Wilson Central School - Crest Yearbook (Wilson, NY)

Page 11 text:

“May I depend upon yon” he whispered. His answer was a cheery smile, a slight nod of the head and a gentle kiss upon the cheek. The young soldier smiled and closed his eyes. He had done his bit for France and now he could die in peace. The boy cautiously crept ,baclc to the ruins, and then to the meadows. He must reach the General, and it was upon this errand that we first saw him as he stepped from his hiding place by the side of the road. He did not realize that he was so near to the end of his journey until he was ordered to halt by an unseen friend. The boy did as he was commanded and stepped forward. The guard smiled, and asked what he wanted. The boy said that he wanted to see the General. The guard laughed, but finally consented, after looking at his sad and sorrowful face. He then directed him to the place w'here he might find the man, to whom the message was to be delivered. As he finished his message a puzzled look crossed the face of the General. Could it be true? Could this lrd know what he was saying? He would investigate. He did so and found that the boy’s statement was correct. A large detachment of French soldiers was soon on the way to check the movement of the enemy and a great victory was soon added to the credit of the noble French. Had it not been for the little boy the advance would not have been checked, and thus the Huns would have driven the French back. Was the litle lad proud? Why shouldn’t he be, he had done his bit for France. M. D. ’19. A. Dream. The other night I had the queerest dream and as it was all ;.bout members of the Senior class 1 thought it might interest you. My dream was sort of confusing as dreams are you know and perhaps it will be difficult to follow me in my travels thru Dreamland, however, I will try and be as explicit as possible.

Page 10 text:

His curly locks hung loosely over his shoulders in great tumbled masses. His eyes were of a bright, shiny blue and seemed full of laughter and sunshine, Still upon a closer examination they show'ed a trace of sorrow and suffering. His mouth was very small and delicate, slightly turned up at the corners. His chin was rounded as though it had been placed in a mould. His left sleeve hung loosely at his side, showing that one of his arms had been removed. The same German bomb that had crippled the little lad, had also been the cause of the death of his mother and little sister. His father had been killed some time before while in the service for France, and his brother a young man of eighteen had been wounded a few weeks later, after taking his father’s place. The young man was now in a base hospital. Was there any wonder that the little fellow’s eyes showed a trace of sorrow? His faithful old dog was all that he had left. Although his bare feet were sore and bleeding and his heart nearly broken with grief, he could not give up. He must push ahead with as much speed as his little tired limbs would allow, for he had a message for the General. This lie must carry without delay. Nearly twenty-four hours before, a large body of German Infantry passed through 'this town where once had been the home of many happy people, but was now a pile of scattered and uninhabited ruins. The heartless Huns had destroyed the entire village some time before by bombs dropped from aeroplanes. As the body of Germans halted in the ruined tow'n to rest and refresh themselves by a drink from a well in the center of the mass of ruins, the little lad, from his hiding place, discovered a young man in the uniform of a French soldier. The boy curiously crept forward and discovered that the the young man had been severely wounded. He had fallen to the ground never to arise again, and his captors, knowing that he could be of no further service to France, left him there. The boy crept nearer and as the young soldiers’ eyes fell upon him, his face brightened. He now realized that perhaps there was still hope of saving the dispatch, which had been entrusted to him, delivered to the General. Still he knew that there was much danger for he apprehended the cruelty of his captors. It was his only chance, so he feebly beckoned to the boy to draw near. The boy did so, and he told him the nearest way to reach the camp where the General was located. The young man paused. He closed his eyes. Then feebly opened them and looked directly into the face of the little fellow.

Page 12 text:

The first part of my dream Is rather hazy for all that I can recollect Is a very large (building thronged with people. I found myself pushing my way thru the crowd to a seat toward the front. In a short time the curtain rose and amid great applause out stepped a young lady who began to sing most sweetly. I gazed intently at this person trying to place her and I at last recognized her as Esther Johnson. It surprised me very much to think of Esther singing and I lingered until the very last so as not to miss a single note. The image of Esther’s face was still impressed upon my mind as I went into the street and I suppose it was this which made me start so suddenly upon hearing my name called. I turned and saw whom do you think—none other than Frances Marks. She was hurrying toward me as fast as possible while five small children followed close at her heels. She informed me with a sigh that she was completely worn out and advised me never to marry a widower. She asked me if I would not like to accompany her to the circus, as that was where she and the children were going. I declined at first but afterwards accepted when I learned that Cora Anderson was to be one of the chief performers. Cora was wonderful and performed some daring stunts. While watching her my attention was suddenly arrested by the appearance of a short stocky man with a black mustache coming toward me. He was drawing a large basket filled with bushes and shrubs which he seemed to be selling. I called Frances’ attention to him and she said, “Why don’t you know that is Charlie Pettit.” I soon left the circus tent and was walking about the grounds when I heard a voice at my left which sounded vaguely familiar cry sharply “Hairpins lady, Hump hairpins for sale.” Turning 1 encountered the personage of Lucile Campbell. I stopped and talked with her for a few minutes and she told me she had found her vocation at last. She also informed me of the great success of her old friend Grace Wakeman as an artist. I now went on my way wondering whom I should meet next when I noticed a tall lady whose gapb I recognized as that of a Deaconess’ coming toward me with outstretched hands. It was Doris Swick. Of course I was pleased to see her and she asked me if I had heard the news about Helen Coulter. I hadn’t and she went on to relate that Helen had turned out to be a noted chemist and was Mrs. Blake’s pride and joy as she had discovered the Philosophers’ Stone. I next wended my way to a restaurant for lunch. I was waiting to be served when I just happened to glance casually toward the