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THE CAMPUS. MIRROR
5
H I G H S C H O O L PAGE
A DREAM
By WlLHF.LMINA Bf.DGOOD
I wandered in a park, eating a
roll, until my eyes lingered on a tree
which, holding out its branchy
arms, seemed to say, “Come, wan
derer. and rest. My branches and
leaves will shelter you.’’ The nearer
I came to the tree, the more sleepy
I became. I sat among the fallen
leaves under that tree, and fell
asleep. While I slept, I dreamed
that I was scrutinizing every tree,
when suddenly the trees vanished,
and in their places stood seven de
mons.
The first said, “You are mine, be
cause you have lied!”
The second said, “You are mine,
because you have been a betrayer.
The third said. “You belong to me, because
you have stolen.”
The fourth said, “You belong to me, for
you have murdered!”
The fifth said, “You are mine, because you
have been a gambler.”
The sixth said, “Ha! You are mine, be
cause you have hated mankind.”
The seventh said, “You are wholly mine,
because you have had a cold heart for every
thing.”
All cried, “She is mine!” and contradicting
each other, they began to attack one another.
I felt something heavy on my breast, and
lifting my hands towards heaven, I cried, “O
God!” Before the word “God” was entirely
out of my mouth, the demons vanished, and
I awoke to find seven pigeons eating the
crumbs in my hand.
Moon, big yellow moon,
How I would love to know you better!
If I were a bird,
I’d fly until I could feel you with my wings.
—Annie Franklin.
* * *
As the sun reddens the grayish clouds, I be
come bashful and about as small as a flea. \\ hat
is my work? —Lynettf. Sainf..
* * *
Last night as I was watching the fire in the
fireplace lick the big logs, and roar up the
chimney, I had a funny feeling, as if a gar
ment were thrown about me. \ cry soon I found
myself building air castles of all stages of my
future life. It seemed as if I could feel the
good and the bad stages of my future trickle
through my blood. When I came to myself the
garment had been lifted from around me, and
my thoughts scattered.
—Frankie Thomas.
1929-1930
By Thelma Brock
Little Baby New Year
Comes rollicking around.
Exit! old year, stern and gray,
Bearded and profound.
Baby New Year, blithe and gay
Comes to take your place;
We prefer his merry laugh
To your wise and tired face.
Exit, old year, stern and gray,
With wise and tired face!
Baby New Year has come now
To take your place.
The advanced Bible Class of Spelman Sun
day School is giving a Christmas play in
Morehouse south reception room Sunday
morning, December 22, at 9 o'clock and re
peating it Sunday afternoon at 4 o’clock at
the Leonard Street Home.
First Two Minutes On Christ
mas Morning—A Picture of
Four Spelman Girls
By Clara Haywood
1. A solitary figure stood before the win
dow, her hands clasped together on her
breast. Suddenly her figure grew tense and
she leaned forward as if listening to some
far-away sound. Sinking to the floor be
side the window, she pressed her ear to
the sill. Faintly, as from a great distance,
came the words, “Peace on earth, good will
among men.” It died away in the distance,
and only the tick-tick of the clock on her
small table broke the infinite silence.
2. Jumping from the bed, she danced
across the room to the victrola and placing a
record on it, proceeded to dance a wild dance,
in the dawn, filled with the joy of living and
with utter freedom.
3. Only the curly hlack head, partly en
veloped in warm pink covers, and four fin
gers could be seen of her. Presently she
turned over, yawned like a huge sleepy cat.
and drew herself up from amid the covers.
She let her eyes wander about the room
until they rested on a large calendar on
which was marked in huge red numbers,
twenty-five. The numbers themselves were
INTRODUCTION TO
WINTER
The announcer of seasons takes
his stand on the stage. December
first, and makes the following an
nouncement :
“I take great pleasure in introduc
ing to you Mr. Winter, who will
entertain you for the next three
months.”
Soft music, then, louder, louder,
louder, until the vibration becomes
so great that people wrap their
coats and walk firmly, lest they be
cast hither and thither. Oh! No
wonder ! Mr. Wind is playing on the
leaves. But soon the music induces
everyone to slumber.
When the people awaken, it is
very evident that Mr. Winter is on the stage.
The leaves, worn out from such violent vi
bration, lie lifeless on the ground. How sad
the poor trees are ! They begin to weep for
their dear dead friends. Winter with his cold
stern character, has no sympathy for the
trees; his actions are so cold that they make
the tears freeze in hanging drops.
“Whe-ee-er! Whe-ee-er!” shrieks Win
ter, as his ghostly white figure dashes from
one side of the stage to the other. His long
honey arm projects in front of him. He car
ries a wand. Everything becomes stiff, pale
and lifeless at his approach. Green blades of
grass stand upright in astonishment, then
fall to the ground, dead.
At last everything is ghostly white, crys
tallized and still, except for the groans which
Winter continues to make. He is playing his
part.
SONGS WITHOUT TITLES
By Evelyn Pittman, ’33
The author of these songs would like for the
subscribers to the Campus Mirror to suggest
titles for them. The best titles suggested will
be accepted. Place on a slip of paper; (1) The
number of the song, (2) The title you suggest,
(3) your own name. Give this vote to Mabel
Docket, Assistant Editor-in-Chief of the Cam
pus Mirror.
(Songs are on Page 12)
meaningless, hut glancing farther, she no
ticed that the month was December. Fling
ing the remaining covers from her body,
she sprang from the bed, yawned again and
remarked with a heavy sigh, “Christmas
again. I wonder if I have many presents?
Oh, hum!”
4. “Get up, you lazy girl! Don’t you realize
that this is Christmas?” were the words ad
dressed by a half dozen pajama-dad figures
to a tousled headed person in bed, who
yawned, stretched, yawned, and then turned
over again to murmur sleepily, “What do I
care? I'm sleepy.”