Arts and Humanities Commons^™

Gus, Patrick Hadler

Manuscripts

Probably no one on this earth has a more thankless job than the overland truck driver. I couldn't help thinking how much these knights of the concrete pathways and their roaring steeds were doing to ease crowded wartime shipping conditions as I watched that great lumbering fifteen ton monster roll noisily into a small country filling station on that boiling August afternoon. From its glass encased cab perched high above the gravel driveway stepped the young driver. He couldn't have been over twenty-two or three. His face was damp and grimy after the long straining hours of bouncing over the …

A Modern Drugstore, Richard G. Finley

Manuscripts

Who is the person who has not walked into a drugstore without being promptly and completely confused? Who is the person who has not bent an ear to the sage advice of a bespectled clerk, "Pardon me sir, but I would suggest that you take this other aisle to the prescription counter, we have had no word from five customers who went the other way two weeks ago. We are still searching for them."

Superman Grandpa, Carl Shultz

Manuscripts

In a quaint little white and green house on Archington Avenue one sunny afternoon, Jane, the mistress of the house, was knitting a sweater. As she worked over her masterpiece, she listened intently to the voice coming from grandfather's room. Once again his imaginative mind was working overtime, and his daydreaming gremlins were carrying him off to a land of oblivion. Jane listened, "Whish, with a quick change of clothing, I stand before you as Superman!"

Winter, Jacquline Crist

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

The November Persecutions Of 1938, Anastasia Schwarzleder

Manuscripts

The month of November, 1938, had started on a dreary note in Berlin; it had been raining for several days; the skies were dark and clouded.

On the fifth, my father's younger brother had left Germany with his family and his orchestra. Of Course, we were glad to see him get out of the infernal country, yet we felt sad at seeing a near relative leave us. Now, besides us, my grandparents and my father's older brother were the only members of our large family still in Berlin.

Land Of Zion Reborn And Hebrew Revived, Raymond Y. Sussman

Manuscripts

SCENE I - IN THE FIELDS

Spring. The Palestine countryside begins to bloom. Plants begin to grow, and the leaves on the trees start to turn green again. In the flelds the farmers begin to plow the dark, rich earth. The farm helpers sit behind the plows, or scatter the stones or spread the seeds. And as they work they sing together: "Shuru, habitu ur'u, rna gadol hayom hazeh, esh yokedet bachazeh, v'harnachraisha shuv polachat basadeh. Et, ina koosh tooriah v'kilshon, hit lakdu b's'arah, v'nad- Iika shuv, shuv et ha-adama, b'shalhevet y'ruka." ("How great is this day! The heart glows …

The Thicket, Joan Hayden

Manuscripts

As I scuff through the fallen leaves these days, I find my thoughts turning constantly to The Thicket, my former home in southern Indiana. Autumn will be arriving there, too, and I wonder what it must be like there now. Indian summer must bring dreams to the old place of all the years that have gone, and of the seasons past now. I wonder if it will ever be spring there again?

The Heart Of America, Eileen Hoover

Manuscripts

Do not allow Pete to deceive you with his modern ideas and speeches. He is really quite a character from out of the old world with all his old-fashioned ways.

Italy can boast of the birth of one Peter Galbo about half a century ago. Having been reared there until he was eighteen years old, Pete to this day has the dialect and mannerisms of a true Italian. Surprising, yet true, Pete's ancestry has never caused him to be partial to his native land. America has never had any truer immigrant. Pete expresses his greatest pride when he steps into …

The Girl With The Tan Hair, Jean Pittenger

Manuscripts

I was the long desired baby sister with the "tan" hair. My brother, who was six years old at the time of my birth, had ordered me specially. Because he greatly admired the blond baby sister of one of his boy friends, he made numerous and serious appeals and accepted my arrival with the same enthusiasm as he had displayed when given his highly-prized, red tricycle. Although most people called me a "towhead," Bob still considered me his little sister with the "tan" hair.

Fantasies Of The Night, Lena Willkie

Manuscripts

Night reached greedy fingers across a leaden sky. In the west, a sullen November sunset faded into a melancholy gray. Naked trees swayed and bent and moaned under the whiplash of a winter wind. Leaves whirled and fell in a lifeless dance. Dull, brown, untidy lawns darkened in the fading light.

Mariclon's Cove, Mary Alice Kessler

Manuscripts

It was a bright, brisk day. The foaming sea crashed gaily against shining rocks. The wind blew high and strong. My hair was torn back from my face; my wet face, so clean and free. I was free. The wind and the sea and I were free .. free .. free. Life had thrown me into a tossing, black-green world. A windy spray-world of clouds and burning sun and screaming gulls. My wet dungarees clung to my legs and I tasted the salt of a day at sea.

The Banker, Doris Daley

Manuscripts

Sylvester scowled at the traffic light because it was detaining him for a valuable moment or two; even though he could have crossed safely, he waited because that is the law. When the light changed, he hurried 'across the street with others who had eight o'clock appointments with destiny, and, just as he did every morning, looked in all the smart shop windows.

The Spot Of Ink, Lucy Kaufman

Manuscripts

Looking away from his book, Peter stared at the hard hot brightness of the one Iighted lamp. He liked the yellow compact circle of light thrown from the unshaded bulb, for although it was adequate for reading, it was too small to illuminate the room. For a long time, almost it seemed, from the time of his first coherent thought, he had wanted to burst the bonds which chained him to the room. And each night he read to forget the soiled cracked wallpaper and the thick film of dust which smudged the window panes and slid along the edges …

"Saturday's Child Has Far To Go", Mary Elizabeth Black

Manuscripts

The courthouse square of our town is always crowded on summer Saturday nights. Cars are wedged neatly around the four sides of the square in every available parking place, the shops and groceries are ablaze with lights, and horns honk wildly as little children dash across the streets to join their friends in playing tag on the courthouse lawn. As one makes one's way through the crowd, women with bundles of all sizes and shapes and grocery bags with celery peeping out of the tops jostle one from all sides. Farmers dressed in faded overalls and toddlers licking ice cream …

Lucifer And The Light Lady, Joy Higdon

Manuscripts

Lucifer was a very young lightning bug, but although he was very young, he knew his way around. All the lady lightning bugs were acquainted with Lucifer and they were fond of him.

An Afternoon, Mary Chappell

Manuscripts

Now the cab was leaving the downtown area and was entering the residential district. I sat forward in my seat and looked out the window. Apparently this was not a fashionable neighborhood, but middle class and decaying. I had never been there before and looked at the big, dirty frame houses, old, stone churches with dead ivy clinging to them, and maples, bare of their leaves and dripping in the rain.

The Meetin', Robert Cornett

Manuscripts

The folks in the little meetin' house was beginnin' to git the sperrit. The meetin' was gain' along just like the Lord would want it to go. It was hot in that little one-room buildin' settin' there on the side of the mountain, but nobody cared about that. Fact is, folks had to be a little too warm to really git the sperrit.

Front Matter

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Volume 11, Issue 1: Full Issue

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

The Playground Of The East, Jean Harlan

Manuscripts

I lay down on the beach and looked dreamily away to where the deep blue of the sky blended to meet the blue-green of the ocean. The sun shone brightly on the golden sand about me while the brightly colored sea shells came and went with the ocean waves. The whole shore seemed secluded, but by noon it would be jammed with people bathing or basking in the sun. The shore would be a mass of red, yellow, blue, orange, green, and purple umbrellas

War In My Lifetime, Jeanne Sutton

Manuscripts

The war has been going on for almost two years now. Think of it! Two years of the worry, heartache, tears, last-minute smiles, last-time kisses, letters, day and night news broadcasts, furlough dates, rationing, last-minute shoe rush - a million things which happen to a girl only in war time.

To Save Our Soles, Marjorie Phillips

Manuscripts

Americans in 1943 are doing a number of things that we never did before and, in all probability, will never do again. The world is changing rapidly, adjusting itself to the necessities of a nation at war. We are beginning to feel, for the first time, the insidious fingers of the international conflict. There is a seriousness now behind the American smile, a strength, a realization of what this war means.

Dust, Mary G. French

Manuscripts

It was August 21, 1936, in the days when Kansas was a part of our country known as the Dust Bowl. The sun shone down on a parched and thirsty earth. The lawn, which should have been a beautiful green velvet carpet, was instead an ugly brown expanse of dead grass whose roots had long ago given up the struggle to reach life-giving moisture. Where no vegetation grew, the ground was cracked and broken. The trees, prematurely brown, swayed lazily in a hot breeze which came drifting in from the west. Birds, mostly boisterous bluejays, friendly robins, twittering sparrows, and …

Complex Wally, Mary Cory

Manuscripts

I was told at lunch by one of my high school friends that Wally wanted to see me at two minutes after two on the second floor bridge. That was Wally all right, always doing something peculiar and very exact. I was on my way to the bridge at two, and as I rounded the corner of it, I saw that the "Remarkable" was already there. He was standing tall and gangly in front of the window looking down at the street and appearing in a rather desolate and serious mood.

Garden Of Eden, Ken Skelton

Manuscripts

The large wrought iron gates were thrown open to admit the throngs of people of which we were a part. Supporting the gates were square, Substantial looking red brick posts; winding back through the posts was a narrow macadam road, which was last among the beautiful slopes. On one side stretched row upon row of small, heavily laden apple trees. The coloring was so perfect and the spacing so uniform that it seemed like an.overdone picture.

The Quaint And Romantic City, Josephine Haboush

Manuscripts

Ebony-skinned negroes bearing round baskets atop their kinky heads, easily balancing their loads of fruit and vegetables, make their way across the uneven stones of the old French quarter of New Orleans. Bright-hued sunbonnets, hiding the faces of dusky wearers, add color to this quaint scene.

Java's Last Night, Richard G. Finley

Manuscripts

He might have been your neighbor, or your boyfriend, or just the fellow you see clattering along in a Model A Ford any place in the country where college boys take the gang home from football games. He might have been, but now he was no part of that former life.

Her Majesty, Maxine Demlow

Manuscripts

Zooming through the ever-changing, lofty clouds, a Lockheed Lightning Interceptor came into view, her wings outspread as a huge eagle. Queen of the airways, she seemed propelled by some forceful, hidden power, concealed from the human eye. The sun reflecting the drab olive green wings as the P-38 made a gliding left bank was startlingly blinding.

Kitchen Kingdom, June Ann Goodrich

Manuscripts

During the summer, the kitchen was the coolest and most cheerful place to find refuge from the summer heat. In the winter, it served as a sewing room, study and game room, as its old, iron stove was in great demand after the first frost.

Retrogression, Caroline Pressel

Manuscripts

Suppose that you were suddenly to find yourself twenty-five miles from the nearest town in a cabin on Bay Talaunch in the Alabama forests. How would you manage in this modern day if you were that far from civilization? After having all of the conveniences of modern life as a part of one's heritage, it is a real art to be able to live happily and comfortably in such an environment.