Western High School - Westward Ho Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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WESTWARD HO 9 ing rocking chair beside the drum stove that sup- plied heat to the one room in the house that boasted such a luxury, and the old-fashioned range, over which h-er mother, enveloped in a huge apron, was bending. Uncle Jake. bent with age, sat in a corner sharpening knives. and stoop- ing every now and then to bestow a friendly pat upon the broad head of the shaggy black dog lying at his feet. Funny how animals loved Uncle lake. lt was because he loved them, she sup- posed, almost as much as he loved the sunsets. and the violets that ran rampant in the back yard. There was one thing she would always remember about Uncle lake. One day when she had been complaining as usual about the dingy furniture and the dusty walls, and had declared weeping, There's never anything pretty here. never, never, Uncle jake had taken her by the arm and had led her to the window. He had spoken in an unusually quiet tone. '!Carrie, girl, there's nothing under the sun puttier than that. and he had pointed to a cherry tree, a riot of bright pink blossoms against the blue of the sky. But she had wrenched herself angrily away. A tree! The sky! NYhat she wanted were soft draperies and gorgeous flowers in low. colorful bowls. A tree indeed! In a few minutes Carrie knew, as she looked back into the past, that Uncle jake would hobble out to hitch up old Ben to the rickety cart. and drive up to the door with a Hourish. calling out, The kerridge awaits your highnessf' all the time wrinkling up his cracked lips over his almost toothless gums in sardonic humor. She almost hated him then, and during the drive to the school house she would sit grim and silent. while Uncle jake occasionally chuckled to himself, or exclaimed over the picture made by a lonely pine standing out in bold relief against the lowering sky. Carrie had tried to forget the old district school house, heated by stoves and -eternally in an uproar, but she had one memory of her child- hood days that she treasured. That was the memory of the county high school, established and nominally supported by the county, but ac- tually the pet hobby of a philanthropic million- aire whose country home was nearby. and who equipped the school with all modiern conven- iences, and sent out from the city the finest teachers. The County High School was not near Dalton, and few Dalton boys and girls attended. being kept at home for farm work, but Mrs. Marsden, remembering the fine education of her late husband, decided that Carrie must become a pupil at the school. But in a way her education had done her as much harm as good. Never quite content with her lot, and rebellious as a child, she had risen above her homely neighbors and her own family, and had soon become more restless and dissatisfied than ever. Vague ideas of going to the city took possession of her, and at night as she lay in bed she could hear the whistles of the trains on the tracks nearby, going from. VYashington to Tjaltimore, from Baltimore to Vtlashington. Vthen the shrill whistles screamed she would dash to the window, and resting her elbows on the sill, would look at the rushing trains until the last car had swung around the bend. And then, back to bed to dream of the time when she would go with them! Her decision had been formed soon after this. She went to one of the infrequent neighborhood gatherings, which she never enjoyed and at- tended only for a change of atmosphere, and there she met a young girl of her own age who was working in XVashington. Fine job, too, and some cash! You oughtn't to stay buried in this hole, dearie. Snap out of itll' And Carrie had snapped out of it. She had packed her few clothes, said farewell to her weeping and bewilder-ed mother, and after prom- ising to go to her- mother's cousins, whose ad- dress she had, at last rode away from Dalton on a XYashington bound express. Her heart pound- ed happily as the train rushed toward the city where she was to make her fortune. How glad she would be to get away from the dingy, sordid life of the country, the smoking lamps. and the stove that burnt up one's face while onels back froze. She arrived in XVashington, and after various inquiries presented herself at her cousins' home. They did not at all fit in with her dream of city happiness. Their home in the southeast part of the Capital was small, stuffy and almost as bad as the farm. llut the people were hospitality personified, and, strangely enough, it was through them that Carrie received her great opportunity. She had walked the streets looking for a position, but it had seemed that no one wanted to employ a country girl without experience. and Carrie turned sadly away from door after door. She was feeling all her rosy dreams vanishing when Cousin Joe Parker told her of his plan. Cousin ,loe was a typist in the offices of the Clerk of the Supreme Court: he had grown old in the service and was now much respected by all his co-work- ers. He was so happy to think he could do something to help Carrie that his kindly old face beamed as he told her his news. The file clerk in the ofnce had resigned, and another one must be had immediately. Cousin joe had at once recommended Miss Marsden, and since the need of a clerk was so imperative. Miss Marsden was requested to report for duty the following day. Carrie was jubilant. Her ability to work and her interest soon won for her the approval of

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Under False COlO1'S IC. lic DXVLING, '26, lfllf March wind blew lustily. Its keen, sharp blast penetrated even through the heavy fur wrap of S1 young girl who had just alighted from a street car, and who was now walking, with some difficulty the wind, northward on Connecti- cut Avenue. She shivered as the knife-keen cold pierced her, and drawing her luxurious coat still closer about her, hurried to the entrance of a nearby apartment house. Inside there was warmth and subdued light from soft-toned lamps glow- ing in the lobby, and with a sigh of relief the girl threw back her coat and -entered the elevator. Ten ffoors up she stepped from the elevator and in a few minutes she was standing in the cozy living room of her own little apartment. Carrie Marsden was tired, very tired, and she still felt, every now and then, a cold shiver as the howling wind blustered around the corner of the house, but the steam radiators in the apart- ment were hissing cheerfully, and the green and yellow love birds in their ornate cage in the Q ! E E ! i i in the face of sunniest window were singing blithely, and as she went to hang up her coat Carrie espied a and all letter and a package on the hall table, her weariness and cold vanished entirely. Today was her birthday. It seemed very queer to be away from home on her birthday. And Carrie. as she snuggled down in a nest of pillows on her soft couch, looked a trifle wistful, even though she had almost hated her home. lilagerly she opened her letter. The package she left for last, even as she had always left unopened long- est the bulkiest and most mysterious of Christ- mas bundles, hto have the fun of looking for- ward to them. The letter. just as she had thought, was a birthday letter from her hard- working mother at home in the little town, no, not town, community of Dalton. The beginning was full of tender messages and birthdav greet- ings, but the anxieties weighing upon the mind of the writer had evidently been too many and serious to allow the letter to be continued in such a tenor. lt set forth a situation which im- mediately changed Carrie's attitude of comfort and happiness. V 'fThings are not looking so good at home, wrote Carries mother. Your Ifncle -lacob's rheumatism is much worse, and he has gone to his sister's twhere he should have gone ages ago, muttered Carriej and left me without a mite of help on the farm. I'm mighty sorry vou couldn't send me any money, Carrie, but it does 8 seem like I can't go on another day without some. And the ,lersey is dead. I used to be able to make a little money on her milk, but now thats all gone, and honest, Carrie, things are awful. We can't get any coal. I only keep one stove going and old Trusty and I sit by it every night thinking of you, Carrie, darling, and wishing- but theres no use wishing that, I guess. Carrie dropped the letter and slowly opened the package. lt contained a gay, fancy pillow in the shape of a butterfiy. Carrie had a hobby of collecting strange pillows. On the couch where she now reclined was a plump, rose taffeta heart, edged with lacy ruiiles, and a cushion fashioned like the head of a Colonial lady, with powdered hair, patches and roguish blue eyes. Mother must have made the butterfly herself. That cre- tonne certainly savored of the Dalton country store! Carrie felt that she hated herself for that last thought. There was a smooth, rectangular package inside of the large one, and wondering, Carrie opened it. lfrom Uncle lake! The old man was considered quite an artist by his fellow countrymen who knew nothing whatever about art, and his work was rather good, albeit a little rough. ll'is old hand frequently trembled in ap- plying his brush, and his strokes lacked firmness and decisiveness, but his love and use of color always seemed to make up for his defects in technique. lle had done his best with the little sketch he had sent his niece for her birthday. liefore Carrie, in a poor frame, was a replica of her old home, low and brown and rambling. surrounded by a wid-e porch. There were cherry trees in the front yard and wistaria vines climb- ing over the porch, but Uncle .lake had not let his ideas of beauty eliminate sordid realism. There was also a broom on the front porch, a disreputable pump on the side, and a front gate hanging drunkenly by one hinge. f'At least he had sense enough to paint the old hut in summer and not in winter, muttered Carrie. The picture slid down to the fioor, but Car- rie did not heed it, She was thinking of home, home in the winter time. Ifghl It was awful. The Marsdens had alwavs arisen at dawn, cracked the ice that had formed in the wash basin, and dressed in the cold bleakness without a lamp. Carrie could see herself, attired in an unbecom- ing serge dress, with her hair in a tight braid. eating breakfast in the kitchen. The scene etched itself upon her mind with startling clear- ness. There was the battered old table with its red and white cloth and heavy china: the creak-

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I0 WESTWARD I-IO her superiors. Her success l1ad been most un- usual. XN'ithin a month she l1ad been advanced and her salary raised, llfleanwhile, feeling the need of companionship of girls her own age she had become rather friendly with the girls 111 the office, girls with whom she had very little in com- mon, and who realized that Carrie was too sel- fish and self-centered to be really friendly with any of them. liesides, Carrie could not shake oE her country habits and training as easily as she had supposed, and she did not always enjoy herself at the somewhat boisterous parties that her new friends, in their own vernacular, Hpulledf' There was something else that was a serious blot on Carrie's happiness. That was the Parker house, her present residence. The place was re- pulsiv-e to her. She hated it all, the stuffy rooms, the cabbage roses on the llrussels carpets, and the carved and fluted pillars that held up the orna- ment-bedecked mantlepiece. Nor was there much in the way of amusement. The Parkers had neither victrola nor radio: there could be no dancing, and the old couple would stiffen hos- tilely at the mention of cards. Carrie longed for a small place, if only two rooms. to call her own, to fix up in bright draperies and pretty furniture. That was her dream, but she had felt there was no possibility of its fulfillment when one morning on her way to the office she read an Had in the Tim-es that sent her scurrying away to a Con- necticut Avenue street car, and a few minutes later through the entranceway of a large apart- ment house. The advertisement had said the tenth floor, and up went Carrie, shaking with eagerness and fear. Soon afterward she left the place with such an uplifted expression that one might have thought that she was seeing a vision. lglut it was a very material vision. For Carrie now had her own home. She had answered the adv and found just what she wanted, two rooms. beautifully furnished, sunny and bright, and a darling little blue and white kitch-enette. And all this within the limits of her pocketbook! Tshe owner was going abroad for several years and wanted to rent her apartment as soon as she could. And Carrie, hastening to the ofhce, knew she was hf- teen minutes late, but what did it matter! Those two sunny rooms and that blue and white kitch- enette would be hers tomorrow. She had moved in feeling like a princess with her lovely surroundings. At last she had a home, some place to return after a hard day at the ofhce, a place where she could kick off her slip- pers and curl up on the couch, to peruse unin- terrupted an interesting story. But her living expenses now mounted quite high, and the amount of money that at first she had faithfully sent l10111C with conscious pride was sadly diminished. Tm awfully sorry about that, she thought, chewing her pencil as she puzzled over her ac- count books, but living is 50 high. Carrie had not been able to buy herself 1na11y new clothes. The money she had been sending had cut a large hole in her salary, and now tl1e apartment was taking more tllall she had thought. But each day she realized more and 111ore how shabby her clothes were becoming, especially her coat. She could not help contrasting it, shabby, and without even a fur collar, with the bright- hued, fur trimmed, or fur coats of the other girls i11 the office. Once sh-e ventured to ask how they could afford them. Hlnstallment plan, Deariefl said Miss Swartzman, the 'fsnapipiest dresser i11 the office. Buy 'em on 'tickf Honest, it's a cinch. Wihy dontcha get one 7' llvhy, in- deed! Carrie did not like the idea of buying on the installment plan. For her that was out of the question. But couldnt she save? Fur coats were very much reduced now, and besides her old one was so shabby and thin she was always catching cold. Cf course, there was her mother, back home at Dalton. She might be needing a coat this year. Dalton winters were severe. ,llut good heavens, mother was buried down there! She never went out anywhere. It didnlt matter about her, but Carrie-. She did save. She put off the rent and sl1e bought her coat, a hand- some thing that semed to fit in with the apart- ment, but certainly not with Carries other clothes. And that month, and the following month, no money went home. Then Carrie met Vtfilton Davidge, old Judge Davidge's son -old Judge Davidge, with the snow white hair and aristocratic features, and the stately carriage and horses he still clung to, de- spite the fact that his son's smart car was always at his disposal. Anybody who was anybodyf, and a great many who were not, knew or knew of the Davidges, and could point out their home with its sweep of gravel driveway, and its pil- lared entrance facing Farragut Square. VVilton Davidge had come to the Courthouse on business for his father, and Carrie was sent to help him look up the document he wanted. The business had been transacted satisfactorily and there was no need for young Mr. Davidge to linger, but he did linger, nevertheless. The next day he came again-on business! Carrie had been lonely for the past few weeks. She found that the girls in the office and their crowd did not interest her, and on-e by one they dropped away. lVilton's friendship meant a good deal to Carrie. lVith all connections broken off with her former friends at the office, and the Parkers indignant at the independent