Wright High School - Chronicle Yearbook (New Orleans, LA)

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And hot, too ! exclaimed Hard- ins, ' . Aw, keep still, you ' ll forget all about the heat when you see the girls ! Jove, it ' s beginning now, the orchestra is going to play ! Oh, boy! I bet Daisy looks swell! Harding stood up as the orches- tra played America and gazed at the stage with its decoration of palms and ferns. Why had he come? Why had he not remained in his room perusing his Latin books or his Trig. ? Even that was better than sitting in a room of hot, stuffy people, preparatory to hear- ing several addresses and essays. Why had he come? As he sat down. Bill nudged him. The grad- uates were entering. Small girls, tall girls, blondes, brunettes, slim girls, fat girls, they interested Harding not a particle, and not until the were seated on the platform did he actually glance at them. ' ' That ' s Daisy — the small blonde one, seated exactly in the middle of the first row, whis- pered Bill. Absently Harding turned his eyes upon her, but they never reached that far, for his gaze halted abruptly upon the face of the girl next to her. Harding ' s heart beat strangely ! He, the Sphinx as the boys had nicknamed him, hadn ' t been the least interested in girls be- fore. But this one, well, she was different ! Dressed in old rose and silver, her dark eyes sparkling, with excitement, a band of silver ribbon wound about her curly hair, long, well-rounded arms, white hands, one of which held a bouquet of pink rosebuds, she presented a picture any artist would have given his very life to paint. What a girl ! breathed Harding softly, old rose and silver ! Fascinated he gazed upon her. Oh, to learn her name, to meet her, to speak to her! Harding would have given all his possessions to do this. Eagerly he awaited the time whence the distribution of the diplomas should take place, so as to learn her name. Miss Daisy Annalee Riley! said the speaker. A ' hereas Miss Daisy Annalee Riley arose smiling, to receive her diploma. Unfortunately Harding was doomed to disappointment, for the burst of applause which greeted Miss Riley ' s presentation was long and loud, and completely drowned out the name which he longed so to hear. An instant later the old rose and silver girl had her diploma I and he had not learned her identity. Just like me! he muttered grimly. This is my hard luck again ! No sooner do I see the girl of my dreams, than she proves to be as distant and unattainable as the stars above ! Once more down the aisle marched the graduates, the old rose and silver girl passed quite close to Harding, and she was gone! Vanished like a beautiful dream forever out of his life, it seemed.

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THE OLD ROSE AND SILVER GIRL BY VIRGINIA TETE can ' t you come to of the girls ' high ' Say, Hardie, the graduation school tonight, with me? These words were the first ones which fell upon the ear of Harding Connor, as he picked up the tele- phone after its impatient ringing. ' ' Aw, Bill, what ' s the use? re- plied Connor, rather sadly. ' T don ' t know anyone in this town, least of all any of the girls who are gradu- ating. So why should I go? ' ' That ' s just the reason why you don ' t know anyone, retorted Bill savagely, you won ' t go anywhere, so how can you expect to meet peo- ple? Chuck the old books and come along — I don ' t want to go alone! And say — you know that cute girl I was talking about — Daisy Riley — well, she ' s in the graduating class. And if ever a girl was a peach she ' s one! Come on! I ' ll stop by for you at eight! Well, all right then, repHed Harding slowly. He replaced the receiver upon the hook and turned to remount the college stairs. After all, anything was better than remaining in the dormitory, night after night, when all the other students were out with their dates or having other good times. Life seemed very lonely to Harding Connor, away from home, in a new college, among new peo- ple, and seeing new customs and new sights. Rather a hard boy to understand, he had not made many friends in his college days. With his Northern mien and accent, he appeared to be cold and reserved, and most of the other students kept as well out of his way as they could. That is, everyone except one Wil- liam Woodward, another Tulane student, better known as Bill, left him alone. A warm friendship ensued between these two entirely different boys. The stranger — tall, black-haired, gray-eyed, and tanned — the other — blonde-haired, blue- eyed, and of medium height, were also entirely different in disposition. Bill was fun-loving, gay, and happy- go-lucky, while Harding presented a disposition exactly opposite : seri- ous, steady, and passionate, with a wealth of deep feeling and thought. The hall was rather crowded as Harding and Bill entered, but they were fortunate enough in securing two seats well up towards the front. Quite a crowd here, remarked Bill, gazing back at the sea of faces.

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Gone but not forgotten. Dimly he heard Bill ' s voice and felt the touch of Bill ' s hand upon his shoulder. Come on, Hardie, what are you waiting for? To be locked up in this place? The girl! Who was she? asked Harding, dreamily. Girl? Which one? There were one hundred and twenty-five grad- uating. The one next to Miss Riley. Huh, I didn ' t notice any of the others. Daisy ' s good enough for me! Two weeks later the college term had drawn to a close, bringing with it the completion of Harding ' s Junior year. Harding was up in his room packing his valise preparatory to leaving college. The plan was for him to spend a month at Bill ' s country home in Hammond before returning to his lonely home up North with his uncle. As he was placing the last of the clothes into the valise, a program fell from one of the pockets. My old rose and silver girl ! he murmured. His eyes were dreamy and pensive as he fingered the only connecting link between him and the girl — a graduation program ! With a sigh he placed it in his left vest pocket and closed the valise. • • » A country road, a fine horse, a wide-awake young American. Thus the scene presented itself the great day that was to make such a vast difference in Harding ' s future life. He had been riding for the great- er part of the afternoon and, as it was nearing dinner timei, he turned the horse ' shead about. Jock, the best horse in the Wood- ward ' s stable, was only too will- ing to turn homewar d to his hay and fodder. Suddenly Jock rear- ed and his ears stood up very straight. Hi, Jock! cried Harding. Steady, old boy! Nothing ' s wrong ! He soon changed his mind though. The clatter of hoofs, a piercing scream, a young girl clasp- ing a horse ' s neck, told of a run- away, and ' ere many moments had passed the pair sped by. Let ' s save her, Jock! cried Harding, giving the horse a re- sounding blow. Jock, unaccus- tomed to blows of any sort, snorted and raced madly after the runaway. Only ten feet away from them, and with a scream the girl released her hold and fell to the ground while the horse sped on. In a mo- ment Harding was down on the ground, the girl ' s face in his arms. As he raised her, her hat fell off and Harding started as he gazed at her. Old rose and silver girl ! he cried. It was she! With trembling hands he lifted her head and leaned it against his shoulder. She was breathing ! But what to do ? They were a goodi five miles from any settlement and he most certainly could not carry her that far if she