The Weber Literary Journal Two Poems Herman Richards The Springtime Song Oh, the masters may play in a wonderful way On strings that are sacred with age. On an instrument with a soul endowed, They may play from a time honored page Some melody that the angels play When mortals have made them sad Some simple lay that brings light of day Into hearts that have never been glad. But the music that comforts and lulls me to sleep, When I'm tired or troubled at night, Is the good-night song, that springtime song That the wee things sing with the spring twilight. Spring Twilight Hark! when the sun has hidden away And the shadows begin to fall, To the song of a joyful robin Or a curlew's plaintive call. Hark! to the small-life voices That come from the meadow and wood. List, and be soothed by a music That's blissful and restful and good. Dream, as the night grows 'round you, Dreams that are only for you. Rest, as the lulled are bound to, While the stars blossom up in the blue. And then, when the concert is over, When the cricket has finished its lay, Go, take yourself to the land of Nod Where the fairies of dreamland play. 14 The Weber Literary Journal Mr. Harland Jail Bird Elva Stephenson R. HARLAND glared at Rex and Marion. "You have heard my word and I shall not change it," he thundered. "Why won't you let us tell our side of the story?" pleaded Marion. "You have no side of the story. There is only one side to it and that is that this young man and his companions-." "They were not my companions," haughtily interrupted young Lee. "Then why were you out with them?" snapped Mr Harland. Before Rex had time to tell him that that was what he wanted to explain he was rambling on about the onesided story. "This young man and his companions Not a word!" he commanded, breaking off, as Rex started up angrily. "This young man and his companions were arrested for intoxication and ungentlemanly conduct and had to stay in jail overnight. In jail, I tell you, Marion! Can't you see the degradation of it? He had to stay in jail overnight!" Mr. Harland stamped angrily up and down the room, trembling with rage, his black eyes flashing fire. His black hair, slightly touched with gray, hung limply about his flushed brow. "But father, he didn't do" "He did! Anyone that has to stay in jail over night is not worth that," he cried, snapping his fingers. "It won't be long until he will be there for life." "Father, you know nothing about it." "Leave the room; and you," turning to Rex, "leave the house for good." Rex flushed and a number of retorts that he might make occurred to him but he knew it would only make things worse if he said any more. 15