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

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WESTWARD HO Hearthstones MARGARET POTTS, ,25 T might have seemed to a casual observer that there were greetings enough for every traveler in Un- ion Station that afternoon; enough and then to spare. But closer ' scrutiny would have revealed the slim Paris-gowned lady moving straight through the crowd with never a word for or from any- one, regarding the enthusiastic receptions accord- ed her fellow-voyageurs with a smile that was strange, crooked, quizzical, and a little touched with cynicism. A welcome for Jessica Bowen in Baltimore? Absurd! Yet Jessica Bowen was coming home for the first time in seventeen long, crowded years! She made a little mental grimace at that idea of homecoming. Baltimore, she was certain, would never again be home to her. Already she re- gretted the impulse that had brought her there, although her stay was to be but seven left- over days. At the end of that time-Floridae Kittredge Ellthorpe. She hailed a cab impatient- ly, resolved to banish thoughts of Kit Ellthorpe. And desire more to dispense with a dirty persist- ent little boy than to possess herself of his wares made her buy a paper before she tipped her por- ter and settled into the indifferent comfort of her taxi. A taxi! Jessica Bowen had not left this same city, all those years ago, in such state. She had a little fleeting vision of that Jessica 0f twen- ty-four: rather freshly starched, innocent, eager; trudging to the train in a hat that was-the Jes- sica of forty-one winced a littlee-really rather unspeakable. Oh, well! That was over and done with. Done with. She opened her news-sheet. Scandal and accident and crime. Just like any other journal of the type. Somewhat obviously humorous, and conservative. ilFamilyfl Jessica,s discreetly, tinted lips curved a bit as she thought of the things she was wont to read: the Hashing little magazines of her friends studio tables, Kit- tredge Ellthorpe,s poetry. But it was some help to realize that the paper wasnt horrible and llyel- lowf, Some photographs on the back page caught her eye. thflicers of Junior Class at Western High School? Those clear-eyed girls! They took her back even beyond that Jessica of twenty-four; back to a Jessica of sixteen, shy and awkward and pigtailed, a Jessicaebut that was so very long ago! It seemed scarcely more than a dim dream that she had once been a Junior at the Western High. Oh, memories; flocks of them! What made her think of these things? She had not thought of them for years. Was her whole week in Baltimore to be thus beset? And still, why not? They were nice enough, clean enough, pleasant enough memories, in all truth! Her cab stopped, which occurrence informed her that she had reached her hotel. She looked about a bit before she went in. Back on Charles Street! A quick little fancy took her; as soon as she had disposed of some of her travel-soil, she would come out and re-explore this Charles Street! The clerk at the desk eyed her respectfully, if covertly, as she wrote her name, llJessica Bowen. She saw his eyebrows go up a trifle. So he knew who Jessica Bowen was! But then it was only a part of his duties to recognize celebrities, she re- flected, as she hesitated for an instant over the address. After all, what was it? New York? Paris? Another of her strange whimsies ther interviewers called it temperameno and she add- ed, somehow inexplicably defiant to herself, ilB'al- timoref, iTm glad to see you haven,t disowned us, Miss Bowen? said the clerk, with just the combina- tion of deference and friendliness advocated in the Be-a-Success booklets. Jessica, turning away, smiled wryly. ' She liked her rooms well enough as she moved about in them, getting settled. Airy, quiet, cosy eyes, quite good. But she was restless. She did not feel like staying indoors. Perhaps it was the breath of spring in the air. Perhaps it was her loneliness. At any rate, she hurried through her bath and dressing-wishing rather impatiently for the maid who had left her in New York-found another of her gay smart hats, and sallied forth. Already the lobby knew her. She saw the meaning little glances and the whispered re- marks; knew as well as if she could hear just what was being said. liOh, yes-Jessica Boweneyou know the Salon. Per-fectely magnificent I ,7 it heardV ll. . write-ups in the papers. 3, Baltimore girl, and--- Jessica was pleased, subtly Battered. She was Jessica Bowen, artisteefamous artist-her pic- tures in the best collections of modern art! She lifted her chin and stepped out into her cityis best-known, best-loved street. Not so far different from any other city, all told. Ah--these buses were an innovation! She climbed into one with a definite sensation of pleasure, and liked it up there. The so-much-to-be-seen was easily

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WESTWARD HO of twenty-four and over that sweet little apart- ment on the fourth floor. tReally, the living and dining rooms are fme for committee meet- ings, and the bed-room is an excellent dressing room for our actors and actresses. Hurrah for the apartment 0 But now that we, Miss Palelfs girls, must say good-bye to our beloved honorary member, to Western and all the dear people in it; now, that it is about time for the history of our class to be recorded on the annals of Western, we want to say that all our successes, any good things that our class has accomplished, are due to Miss Palen, her inflnite patience, unerring judgment, and continuous efforts. If in any place our class has fallen short of the highest mark, this has been due to our stupidity, our failure to follow our faithful guide. In the works of our basketball ttsongsterll: tKHerels our tribute to her, lVe shall neler forget her, For we love her soft ALICE M. BAUER 24. ONE HOURS MOOD MARGARET M. POTTS, l25 0 blue! 0 blue! 0 dreaming sea and sky, 0 hundred silver gulls that kiss the wave With slender, pointed wing-tip! O thou grave, Majestic, silent eagle, soaring high Beyond the sphere of straining human eye-- Beyond the spirecl cliffs all bannered brave With virgin clouds, to which the heavens gave A whiteness that with angels' robes must vie! By sky and bird and rock and cloud and sea We mortal atoms, breathing soft in awe, Must leave our More-Than-Reverence unnamed; From vanities all of a sudden free, We grope, and strive to reach th' Eternal Law, And, sensing it at last, fall back ashamed. THE TREE MARJORIE GRAFFLIN, '25 To see the flaming sun arise, To feel at noon his burning kiss, And watch him fade in crimson skies, What joy could equal this? To bend beneath the tempest's strength To laugh and sway with every breeze, Or sing a wild and dreary tune, What charms compare with these? To have 'neath leafy arms a host Of living creaturesebird and bee; To guard a thousand joys and glooms, What task could greater be? We reach toward higher things than man; The buzz of bee, the song of bird, Our slightest stir reveals more truth Than does his deepest word.

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WESTWARD HO viewed from the elevation. So much to be seen! Either Baltimore had changed mightily or Jes- sica had much forgotten Baltimore. Still, there just ahead was lyashington with his eternal ben- ediction; and a little to one side the golden dome of the Cathedral where, in her absence, a little great man had been laid to rest. And presently, the chaste simplicity of the Peabody, andeoh, Mount Vernon Place had changed! Whether for better, however, she was suddenly indifferent, for her fleeting attention had been caught by the unlowered voices of the two school girls seated in front of her, 'I was wild, Miriam, that's all! I never thought Dot would do such a thing, really. But I made up my mind that any overtures would come from her; so last Tuesdayeyou know she walks with EV on Tuesdays-she called me over to her in the hall and asked me to save her a seat in the assembly next day. Course I knew that was only an excuse. And shels going to movies with me next Friday; she promises? III hear Alice and Esther have broken upf! said Miriam, who had been listening scarcely so at- tentively as Jessica behind. nItls no wonder, either. Two people couldnt be so crazy about each other forever as those two were. Guess it had to happen some time. Jessica forgot to hearken to the rest. Those last words were like tshe smiled at thisl old friends to her. How often in those days she thought she had forgotten-had she heard that same thing said! And things similar to it. said about toh, it was funiin herself andayes, a yellow-haired girl namedeher name had been Katharine Cheswiek. Kate. How she and Kate had sworn allegiance, vowed fidelity. promised in secret eternal celibacy in order to devote their lives to each other! XVell, she had kept her vows of maidenhood well enough. Kittredge Ellthorpe! But Kate had married at twenty-three, that same year that Jessica had so seriously started out to llstudy art in Paris. And Jessica had sent spoons or napery or something of the sort, and proceed- ed to forget her. Funny. XVhat of that first love now? Did she recognize her Jessica in the Jes- siea Bowen of the new art magazines? A sudden desire to see Kate Hained in her. And she would see Kate. Mrs, Chilton Hargrave: that was she; Jessica never forgot a name. Mockng herself and the impulses that ruled her, she left her bus and entered a drug-store in quest of a directory. There was only one Chilton I-Iargrave listed. with an address on a ltroarli she had never heard of, in Guilford. The sensible thing to do would be to 'phone and see if this were really Katels home. but Jessica rejected the idea half-formed. She meant to make herself a complete surprise, if that were possible. So she copied the address into her pocket notebook and went out to find another cab. She rather liked the place where Kate had elected to live. A biggish white house with colon- ial tendencies, perched up at the top of two or three terraces, it was somehow suggestive of the Kate she rememberedein its simplicity andeoh -usua1ness. Her conveyance dismissed, she climbed the steps that led to her old friend, rather dubious of a sudden. It was erratic. But then who had a better right to be erratic? It is forgiven in the famous. At which thought she laughed aloud, wondering whether the truly famous were guilty of that egotism. She was getting as naive about admitting her superiorities aseas Kit Ellthorpe; one inch farther on was snobbishness. JeSsiea did not relish the idea of being a snob. There were voices and laughter within the white house; guests, evidently. Jessica gave the bell a rather tremulous push, and wished she hadnlt. Suppose she should go calmly in, demand- ing Mrs, I'Iargrave, and itawerenltaKate! More and more she felt like a silly schoolgirl out on a wild-goose chase. Jessica Bowen. Rut she snapped shut her teeth on the reflection, vexed again at herself and her growing complacency. Quaint was the quick thought that the Jessica who had said goodbye to Kate had not been con- eeited! A smart little saffron-eolored maid opened the door. It was done, this unbelievable, preposter- ous, absurd thing! ttMrs. HargraVCP't Like a hat Jessica donned her haughtiest foreign air, lifted her eyebrows and a shoulder. Now that she had committed herself, she would see it through like-oh. eon- found the distinguished artist! x The maid had said, IlYesim, a card .3 suspicious- ly, for many of these uppish ones were merely book-agents bluthng through; but she looked con- vinced when Jessica produced the little oblong cardboard credential. ttAhlll ynounce you to Mrs. Hahgrave. Jest step inf, Jessica, stepping, became aware that she had arrived on the scene of a bridge-party. Hor- rible, if it were the wrong Mrs. Irlargrave! The reception hall was non-committal, as she followed the Inulatto in helpless terror. A few steps brought her within view of the tables, and of the lady to whom her name had been handed. The late afternoon sun defined her clearly; her hair tHeaven is mercifulD was yellow. l:IeseJessica Bowen Mshe was bewildered. startled a little. Her voice removed all doubt. Jessica. with a comforting return of sang-froid, swept in. assured, majestic.