and murmured despairingly: “Jean—Jean.” The young fellow beside her could no longer refrain from speaking to her. “I am Irving Burton,” he ventured, “can I be of any assistance to you? I think wc have a mutual friend in Mrs. Vanderrock.” Marie turned, surprised to hear a voice so near. She saw the kindness in his face and the straightforwardness of his demeanor. In no time, she had told him her story. After Marie had gone he went to the box office of the theatre and secured the address of the war film company. Then he went home and wrote to secure all the news possible of the French regiment. As he sat at his desk, he became strangely moved. He contrasted the life which he was leading with that of young Jean in France. On the one hand, he saw himself not only busted out of col- lege, but absolutely dependent upon his father for every cent he spent. On the other hand, he saw Jean working with all his might for himself and for his sis- ter of whom he probably thought con- tinually, and hoped some day to find. Irving had lately felt much abused and downcast on account of his failure at college though this hadn’t troubled him as much as the fact that his father had cut his allowance. Worse yet, his mother, even, had turned against him. He had considered that his was a sad fate until he met Marie. It was then . that he found a sorrow far greater than his. Irving began to realize that he alone was responsible for the sadness. He resolved, then and there, to change his way and to do better. In a week’s time, Irving received a reply from the film company. He went directly to Mrs. Vanderrock with the good news. It contained all that Marie desired—mainly that the regiment was in winter quarters near Calais. She wrote to Jean asking him if it would be pos- sible and advisable for her to join him in France as a nurse. Weeks of vague hope passed. Marie began to despair of having an answer from Jean; but finally it came! She was elated for it contained the news that nurses were urgently needed, that she should come at once,—and to Jean’s camp! Passage was enclosed, so there was nothing to do but to prepare for her leaving. (Continued on page 54)

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133 THE OCCI DENT stopped short, and then turned to Mrs. Yanderrock crying, “O! Madame, what shall I do? I am alone and without money—Jean!—Father!” She burst into sobs and clung to Mrs. Vandcrrock. “Never mind, my dear,” Mrs. Vander- rock said, “you shall be safe with me. Now I will call the stewardess to help you back to your place, but come again to-morrow. In the meantime, I shall plan something for you ' II. In New York, Marie acted as gover- ness to Mrs. Vanderrock’s children. A long, long year had passed; no news of Jean had reached her although she had tried to communicate with him and friends in Belgium. During all those months she had suffered dreadfully. Al- though she was sent to school, she made no friends for she was timid in attempt- ing to speak English. Moreover, her re- served manner, due greatly to her deep sorrow did not invite friendship. She often sought the seclusion of a classroom after school hours to dream of home and Jean, often crying over their misfortune. She worked hard in her spare time, with Mrs. Vanderrock’s children; so she had no time for recreation. More lonely than ever, Marie was wandering slowly home after an especial- ly hard day at school when, glancing down, she saw a coin in the snow. Trembling she picked it up. It was the first time she had had any money since she and Jean had been parted. Mrs. Vanderrock had given her a home and schooling, but no money. She was won- dering how to use it when she turned and saw that she was in front of a mov- ing picture theatre. She decided to go in, for she was cold and unusually de- pressed. Marie had never been in an American theatre. She selected a seat in the front. By chance she sat down next to a young man who took no interest in the pictures. He was settled comfortably and was looking about when he noticed Marie coming in. He was struck by her beauty. She, however, was not even aware of his presence,, for this was a novelty to her. He studied her profile, noticing her piquant nose and heavy, dark lashes; her olive skin and her drooping mouth. Marie was interested in spite of her- self, in the pictures, smiling or sighing at intervals. She was enjoying herself thus when a war film was thrown upon the screen. She took a passer's interest in it at first, but suddenly she sat up. Could it be he?—It was he' “Mon Dieu,” she criea, “ tis Jean1 She started forward but then sank back when she felt the futility of her move. Her eyes widened as she saw Jean step forward from the line of soldiers, remove his cap, and proudly re- ceive the badge of merit which was pinned to his coat. Marie clasped her hands, watching the movements with all the pride and admiration of a mother. Too soon, he stepped back into line and another picture was being shown. Marie relaxed, weeping quietly as her longing for Jean came upon her, more urgent than ever. “Mon fiere, she sobbed, “je suis navree.” The young fellow beside her noticed her starts and wondered at them. He finally decided that one of the French soldiers was her lover. Presently he arose and went out. But once outside, the beautiful, sad, face of the girl re- curred in his mind and her piteous crys sounded in his ears. He determined to go back to watch her. She didn’t even know he was there, he argued. So he went in again taking a seat beside her. As he sat there he tried to recall where he had seen such a girl. Suddenly he realized that it was this same girl! He had seen her at Mrs. Vanderrock’s when he had driven his mother there to call. Again, the war picture was before them. Marie had waited, regardless of

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Roth Gillsttk, President Elizabeth Gay. Vice-President Louise Schknck, SecreUry HISTORY OF THE CLASS OF JANUARY, 1916 Once upon a time, many years ago, (four, to be exact) a great many chil- dren, diplomas, papers and entrance cards in hand, presented themselves in good time at the portals of West High School. When the doors were opened, they timidly entered, and went at once to their study rooms. How large and terrifying everything looked! Neverthe- less, they did all they could to appear nonchalant and entirely at home. Yet how the day dragged! In thinking of the four years ahead of them it seemed as though “To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to- morrow Would creep in petty pace, from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time.” Yet it seemed scarcely a week until the first term was but a memory. Wc were freshman finals, and could sit back with amused glances for other new- comers. The class was organized, and the pins purchased. This was the begin- ning of our career. In the second year, tableaus were given, which were known as the “Sopho- more Character Sketches.” Our class also set a new precedent by transform- ing the old “Sophomore Dance” into a truly informal and social occasion, for the members of the class alone. The evening was a great success, and was much enjoyed by every one. Our third year was marked chiefly by the Junior Dance, held in the corri- dors of the school, and the Junior Farce. The play selected was “My Lord in Liv- ery” and was presented by an able cast, trained by Mrs. Ellis. And now we come to our fourth year, the last and best of all! There are so many things that we must not forget! Our Christmas party, held in the girls’ gymnasium, met with the success which seemed to attend all of the undertakings of our fortunate class. Our play, the “Piper, given by both the June and Jan- uary classes of 1916, was the most elab- orate production ever staged at West High. January 14th is a night that will long be remembered by every member of the class. Senior Day, Class Day, ex- aminations, follow each other closely. And now comes graduation, and the end of our brief reign. We go to swell the ever increasing number of the alumni. You who follow in our foot-steps, re- member and honor us, not only for- what wc have done, but for what we have been. Mary R. Cowles. •