Westport Junior High School - Iris Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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The Legend of the Devils Hopyaurd In the pleasant country of Eastern Massachusetts, just outside the village of Dalton, there lies a wild and picturesque tract of land that is known as the Devil's Hopyard. A brook, which flows along pleasantly enough before, becomes a thing of sparkling water- falls and mysterious whirlpools here: and trees and shrubbery grow thick and dark, and in one place a heap of half-rotted timbers shows that at some time there was a building at that spot. It seems a fitting place for the execution of some dark crime- but the villagers of Dalton tell another story. Many, many years ago there dwelt in Dalton one Jacob Green, a staunch supporter of the church, a firm believer in the doctrine of predestination, and withal, the possesser of one of the best farms in the vicinity, as well as of two sons, Joseph and John. Joseph was the pride of the village-a devoted sun, a conscientious though somewhat stupid student. John, on the contrary, was a handsome, quick-witted, mischief-loving lad who, according to the villagers, was never on the right side of anything. John, being of a logical turn of mind, seeing the reputation he had built up in the village and thinking it too firmly established in the minds of the people for hope of reforming, proceeded to make it worse by amusing himself throwing paper wads in school, creating a commo- tion wherever he went-growing more adept every year in the art of assuming inno- cence when he had it not. At length in his sixteenth winter, matters came to a crisis. He committed an of- feiise for which he was tried at once and sentenced to a month in the Hadden county Jai . The month passed pleasantly for the young thief. The jail itself was an ancient wooden building, consisting of but one room, whose windows were barred by rusty iron gratings. If he had been so inclined, John could have broken out easily. But he was away from his fathcr's lectures, away from lessons and church attendance, and best of all, his companion in imprisonment was an Indian, who entertained him with all sorts of outlandish tales. John's time was up at last, and one snowy afternoon he started to walk the seven miles from the jail to his home. Half way there he spied his father and brother in the family carriage, also bound for home. Oh, father! Oh, Joseph! he called. They paid no attention to him. He ran and overtook them. Why, father, he said, aren't you glad to see me safe and sound again? I tell you, it will seem very good to get home to a hot fire once more, and mother making hot tea-. Stop! cried Jacob in wrathful tones. We've heard of your actions while you were in jail. You are no longer any son of mine, John! with which he whipped up the horses and soon left John far behind. For a few minutes the lad was indeed bewildered. He knew that none of the other villagers would take him in. There remaind a last resort,-Squire Thornton, the wealth- iest man in the village, who was of the same nature as John. To Squire Thornton's then he made his way, That jolly man and his fairy-like daughter Evelyn heard his story and made him welcome. The next day the Squire offered to send him away and give him a chance to make his fortune, an ofier which he joyfully accepted. . i'And when I come back, he told Evelyn privately, I shall marry you and we shall live in a fine house down by the falls. The next evening, just at dusk, a carriage in which were seated the devil fall of Dalton saw his horns, tail and cloven hoofsj nnd John Green,drawn atasupernaturally rapid rate of-speed by an immense black horse, clattered down the main street of the village and disappeared in the wild and lonesome region below the falls, During .the years of John's absence from the village, Joseph and Samantha Briggs, the grave-digger's daughter, were engaged to be married. One Sunday, just as the wedding party of Joseph and Samantha was issuing from the church, an exceedingly smart travelling carriage, with a solitary inmate, passed on the road to Squire Thorn- ton s. The traveler, though none of the village recognized him, was in truth none other than John Green, who wascoming back to Evelyn, having made an immense fortune in the West Indian trade. Within the next few days it, was known all through the country EIGIITY-rnrun

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gridiron star, and was it not xi chap with n topknot of red that piloted our sister school. Westport, to victory in basketball this year? Ah, basketball! That is our story. It was the very eve of the basketball season and the excitement over the topic sim- mering nlong for weeks, had reached its highest peak. Teachers found it impossible to quell the restlessness and impatience in the air and at last gave up the attempt. The day, so long to others, fairly flew for Ted Morrel, siubstitute. Tonight .was the great night. But over his Latin grammar he allowed his thoughts to take him back to the day, weeks before, when he had first tried for a place on the school team. He remembered the tuunts and jeers thrown at him from the onlookers at his clumsy efforts and awkward movements, and the nickname he had acquired which had clung like a burr ever since. That name Slobl How he hated it! Then, too, when he had just been ready to give up, the girl with the red hair had come up and told him that he was wonderful and would be a star yet. Of course he didn't believe it, but it was nice that some one thought so. Suddenly he came back to earth with a start. Sl- Ted, you will please recite the subjunctivef' said the teacher. Even he calls me 'Slob,' thought Ted. At last the great night came, the night which should decide the victor, Broad- nioreland or Redridge. The memorial hall was filled to overflowing with the follow- ers of both schools, their cheer leaders and bands. The hall itself was a riot of blazing color. Ted, dressed early, found himself scanning the spectators for the girl with the red hair. He needed encouragement, and there was something about her that made him feel like trying. You will be a star yet, still rang in his ears. Redridge and Broadmoreland ran into the court. Cheers and a deafening uproar greeted their entrance: then the spectators quieted to watch with breathlessness the game between the rivals. Now the great game was on. Neither school made much advance in the first quarter. The ball passed from one school to the other until Broadmoreland with a sudden spurt put a mm-gin of ten between Redridge and herself. The quarter ended with Broadmoreland twelve, Red- ridge fou1'. Rez ridge was still completely dazed, hut her followers were as loyal as ever. Redridge with fresh vigor brought the score from four to ten in the first few minutes of play. The second quarter ended with Broadmoreland seventeen, Redridge fourteen. Broadmoreland was gaining slowly. The third quarter dragged. Each team seemed to be saving its strength for the last quarter and little advance was made. Broadmoreland still led by a margin of five. Redridge's coach began replacing the weakest players with fresh substitutes- Still Ted was not sent in. His glance wandered again to the spectators in search of that color, red. He needed it to spur him on. Now the fourth quarter was on. Redridge mude a neat basket. Broadmoreland led now by only three. Lanier, guard, had fallen. The coach was glancing wildly around for a substitute when he espied Ted. Do you think you can do it? he demanded roughly. Just try me and see, he answered seriously. Well, hustle in there and we'll see. Now Ted was in the midst of the battle. The plucky little forward scored a bas- ket, leaving Broadmoreland ahead by one point. Everything blurred. He saw nothing but the brown oval coming through the air to him. He grasped it and glanced wildly around. There was no one near. He must try. He remembered all the counsel he had ever been given: Keep cool. He took careful aim and the ball sailed through the air to the basket, wavered a moment on the edge, and then went in. Redridge was leading, twenty-three to Broadmoreland's twenty-two. Only two minutes to play! Would Broadmoreland score? Redridge tightened her defense. One minute left. Then the fxinal gun. Redridge had triumphed over her old rival. Ted Slab Morrel was t e ero. Far up in the balcony a girl with red hair was waving like the rest. Her pre- diction had come true. Ted was a star. Funny about that color, red! -ELLEN Ni:sBi1 r. Emu1 i rum i.

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that he had bought the falls and the land surrounding them, and intended to build a house there for himself and his wife, Evelyn. In six months the house was completed, and such a house! lt was far finer than the Squire's. There was a summer house, built in one romantic glade, and negro servants, and a whole stableful of fine horses. Dalton was more than ever convinced that he was in league with Satan. This convic- tion was greatly strengthened by another incident which took place shortly afterwards- Old Daniel Briggs, the grave-digger, happened one afternoon to behold John fishing -not with the stick, string, pin, and worm used by all the fishermen of Dalton, but with a flexible kind of rod, a string that grew longer or shorter as the fisherman willed, and bright-colored insects,-clearly all inventions of the devil! Old Briggs, possessed of a vivid imagination, painted the story with horrible details, which caused all of Dal- ton to avoid the Squire and John. , Strange looking men and women were continually visiting John and Evelyn, and they themselves often went away for a month or so at a time. Gradually the village ceased to marvel at themg they no longer furnished an interesting subject for gossip. But one morning, seven years to a day after John's return, one of the strange gentle- men drove up to the house in a great rush. John climbed into the carriage with the gentleman of Satanic appearance, the coachman cracked his whip, and driving at a tre- mendous rate of speed, they disappeared in the wild and lonesome region beyond the falls. John Green was never seen nor heard of again. Therefore, say the villagers, it is clear that the devil carried him off to his fiery abode. And so, from that day to this, John Green's property has been known as the Devil's Hopyard. -Manton Momus. Reminiscences of Poe It was a terrible night: the elements were fighting a flickering and boisterous bat- tleg the rain poured down in sheetsg and the lightning intermittently made the world as lightas day. The thunder roared and rumbled as if great barrels were being tossed about the sky by huge giants. Into this great chaos of the elements I had stepped earlier that eventful evening. The storm had arisen wholly without waming, and I had decided that I must find shelter for the night. g Suddenly a blinding flash of fire brought into high relief an old and disreputable house, which I could see had once been an imposing mansion. Now, however, it was apparently nothing more than a great, rat infested shack: but to me it was DOW a shelter. Several flashes of lightning showed me the location of the house. I approached it with all speed. Finally I gained the rickety orch and tried the door. It was locked. A sudden chill came over my soaked body: anfl: for a moment, I was stunned by this un- expected incident. As the wind in fury lashed my face, I realized that I must find shelter: so summoned all my courage and knocked loudly at the door. Instantly I fancied I heard scurrying feet and the slamming of some distant door. I waited. Nothing happened. I knocked again, louder, this time. Then the door began to open slowly. As the crack grew wider and wider, I percieved a strang, bluish light, that came from some unknown source. The door, rto my amazement, seemed to open of its own accord and not by any human agency. I started back, at this sight, with an exclamation of horror and astonishment. That dim, bluish light filled the room from floor to ceiling. Sitting directly oppo- site me, in a chair against the wall, was a stark, grim-looking skeleton. On either side of it was a closed door. In the center of the room was a small, oblong table on which there stood alcoffin-shaped box. Within the box there was-at that moment the li ht went out leaving me in total darkness. Almost instantly I felt the floor give way uniler my feet, and I felt myself sliding down a smooth, wide chute. Down, down I shot. On and on extended the slide. Would I ever reach the end? Just at that moment I came to a standstill upon some soft object, apparently a thick Emllrv-nvl