A composition again! Oh, dear!
How many must we write in a year?
Book reports, special topics, and all that;
Sometimes I don't know where I'm at.

As soon as one thing is out of the way,
And you're planning for a restful day,
As sure as fate some teacher'll say:
"Now look that up ere the close of day."

It seems as though I'll ne'er get through,
I wonder if others have troubles too;
My studies fall over each other pellmell --
Dear me! There goes the high school bell!

A.N.

Life

Another year has passed from view,
Another link we add to memory's chain;
Mayhap, the fleeting year has brought to you
Some blessing on Life's rugged main.
Another year has passed from sight,
And left its impress on our mind;
The chair it brought through sudden flight,
Is kept as warden of school days behind.

A glistening vista doth broaden wide,
Opportunities smile on every side.
Our life's like a mass of plastic clay,
Molded little by little, day by day.
We see the present and review the past,
While the future's wrapt in a silence vast;
And as none can tell what it is to be,
We'll abide and hope, since we cannot see.
While each is master of his own fate,
Will you make yours little or make it great?

M. M. M., '14.