Illustration Commons^™

Experiment K-353, Jack Green

Manuscripts

I watched wistfully as the last brownie was tucked 'carefully into the overladen basket. I gave a longing look as I saw the basket disappear through the gate under Mother's arm. There I was, stomach feeling as if my throat had been cut.

Under the impulse of the moment, I decided to see just what could be done to alleviate the situation.

Air Drop In Burma, Theodore R. Cox

Manuscripts

Up and down over the mountain trails came the soldiers, shuffling along as though they were ready to drop. Yes, they were almost at the collapsing point, and their tired and dirty appearance showed that their march with full field pack and battle equipment had been anything but pleasant. On and on, day after day, this must go, for ahead of them lay the enemy. The only way to get them out was to go over the mountains, and to do this made one's body cry out with agony.

That's My Mom, Clarissa Hollander

Manuscripts

With a dab of flour on her nose and a twinkle in her eyes the not too plump little woman stepped to the front of the stage. The scene was the auditorium of the local synagogue. The occasion was a meeting of the Sisterhood of the congregation. The program was a baking demonstration by Mrs. David Hollander. Mrs. Hollander was to show the ladies the fine art of making Viennese flaky cookies.

A Five Minute Decision, Betty Rippy

Manuscripts

"Frozen section in Surgery 12." Those are familiar words to anyone in the laboratory at one of the local hospitals. Behind those five words lie one of the many services offered to the patients While there. They very seldom if ever hear of it; yet on this may depend the extent of their surgery or their very lives.

The Fisherman, Elizabeth Bran

Manuscripts

The calmness of the lake was shattered by the put-put of an outboard as it rounded the bit of land at the edge of the bay and came in toward the boathouse.

An Arkansas Private, William Handman

Manuscripts

On the outskirts of a demolished Ger- I man town huddled in a machine gun emplacement were two American soldiers. The tall, lean but rugged private lay slovenly in the mud and snow. His beard of three weeks coated with a thin layer of ice was all that showed as the sergeant bellowed his command to clean the machine gun. Every inch of his six foot four-inch brawn and muscle turned slowly as he opened one eye and drawled, "O.K., Sarge, but this is one hell of a time to get ideas like that." He brushed the fallen snow from …

On True Friendship, Henry E. Hill

Manuscripts

In the recesses of every normal human breast there lies a keen longing for a true and intimate friendship. It is a rare privilege, however, for one to possess a friendship that is full and complete. True friendship costs us something which most people are unwilling to pay.

Rain, Mary Alice Kessler

Manuscripts

Short Poem

Dolorosa, Lena Moulton

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Short Poem

Thou Art The Spoiler, Tom Beckwith

Manuscripts

I first read those words when I was a child of ten. I was living with my grandmother Nell for the summer months. Among a vast selection of old volumes hidden away in her attic, I came across that phrase, and then it meant nothing.

Yankee Rhodian: His Scholarship And Record, Mary Fritsche

Manuscripts

In the forty years of the execution of Cecil John Rhodes' thousand year educational plan, the Rhodes scholarships to Oxford University, offering to the British Empire, Germany, and the United States culture with education and preparation for life rather than for living, the Yankee Rhodian has justified his benefactor's faith in him academically although he has not yet entered sufficiently into the national leadership Rhodes desired of his American scholar.

The Powder Train, Barbara Gene Lucas

Manuscripts

The December day was fading into a mist varying in shades of gray as the leaden skies hovered over the snowblanketed ground. The tint of the cloudy air was deepened now and then, as an exhausted locomotive plowed along the unseen trails of the railroad yard. The black smoke hung densely around the scattered little red buildings which formed the nerve center of the railroad's activity.

Beauty, Allyn Wood

Manuscripts

Yet afterward, she finds her thoughts returning again .and again to the garden. Somehow, she does not know quite why, it seems as if she holds it in the palms of both hands, there with the programme de ballet.

Front Matter

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No abstract provided.

Volume 12, Issue 4: Full Issue

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No abstract provided.

Vignettes

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No abstract provided.

Highest Place In Indianapolis, Linn Hudson

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Maybe some of you don't know what or where the tallest structure in Indianapolis is, so for the enlightenment of those who don't know I shall describe my first visit to this pinnacle of engineering ingenuity.

The Value Of An Art Course, Susan Arne

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Here, then, in art, is an opportunity unleashed for us to grasp and hold in the struggle for the development of man's unlimited resources in the field of humanitarianism.

Let's Stay Out Of It, Mary Schreiber

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No abstract provided.

My Brother's Recital, Bill Dye

Manuscripts

The big night had arrived. My eight; year-old brother was to perform on the "eighty-eight" in his first recital. Tonight was the climax of a month of madness. Four long weeks had seen the rise and fall of the neighbors' patience. Day and night, night and day, all they heard was piano, piano, piano! They, as well as we, almost went mad. It would not have been too bad if Al could have played the piano without making it an instrument of torture .. But his brand of music involved no more than two fingers, one on each hand.