Illustration Commons^™

Stormy Vveather, Tom Beckwith

Manuscripts

"Life is bare, there's gloom an' misery

ev'rywhere,

Stormy weather;

Since my man an' I ain't together,

Keeps rainin' all the time."

The Locks, Allyn Wood

Manuscripts

He came out into the sun. Spice of wood-dust hung over the line of shanties following the canal; it was the dust of their houses baking on the bare packed bank that scarcely lifted above the water Waiting passively behind the bridge. Sometimes little clapping water-hands beat against the iron doors of the locks beneath the bridge, beat against the concrete sides of the bridge, beat, clapped, despaired, and fell. Brown and oily and dusty, the water lay with a strange subservient beauty behind the locks, moving round and round ever so slowly, as if it must remember motion while …

Rabbitries, Allyn Wood

Manuscripts

The girl in the car drove slowly out of the city. She crossed train tracks with a leap of the heart, following the straight line which was the street and then the highway. By its outer edges will the city be known by those who arrive and depart, will it be loved by those who can love, with fatalistic wonder, their creation!

The Mullein, Allyn Wood

Manuscripts

She had been seriously ill. For a few days it made no difference that it was autumn, one of the most beautiful that she might know. She stayed in the front room on a cot with an abundance of cool pillows. The door remained open, for there was a kind of claustrophobia while she scarcely breathed; by lack of oxygen all other capacity for emotion was suspended, and with forced objectively she contemplated the ensuing question, Does cessation of breathing end all emotion?

Front Matter

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Volume 13, Issue 1: Full Issue

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Vignettes

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Period Of Disaster, Hank Hurt

Manuscripts

it's over now! The blaze of battle has died down and the fury of the beast has been subdued.

School Days Fifty Years Ago, Patricia Pointer

Manuscripts

Not long ago I had a very interesting conversation with a friend of my grandfather. While discussing my graduation from high school and the coming year at Butler, r was' amazed to discover that he had taught school in a rural district some fifty years ago. Naturally I wanted to know all about it because, although I've read much about the strict old schoolmasters who :'didn't spare the rod," I had never seen or talked to one. As I listened to his tales, I felt almost as if I were reading the "Hoosier Schoolmaster."

First Impressions, Elsie Ruth Young

Manuscripts

Many times something that happened years ago will stand out clearer in our minds than those things which happened last month or even last week. Thus it is with my first symphony concert. I was in the third grade when my teacher voted to take us to the matinee concert of the Cincinnati Orchestra each time it came to our city, At least a month beforehand she, being an able musician herself, endeavored to explain the program to us and thus gave us adequate preparation for listening.

The Character Of Tailholt, William T. Sharp

Manuscripts

All those who really knew John Taylor are dead and forgotten. His generation have by this time advanced a considerable way down the line of history. Not all has been forgotten, however; as the story was passed on to me by my grandfather's narrations, I feel as though I really knew old John myself.

The Ride, Phyllis J, Banks

Manuscripts

Going to school was a thrilling event, especially since it involved riding in a shiny black and red pony cart behind the most handsome pony you ever saw. I discovered after a few rides that Jerry was not only 'handsome, but high-spirited and of a very unstable disposition. He resented being held in check when galloping down the hill or swerving around the corners.

My Future, Billie Cole

Manuscripts

The drama of the future becomes ourselves. A part of us is already dead, gone, and no longer existing anywhere. From the beginning of our existence we have left behind a part of us each day, a portion of burned energy which will never return.

Patty, Geraldine Harman

Manuscripts

The electric light in the middle of the ceiling illuminated the large, wide, antique bed in the center of the room. The carved headboard seemed to fill the space along the entire wall, although there was also a small desk in one corner covered with an arrangement of various pens and pencils and different shades of ink.

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 …