Wethersfield High School - Elm Yearbook (Wethersfield, CT)

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young God, Jim Sloane was the center of Jerry Sloane's lifeg Jerry, who had never been adored and whose weak body could never stand the strain of too great exertion. He had never understood his brotheris death. No one would tell him much about it. He had died while Jerry was in Algiers. Pneu- monia they had said. But Jerry would never believe them. Pneumonia could never kill Jim. Slowly he made his way through the streets at once so strange and so familiar, seeing not where he went, his vengeful spirit leading him on. His father had been a lawyer, successful and in the prime of life. Now Jerry found him a broken old man, his practice gone and his hair turned white by the burden of many sorrows. The old man looked up as Jerry entered the room where he was. His eyes brightened and he said simply, I'm glad to see you, son. He had seemed happy, but his expression changed at the look in Jerry's eyes. Son, I know why youlve comeg I've been expecting you. I've blundered and done wrong, but I did it all for you. I'1l have to start way back when you and Jim were boys together. You were always the weak one and you loved Jim far above all else in life. I knew that. When you were young, he fought your battles for you, and always he was near in trouble. One thing he could never do. Jim was not able to draw that fine line between right and wrong which marks the man of integrity. Jim was a fine lad, nothing can alter that, but he had not your judgment and discretion. A few weeks before I sent you to the Foreign Legion, Jim got into troubleg somehow, I never asked him about it, and he never told me. His associates have never been of the best, that much I knowg he got mixed up in a gambling dispute of some kind and in fit of anger shot and killed a man. I knew he would be convictedg there was no way out. I wanted to keep you in ignorance of your brother's crime, son, and I knew then as I know now that you would never forget your father's name. I wanted to put you where no knowledge of your brother's dis- honorable death could reach you, and in doing this I, myself, sinned. Man can only do the right as God gives him to see the right, and in the blindness of my love for you, I sinned. My own sacrifice has been nothing. I tried to keep the faith of one son whole, I failed, but no matter, I tried. People call me a failure. Perhaps they are right. But no man is entirely a failure who has tried to do his best by those he loved. The old man fell silent, and a tide of love and shame forever banished the shades of doubt from Jerry's heart. He looked out of the open win- dow. Twilight was falling, and a glorious sunset trailed its last bright banner down the western sky. God's sunset made beautiful by the promise of a new day to follow. -Barbara Wells, '28. L V ,, H- - 1

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LIONIZED For some years an adventurous spirit had urged me to become an explorer of the regions little known, and the opportunity for a trip to Africa having presented itself, no time was lost on my part in making a hurried departure for that lost continent. It had been raining all day in the tropical fashion, heavy outbursts of showers subsiding to intermittent downpours, to terminate in sunshine which was only deception, and turned to rain again as soon as We left our comfortable shelters. We were out for lions. Anyhow, my native guide was particularly expectant, but whether animals would venture out in the bad weather was a question. We beat up hill and cross heavy growth brakes, but found nothing. Then we entered a specially dark section of the brush, as was our CLlSt0m. Anyhow I began to semi-circle the area, coming up on opposite sides of the marsh. Suddenly, not three yards in front of me, I heard a low growl, and looking through the tangled Creepers, I saw one of the biggest lions on which it has ever been my opportunity to gaze. What to do? The beast commenced to lash its tail, its anger mounted. With a savage snarl, and muscles tensed, slithering jaws opened and hooked talons extended so as to make the most of a golden opportun- ity, the beast sprang at me. High and handsomely it lunged, just as I, with an instinctive movement, slid face forward to the ground. Faintly, I noticed that the lion had passed high over my head, and landed in the bushes beyond. All was silent for several moments, then curiosity prompted me to crawl back in the direction in which the beast had disappeared. Quietly I approached a small clearing, and there, with a perfect expression of humility and disgust on its face was the lion-practicing low jumps! E. Malcolm Sftllllillfd, ,28. THE LOVE OF A FATHER High in the sky the sun, a mass of molten copper, Beat mercilessly down upon the desert town, Algiers. A man dressed in the uniform of the French Foreign Legion, gazed out across the burning sands. A man free after five years in the legion of the damned, free to go his way across the sea to a far off country. Birds were singing in the trees and on the broad blue bay a thousand sparkling lights reflected the glory of the sunset, but in the heart of Jerry Sloane was the blackness of despair, the terrible thirst for vengeance of an innocent man who had suffered at the hands of one whom he had trusted. Deep in Jerry's heart burned a stifling hatred for his father. A hatred born of a fiery indignation and a deep humiliation. His father had sent him to the Foreign Legion, this much he knew, and in his un- reasoning fury, he cared not nor reasoned why. There was not much for him to live for now, with his father turned against him and his brother dead. He choked and a sob broke in his throat as he thought of the brother he had adored. Handsome as a

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' l Q THE RACE 'lWell, Jim, I'm glad thatis done! But I ean't see yet how I snapped that axle. I wasn't doing a bit over seventyf, joe Speed, the young auto racer, rolled out of the grease in the pit and lighted a cigarette. He was a young man of about twenty-five years of age, tall, slender, and exceedingly good looking. Must have been a flaw in the steel, remarked Jim Barnes, Joeis mechanic, giving a last turn to the hub cap. Wheel her out on the track while I get my gogglesf, Joe called over his shoulder as he raced toward the shed. In a few minutes he was seated in the car, listening to the roar of the twelve cylinders. After looking at the dials, he cut the steady roar of the motor, and turned to Jim. She's all set for the big race tomorrow, he said slowly, and I,vc got to win. With the 55,000 prize money, I,m going to quit. Ann and I are going to take Andy back to Hilldalef' Abruptly he stopped, let in the clutch, and slid off. I'll be back in a few minutes, he called back. im stood watchin him flash around the track. oe took the turns . g . . at top speed. In Jimls eyes was a look of admiration and envy. After ten minutes of workout, Joe drew up at his shed. Lock her up for the night, jimf' he said. I,ll probably be around again later. With this he left for his hotel. At 7 o'clock Joe entered the lobby of the Landslide Hotel. He glanced around, then started for a corner of the lobby. Ann, he called in a happy voice, I've got 'er all tuned up! I'm so gladf' Ann Pennington stood up, and Joe clasped her hands firmly in his own. She was a young girl about twenty-two years old. Her light, brown hair was stylishly bobbed. Brown eyes peeped from under long lashes. When she smiled, one caught a glance of flashing teeth. She wore a tight-clinging dress of gold, with gold pumps to match. Joe paused, stepped back, and gazed at her. Gee, he murmured, You look wonderfulf, Then in the manner of Americans he turned to more practical channels, Shall we eat?,' Yet, let's,', she answered, But I must find And ff' I I'l1 get himf' offered Joe. There he is, talking to the house detcctivef' exclaimed Ann. At that moment Andy caught sight of them and rushed over. He was a typical boy of Hfteen, whose main ambition, was to be an auto racer like Joe. Lo, sis and Joe, he called. I'm starved. Let's scofff' Andy, if you don't stop picking up new slang, I'11 send you home to motherf, warned Ann. I I