Winchester School - Oui Dire Yearbook (Pittsburgh, PA)

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50 our- DIRE A DESCRIPTION OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. Sleepy Hollow, a valley lying near the shores of the Hudson and made famous by XVashington lrving in his Sketch Book, pictures itself thus in my imagination. It is surrounded by tall walnut trees. There are many little gray and brown squirrels scrambling up the trunks of the trees or running about on the ground looking for nuts. It is very still in this small valley, Any hunter would be startled by the roar of his own gun as it would break the stillness and be prolonged by echoes. .-X small brook tiows noiselessly through it. The occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is about the only sound that breaks the uniform tranquillity. In autumn this valley is particularly beautiful. with all the leaves of the trees turning brown, red, yellow and orange against the blue of the clear sky. The small birds beginning to depart to warmer regions, are having their farewell revelry. They chirp and hop from tree to tree enjoying the festivities. Surrounding the grove are orchards of luscious-looking red apples and fields of sheaves of wheat with yellow pumpkins scattered among them. The chestnuts are be- ginning to ripen and the ground is covered with the burrs. Sometimes a flock of wild ducks can be seen flying over the tree tops. :Xt times at night the screech of the owl can be heard. The mystery of the place is increased by the legends which are told about it. They are about a soldier who had been in the Revolutionary XYar and had his head shot off. lle could be seen riding through Sleepy Hollow on his horse on dark and stormy nights. This makes people afraid to ride through the hollow at night. How- ever, taken all together, Sleepy Hollow is a verv beautiful and interesting place. I li. XV. ,I7. CYCLONE. Cyclone, the watchman for the Stuart and firaham mine, was one of the most interesting and well-known characters of Rosemont. lle was generally followed by a crowd of children, not jeering at this eccentric old ligure, as one might suppose, but thoroughly interested in the tales he always had to tell. AX stranger looking at him would have wondered that the children were allowed to be with him, for he was cer- tainly in the last state of dilapidation, and one could not imagine a more ill-kept human being. It was evident that his only shaving instrument was a pair of old shears, the neck of his shirt was always open, buttons were strangers to his overcoat, a rope generally taking their place, and, summer and winter, an old straw hat, several sizes too large, was pulled down over his ears. Cyclones hobby was collecting all kinds of rub- bish. It was no unusual sight to see him stag- gering up the hill with a huge barrel or half a tree over his shoulder. At times he would be seen without his crowd of children, but he was never deserted by the most faithful companion he could have, his dog Julius Caesar. If one could see through Caesar's many years' accumu- lation of dirt, they would find a thorough-bred English bull. Although harmless, Cyclone was undoubtedly crazy. According to him, he was in turn President of the United States, the Kaiser's most intimate friend, and lerome's legal adviser: in fact, at one time or another, he had been practically every prominent man one hears or reads about. K Une day early in May, Mr. Stuart very un- willingly allowed his daughter to go through the mine with only a miner in attendance. He him- self was not able to go that day. Cyclone from the door of the old abandoned street car, where Caesar and he kept bachelor apartments, watched her disappear into the great black hole with no small forebodings, for Miss Shirley had been a favorite of his from the time she wore short dresses. Presently Caesar, who had been nosing around the entrance to the mine, began to sniff the air suspiciously, giving short barks. until he linally attracted his master's attention by a low growl. Realizing something was wrong, Cyclone went to the entrance. For a moment terror struck his heart when the deadlv odor of mine damp reached him. Not hesitating an in- stant, he dashed into the black tunnel. On and on he rushed, with never a thought but that his beloved Miss Shirley was somewhere in that dreadful blackness. All the time faithful Caesar bounded at his heels. Then a deafening explo- sion was heard, Turning into a still narrower passage Caesar rushed ahead, then stopped and gave short staccato barks. In an instant Cyclone was bending over a motionless white form. Miss Shirley had been deserted by her guide. Stoop- ing he lifted her in his arms, and began to re- trace his steps. Blinded and almost exhausted. he stumbled along with his limp burden. Final- ly a small ray of light appeared. Gathering all his strength together in one last supreme effort. he lunged forward through the opening into sun- light and life. Une afternoon late in August the golfers on the Rosemont course were very much interested in watching the maneuvers of an airship that N

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OUT- l 3 I R lf 49 was Bobbie and that he was 'tgoing-on-seven years old. He had been a cripple ever since his infancy when he had been dropped by a careless nurse and had twisted his legs. He said that his sister and he were the only people left in his family and that she went every morning to teach in a kindergarten for a living. XVhile she was away, he entertained himself by watching the people go by. XYhen she came home from work. they had many enjoyable times together, reading and playing quiet games. Although the pain was much greater some days than others. I never saw him cross or heard him say a disagreeable word. Then one morning as l passed, I saw no cheery face at the window, and all the rest of the day I thought of all the misfortunes that might have happened to him. Un my way home I went in to inquire the cause of his absence. His sister rec- ognized me as the man of whom llobbie had often spoken, She said that the little cripple had not been well that morning and had remained in bed all day. She had had one of the neighbors come in to keep him company while she was away. Later she had called in a physician and he had seemed very worried over the child's condition. From then on Bobbie never sat in the window, for he kept growing worse and his poor little face became thinner and paler. Une day when I went in to inquire for him, I was told that he had died the night before, holding his sister's hand and smiling until the last. I shall never forget this child whose loving heart and sweet disposition ruled him even in the most extreme pain. A. H. ,I7. SAMMY'S PEKINESE. Sammy was a little boy about nine years old. He had dark curly hair and large blue eyes which looked up at one with a wistful air as though he always longed for something. Sammy's mother took in washing but she could not make enough money to give Sammy the one thing he wanted most in all the world. Sammy wanted a dog, not the kind that runs around the poorer streets half fed, and very hungry, but a very different kind. Ile had seen a picture once in a magazine of a little low-set dog with a pug nose and long hair, with the name Pekinesel' under it. This was the kind of dog Sammy wished for, but as I have said before, they were too expensive for Sammv's to buy. - morning Sammy rose before his mother, and with a little money he had been hoarding for many years, set out to a newspaper plant, Where he bought as many papers as his money mother One allowed and started out to sell them. Ile was such a sturdy, lovable little lad that many peo- ple bought his papers just to see his face light up when they gave him his pennies. They did not know that every penny Sammy took, brought him nearer to his dog! As soon as his papers were sold, he rushed home and proudly showed his money to his astonished mother. .Nt first she did not like the idea of her son selling papers, but when she saw how happv he was in doing it and that the wistful look was leaving his eyes, she consented. Y As the mornings went by, the bowl in which Sammy's money was kept, grew fuller and fuller. Still the dog was a long way off because the crock would have to overflow many times before thc dog could be bought, Sammy was growing he kept patients as he was leav- whimpering as and Sammy saw fence. .Xt once came from this, disheartened because of this, but ly on. Une cold winter morning ing his home, he heard a dog though it suffered with the cold a dark spot on the snow by the he went to see if the whimpering and with a wild shout of joy he picked the object up. lt was a dog with a pug nose, and bow legs, and long hair. His joy passed as swiftly as it came, for he saw the dog wore a collar. lhe thought came to him that if he would take the collar otf, nobody would know whose dog it was, lflowever, he put this thought aside, and a very sad little boy started out to lind the home of the runaway dog. Ile found the address without much trouble and saw that trunks were being carried out and that people were bustling around inside as though they were closing the house. It was a very large place and Sammy was a little afraid to ring the back door bell. .-Xs soon as he did, he found himself in a large kitchen confronted by a large cook who was smiling down at him. lle gave her the dog without a word and started to leave the room, but she stopped him and gave him something to eat. This kindness and the thought of leaving the dog was too much for Sammv and he burst into tears, sobbing out to the cook his whole longing for the dog. Silent- lv the woman left the room, soon reappearing with her mistress, who asked Sammy to repeat all he had said. At the end of his story she told him that she was just leaving the city and that she would be only too glad to give one of her ljeeks to Sammy because she had two dogs and one was all she wished to take with her. Sammy, after thanking her again and again, permitted her to kiss him ta privilege which he seldom gaveb and, with the dog tightly held in his arms, ran home. M. D. YI7.

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OUI- 1 HIRE 5r hovered over them. Presently to their great sur- prise it landed almost at the steps of the club- house, A clean-cut, well built, young man, with a foreign air, stepped out and inquired if any one knew the whereabouts of Dr. Maitland. It was an unfamiliar name, but a moment later he added that he was sometimes called Cyclone. Immediately a chorus of voices informed him that the little old man lived in an abandoned street car. The little party that offered to guide him there, gave in full detail the account of his heroic deed of a few months before. Une could imagine their astonishment when, the old man having appeared at the door of the house, the young aviator rushed toward him, crying. Father. For days Rosemont talked of nothing else but of the wonderful discovery that the famous surgeon, who had disappeared several years be- fore, was found to be none other than their little old mine watchman. L. N. '17. AN INTERESTING TALE. On a high cliff overlooking the sea stands a small one-story cabin with several windows and a large open door. By this door sits an old man, his head bent as he busily whittles a toy ship out of a piece of wood. His mind is not on this, as one may well see, for he mum- bles to himself while he works. He is awakened from his reverie by the ap- proach of a group of merry children who im- mediately demand a story. He laughs to him- self as if well pleased, for to-day he has de- cided to tell them the story of his life. ' Once upon a time a boy with a bundle in his arms one night stole quietly away from his home to seek his fortune. He walked all night and for many days afterwards, until one even- ing at sunset he came to the city. How good it looked to him at his first glimpse of it! This impression did not last long. After many days of searching for work he came upon a group of sailors in the street. He made their acquaint- ance, and before he knew it, he was sailing out from the harbor towards the sea. I-Ie traveled through many ports of the world, saw all kinds of peoples and races, and had many various adventures. Once he had been chased by Chinese piratesg another time he had been for days becalmed in 'the tropics? still another time he had barely escaped drown- ing by shipwreckg in many a storm had he been and he wondered if he should ever see his home again. Une night he thought all hope of ever returning home was lost, because the ship was sinking fast. They were rescued after many hours, and from that time forth he de- termined to settle at last in his peaceful home. As he grew older he was promoted from one olilice to another, until at last he was captain of a fine vessel. He now had a chance to visit his home again, but he did not care to go, for strangers lived there now and his family was all scattered. At last he thought of a quiet spot near the sea, where he could build a house. He went there, and now tells stories to some nice children whom he likes very much. XYe like th-at story best of all, said the children, because we know it is true, and we are coming again to-morrow. The old man did not hear them, for he was again back at sea, lost in memories recalled by telling his story. M. S., '17, MY DREAM GARDEN. One afternoon last summer as I was weed- ing in the fiower garden, I began to think of the garden of my dreams. with its lovely old stone wall all soft and mossy with age. At the right of the gate the birds live. The robin has her nest in the crooked old apple tree, and the bluebird in the dead branch of the pear tree. while the catbirds and the song sparrows build in the shrubs along the inside of the wall. :Xt the left of the gate is the big chestnut tree, where the squirrels have their home: of course they are gray squirrels, for there must be no fighting among the inhabitants of my garden. Nothing will grow under the old chestnut tree but strawberries, and they think it is an ex- cellent place to live in, and so does the little field sparrow who feels a tritle shy among her aristocratic neighbors. Looking down the green carpeted path through rose hedges and pergolas, one sees a garden seat over which clematis and blue ipomoea grow in profusion. Still farther down the path through this arch of blue and white, stands the old sun dial in all its dignity, on a green carpet with a border of merrilv laughing Howers who, I am sure, leave their beds some nights to dance with the fairies on the velvety Carpet, for in the morning are found in untidy confusion their forgotten party icapes that Arachne had so skilfully spun for them. To the left of the sun dial is the children's corner, where they can play without feeling