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ANOTHER WORLD
Just the other day I had the most bizarre, but
delightful experience. It was one of those heavy,
depressing days - the rain streaked hopelessly
from the despairing, bleak sky to the drowned
earth. It was one of those days when one lives
mechanically as if in a dream, the whole world
being dead or asleep. I listlessly wandered into my
library, just as listlessly drew a dull-looking book
from the shelf, and dropped into a comforting
chair. Mechanically I looked at the cover. In cold,
black letters I read, "Adventures In Contentment"
by David Grayson. Nothing registered in my sullen
mind; I didn't even see what I had read. When
I opened the cover however, I seemed to pass, as
Alice did, from one world to another.
Like a winter sunset, the old world faded fast
away, and I found myself buying a farm with an
old friend, whom I had just met, David Grayson.
Together we experienced the joy of possession;
together we "entertained an agent unawares;" to–
gether we basked in the contentment and beauties
of nature. Together we worked and became kings
of all that we saw, smelled, heard, and felt. We
lost ourselves working in the golden fields. We ran
our hands through the moist, clean, sweet-smelling
earth. We stopped to listen to the clear rapture of
a bird. We felt the shadows creep in silently
across the field as the fiery chariot, casting linger–
ing darts of yellow and orange across the cool
and fathomless azure heavens, was slowly driven
behind the neighboring hill. There was a tingling
in my body as I looked at David and smiled the
thought that he was thinking, "There is no place
I would rather be than here."
Reluctantly I turned to leave this world, bidding
farewell to David, Horace, Harriet, and my com–
panions in contentment. "Parting is such sweet
sorrow," thought I as I closed the door behind me,
but the door must have come ajar, because they
did not leave me. They are still my constant com–
panions.
With a smile, I put the book on the table and
looked out the window. The sun was shining.
-Walter Craves '37
. -62-
HOUSECLEANING MY HEART
This has been a busy day
Cleaning out my heart;
So many trifles buried there
I found it hard to start.
First I blew the dream-dust off
The place was thickly spread
With silver wings of lovely hours
That long ago lay dead.
Wishes, odd and out of date,
Plans, at least a score.
And here and there a tangled heap
Of worries on the floor.
Ruthlessly I brushed them out
Supposing I was through,
When suddenly I came upon
A little thought of you!
It was a wistful, tender thought,
I really didn't dare.
I softly closed the crimson door
And left it hidden there.
- Betty Jane Loomis '37
•
THE BIRDS RETURN
The birds are coming back again,
I hear the robins call;
And blue-jays singing loud in vain ,
Above the high stone wall.
The sun shines warmer day by day.
And skies are brighter blue;
The snow in patches melts away,
To let the green grass through .
The trees bloom out with leaves again,
Where birds will hide their nests;
To shelter fledglings from the rain
And night-time find their rest.
-Wayne Keck ' 40