Fiction Commons^™

The Character Of Tailholt, William T. Sharp

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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"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

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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

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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

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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

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Short Poem

Dolorosa, Lena Moulton

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Short Poem

Thou Art The Spoiler, Tom Beckwith

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.

Compulsory Military Training, Rhea Mcgoldrick

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The compulsory military training plan now before congress, but with little chance of immediate consideration, is one of great importance to us all. The fact that we were thrown into war, and were definitely unprepared, has made us fully realize that we should give some deep thought to the problem of future military training for our boys.

Compulsory Religious Courses, Patricia Jowitt

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More and more Americans are turning toward God to discover an answer to their personal needs. Today many of the people of the last generation have no knowledge of the mores which are the necessary foundation of religion. These consider themselves too adult to attend Sunday School; therefore, a substitute for this basic instruction should be provided.

In One World, Tom Beckwith

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How very strange it seems that the majority of minds still believe in distinctions _ yes, distinctions while experiencing life, and, even more absurd and unethical, distinction after life. Can it be that after being submitted to the distinctions between race, color, creed, religion, and position while on earth that we, must go on through eternity, that endless span of existence, still making a distinction between supposedly good and evil?

Herr Muller, Mary Fritsche

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This sketch is based em a short story, "The Lord of Marutea," by James Norman Hall. The setting is one of the islands of French Polynesia. Forrest, a man employed by a German motion picture Company, comes to make a picture of island life and finds Marutea ruled by Herr Muller, the German island trader who has established himself there.

Informal Interview, Betty Jean Wirth

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While eating dinner at the Indianapolis Athletic Club the other evening we noticed an old gentleman dining alone next to us. His loneliness was so apparent that we invited him over to our table. We were quite surprised to find that we had a celebrity in our midst when he joined us. The old gentleman was Meredith Nicholson, American essayist and novelist.

Fashions Of Spring, Barbara Bard

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Queenly spring is here in her cloak of moss-green, trimmed with folds of orchid, white, and yellow. Her fair head is crowned with a golden, glowing sun, and a pale blue and white veil. She brings with her a treasure chest, lavishly filled with natural beauty. Her warm soul gently penetrates through the long, raw winter's cold