Winchester School - Oui Dire Yearbook (Pittsburgh, PA)

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53 oUr-DIRE they will lltll'l any llowers, I do not mean to sav-tl1e1'e are no tlowers there. Uh, yes, there sweetpeas and llZlSlIll'llllll1S cling to the wall. and pansies and linglish daisies a11d the kind 11fll11XXe1's cl1il1lren love to pick. Last of all is the corner to the right of the SUIT dial, where there is a stone seat beside the little stream that lost her way and came running in under the wall, but t11r11ed right around Zllltl we11t stumltling o11t over some stones. .-Xnd there's pansies, that's for thought, Zlllfl there's rose- niarv, that's for l'Clllk'llllll'LllICL'.H i R. .X., '17, THE LOST CHORD. XX'ithin a great cathedral, where llllll and quiet shadows fell over a few scattered pe11i- lL'lllS kneeling in silent prayer. sat an organist. ,Xlone with tl1e keys-idly l1is lingers strayed. striking here and there a note, 11 chord,-his INl1Itl far away groping, groping for a thoughtl and still his fingers wandered, as he too bowed his head i11 prayer. Xkvhile thus in silent communion with his tlod, a wondrous beam front the setting' sun F-lltbllk' through the great stained-glass wi11dows. and fell 11po11 l1i111, fill- ing the erstwhile dim a11d silent church witl1 soft and radiant beauty. XYith swelling heart and tear-dimmed eyes, again his lingers fell upon the keys, and there was born a marvelous, heavenly Sl.I'IllIl, such as no lIltJl'lQIll had ever .Xhnost prostrate with ineffable joy, the organist tried with all his powers to repro- heard. tlllCC the chord. Une by o11e all the combina- tions he had ever known fell from his trem- bling hands. lltllll'5 passed, days, years, tl1e niusician grew l'l'4PlN young 1na11l1ood to old age. and l1is supreme tliought flllll ambition was still totindhis l'.ost Lil1o1'1l, WhiCh,i11 0110 tleeting nionient had been born, a11d l1ad as swiftly l'Cll1l'llL'll to its heavenly source. II. L., 'I7. THE WOMAN ON THE MOUNTAIN. I'o1' hours we had been riding along the trail that led up the mountain side. NYe had hoped to reach the Hgllllllllll il louse but hour by hour this hope had become fainter lllllll all we now de- sired was shelter for tl1e night. At last we espied a light amid the glooni of the trees and we urged our weary horses forward. .ks we rode up to the floor, my brotlier remarked that he hoped we would spt,-111l tht night' here. l hoped so too be- cause we -.ve1'e so tired Zllltl the night air was ex- tremely cold. Wfell, we could only ask for a night's lodging and abide by the answer. In re- sponse to Dick's knock the door was opened by a little woman. She peered anxiously out at us and I suppose was convinced of our harmlessness, for after a l'l'lOllICHtiS hesitation she requested us in a very kindly 1I'lEtII1'lC1' to come in. XVe had be- come so used to the rough tones and manners of the mountain people that we were startled by the contrast of this polite request. The room into which we were invited was a sight to rest people even as tired as we were. It was long and low and at one end a blazing log tire sent out a cheerful warmth. Except for the light TTOIII the burning embers the room was in darkness, but our hostess made haste to light two high candles that stood on the mantle. She seemed to realize that we wished to spend the night, for as she dropped the taper into the tire she said, XYon't you'take off your wraps and sit by the fire while I get you a bite to eat XYithout another word she hurried into the next room where we could see her hurrying around prepar- ing supper. Soon the savory odor of browning bacon fllld strong coffee could be smelt and pres- ently our hostess brought in a jug of milk and a plate of snowy bread to be toasted at the fire. .-Ns she re-entered she smiled and said, Oh. I know what is wanted by the people that come here on their way to the Slllllllllt. Many people used to stop here several years ago b11t now the people don't seem to care any more to follow the trail. For the tirst ti111e I looked at her closely. She was very little and slight and quick in all l1er movements. Irler hair was soft and gray, and the eyes beneath were kee11 and very blue and seemed to see everything. .Xfter supper was over, Dick turned to Mrs. XYillard-this we had learned was lIC1' name- a11d said, Are yo11 all alone here, Mrs XVilla1'd P The little lady shook her head and stepping to tl1e door, whistled shrilly. In a IHOIIISIII a large collie dog appeared at her side. Here is my companion, sir: and a Fine o11e he is, she said as she closed the door and returned to her chair by the tire. The dog followed and lay down by her side. XVe talked of many things and finally drew the following story from her: just twenty-seven years ago she had come out froni the old country with her husband. She was a bride then and life was f11ll of promise. jim and sl1e had made a home for themselves in a city of the middle west and for two years all went well. Tl1Cll one evening at dusk .lim came and told her they had to leave the city before morn- ing. I-le had brought her away up here i11to the N 3

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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

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OUT -I IRE 53 mountains and again she had arranged their home. That was one spring, and the next fall a stranger had come one evening to the cabin and talked to ,lim until far into the night. The next day when the stranger rode away -lim went with him, and, just before they started, he told her that it might be a long time before he returned home but she should wait there for him. He had not yet returned. She had waited there for twenty- five years and was still waiting for him to come llO11lG. Despite the years that had passed, she still believed that he would one day come up the trail from the world he had gone to. Mlhen the story was hnished we sat in silence. XVhat was there to say? Next day we rode on and followed the trail that leads to the summit and then descends to the valley again. Xyith us went the memory of the little cabin half way up the mountain and the woman waiting so hopefully for her husbands return. Mfould she be disappointed? XYho could tell? E. G. IE. '17. A SNOWSTORM. Everywhere was silence. heavy brooding si- lence. The earth was frozen and bare, highways lay hardened into ridges and the creek bottom be- spoke the relentless hand of lack Frost. The trees stood erect and motionless like sentinels, their little twigs, wont to dance so merrily in the breeze. poised now as if on tiptoe. All was ex- pectation. Even the air held its breath. A great hawk came circling down and alighted silently on a giant spruce. In the west, dark ominous piles of clouds slowly assumed fantastic shapes as they drew nearer and nearer. Complete silence, then a tiny snowflake floated lazily through the air, then another and another. heralds of the approaching storm, Faster and faster they came, whirling, skipping, dancing, tripping, blotting out the landscape by their very numbers. Descending, they covered the bare arms of the trees and mantled the earth in a robe of ermine and sifted themselves daintily into every available nook and cranny. On and on they came, penetrating, fairylike and noiseless. Slowly and more slowly they fell until they Ceased altogether. The landscape was trans- formed as if by a magic wand. The earth had exchanged her drab coat of early winter for one of ermine. Sharp contrasts were softened by bil- lows of glistening snow. Trees and small shrubs were laden to the ground with their burden of sparkling gernsg even the giant spruce was D crowned with a diadem of jewels. The hawk, huddled close to the trunk of the old spruce dur- ing the recent flurry, shook himself and, spread- ing his great wings, soared away. The scene he left behind him was one of beauty, tranquillity, and silence. R. lfl. '17, MARIA. hlaria dances into l'welfth Night, and in fact all through the play, like the mischief-loving little imp that she is. Her black eyes snap and utterly fail to conceal the coquetry and pranks which are the delight of her small person and for which even her sedate manner and prim speeches are insuflicient disguise. Clever and adroit in the management of her associates, she displays the diplomacy of a statesman and with all a loving heart, in spite of the amusement she is afforded by her little affair with Malvolio when through her cunning he makes such a fool of himself by displaying his conceit and gullibility. Many times her bright face peeps out with a sauciness which adds charm to this attractive comedy. In the end Maria marries Sir Toby llelch, another character in Twelfth Night. How with a sportful malice it was follow'dg May rather pluck on laughter than revengeg lf that the inquiries be justly weigh'd, That have on both sides pass'd. G .xr 'l7. THE MIDNIGHT FEAST. Two years before the time of this story a club had been organized in Miss l1rown's lioarding School. It was called the -lolly Six Club and consisted of Kitty Gordon, Eleanor King, llelle Smith, julia Kelly, Delia Hope and Elsie Martin who were the best of friends. Elsie Martin had moved out west because of her mother's health, but still remained a mem- ber. The girls kept her informed from time to time of what was going on at school. They were all sorry that she was not here now be- cause they had decided to have a midnight feast. The party was to be in a vacant store- room on the fourth floor. The girls had planned to go to bed at nine o'clock, the usual hour, and then to get up at eleven o'clock for the party. flow they man- aged to awaken at eleven o'clock nobody knows, but they did, and after much stumbling in the dark they were hnally ready to meet at the end of the hall, which was not far from