Westfield High School - Weather Vane Yearbook (Westfield, NJ)

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2cS THE WEATHER VANE sitting sulkily on the ground. A wave of irritation and self-pity flooded me. I seized her. and laughing, tossed her in. The surging echoes rolled and re-echoed, billowing around me, thrilling, shaking me. The echo ditd. meaningly, and 1 fled front the spot. She had long sworn to avenge herself on me. Her skeleton! God! I hold my throat. Ilers, hers, these her bones; the flesh has rotted away, her sockets grinning from her skull. The water is rising, rising. I don't remember how 1 earn. here. To e-eapi the law, of course. Christmas candles, green and white and pink, mocking me. And Cheng swore to avenge Ir rself. I gasp, choke. Her talons clasp me. The water rises. Can I not get out ? The entrance is tilled. Held here with my dear wife, ha, ha, ha! Her bones rattle with the creaking. Help, help, help! She comes back in the flesh. See the cloud steal our her bones. 1 cannot, cannot get out. My nails are broken. Her face takes shape. She leers at me. The candle is flickering. Cheng, my wife, pity me. Do not torture me. Speak, speak, ami pardon me. What does she say ? Her fleshless gums chatter loathsomely. The water rises. To my chin. To her chin. Bones again. The flesh has gone. Pardon, Cheng, pardon, pardon.” The candle went out with a hiss, and the fear-struck soul after its final agonies lay quietly with the gleaming bones. Gilmore Spencer, '23. OX BEING ABSENT-MINDED 1 have always felt a keen sense of pity for absent-minded people. They are constantly being ridiculed, and are often the cause of great mirth. It is next to impossible to pick up any magazine without finding the usual joke about the absent-minded something or other. My experience in that field is, much to my embarrassment, the greatest of family jokes. Several months ago it was my misfortune to be obliged to take my youngest sister shopping. An unusually heavy storm was raging, and as I insisted on wearing my best clothes, Mother felt that it was her duty to give me her umbrella, which, incidentally, is the only really good one in the family. Knowing that leaving things behind is one of my greatest failings. I was reminded at least a dozen times before 1 left to be sure to bring the umbrella back. Walking down the street, 1 kept saying to myself, “I mustn’t leave the umbrella in the car, etc., etc., until 1 felt confident that 1 would. Having made short work of the shopping, we were soon on our way home. We had gotten out of the ear, and were walking down the street, when my sister suddenly asked me where the umbrella was.

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THE WEATHER VANE 27 tvei ; au hour or two at tlu best was all they could hope for; alter that, a thousand to one chance in the boats. The stowaway staggered to his feet in amazement. The impact had caused one of the topmost boxes to fall into the hold with him. It had burst open. 1I stared, horror frozen. Then he hurst into a frenzied, hopeless yell, for the white bones of a skeleton gleamed through the split boards. His sanity had come back. Hod save him, and he realized absolute, stark terror, lie tore at the walls, but in vain. .Merciful insanity would not return. At length he screamed himself out. He could experience nothing worse now. yet pangs of tear quivered through his body as the email' . ('hrist mas candle, flickered I'earsomely over I he gleaming skull. 11( tore his face from the thing and glanced at the now terrifying blackness above. But the skeleton drew his eyes, and he. silent now, look, d again. “Who are you.' The ship is sinking. In a whisper, “Who are you? Remembrance came betaking in upon him: he remembered now. lie had read of it in the newspaper. “Bones of Chinese to go home. All of those boxes, then, were full of skeh tons, surrounding him, jeering. And the ship was sinking. Ah, a tag was attached to the box. He read, and jumped back with a scream. My wife little Cheng, my Chinese wifi ! How did she die? I cannot remember. And these are her bones. She swore to avenge In r-self. And now—1 must have been mad a long time. I fetl her law, her sockets, her spine. When was 1 hit ? Yes, I was mad. 1 was a unique collector; my fortune enabled that. Some collect flags, coins, or pottery, but I collected echoes. Yes, that was unique. Was it mad? I cannot tell. 1 bought them in India, in Spain, everywhere. I went to all countries. Did she move her jaw ? It seemed so. Double and triple echoes, I bought the land that In Id them. An obsession, they called it. But it gave me pleasure. Four or five echoes in one, how they come back, thrilling, haunting me. I went to China and married Cheng. She soon found I was mad. 1 brought her home to America. My great fortune was almost gone, i could not assemble my prizes in one place. And then I heard of an echo in Maine that surpassed all others. It was wonderful. It vibrated everlastingly. All tin demons of hell together could make no such noise; wolves howling down the winter passes of the Himalayas. 1 returned day after day. Difficulties with Cheng for years. An unhappy marriage. She Chinest, I English. The echoes could lie made either by yelling or rolling big stones into the cavern. She hated me; her fleshless teeth sneer at me now. But she did not escape. She knew well, too well, that I was mad. Again I came to the echo, although my health was failing. My voice was gone. How ‘o produce the noise? I looked at Cheng

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THE WEATHER VANE 20 The fatal moment had arrived ! “I left ii in the trolley car,” 1 fairly screamed. and started aftr the ear knowing all the while that 1 eould never catch it. Without thinking of what I v;r doing. I rushed into a store to call a taxi. The man on the other end of the wire politely inquired where 1 wanted to go, and in my • xeitement 1 replied, “ 1 haven't the faintest idea, but please hurry. In less than no time the taxi had arrived. 1 explained my trouble to the driver, and asked him to follow the trolley. He said because of the storm, lie would have to take me down to the ear barns. I sank wearily back in the car, and prepared for a long ride, and a large taxi bill. Suddenly I felt something cold and wet around my ankles. What! That couldn't be tin umbrella hanging on my arm! Too true. There it was, and had been all the time. 1 tapped lightly on the window, and said meekly to tin driver, “Will you please take me home? I've found what 1 was looking for. '23. THE MEDI CM Most college girls, when they go out for amus ment, usually want more excitement than they g t around their college: and these two girls 1 am going to tell you about were out for a lot of unusual amusement. It was a bleak afternoon (for it has to be a bleak afternoon where there is an unusual adventure involved , when our two friends left tin college grounds for the excitement of tin town. The main streets offend nothing more than the usual store windows and the many types of American people walking about the streets, so they turned from the business sections and wandered on and on to the small by-ways that are forbidden walks to the college students. While walking slowly past one of the low. dark buildings, one of the girls looked up and saw a sign that read, “Medium.” “Oh, Marj, she said, “a Medium! Come on! Be a sport. Let's go in.'5 Marj, like so many obedient (?i and law-abiding college girls, gasped, and said, “It would be fun—it's forbidden, you know’. If we were caught here, we'd he campussed or they'd do some awful thing to us for breaking rules. This street is the one that is absolutely forbidden. Let's not. “Oh, you and your old rules make me sick. Besides, w ho'll ever knowr the difference? And finally Marj was won over by the pleading Dotty. But friend Marj only consented to go in on the condition that one go