THE O. H. S. TIGER, JANUARY 17, 1923 Page 3 LITERARY A DECEMBER ROSE If my heart was so brave, and my soul so strong, As a red budding rose I saw in the snow, I would never whimper when all went wrong Nor fade to the earth below. For after all in this world of woe Can we not be compared with a rose? And isn't the snow, the wind and the frost, The sin we meet when our virtue goes? It was a brave litle flower, budding in spite of the storm. And although the wind had tainted its shield, Inside its soul was protected from harm. It was so slender, and frail, yet strong enough not to yield To the tempting and whistling wind. Yet, we who are human can not with¬stand From the crimes and evils and those who sinned. I could not have plucked this blos¬soming bud For my heart went out to it. And stooping, my feet half covered with mud, I touched my face to its fold; and lo! I can even now fancy I see its glow And smell its fragrant scent. And I hope that it never, never will be bent Nor crushed in the mud and snow. —O-H-S— AT TIMES IT SEEMS One time in my early day I used to fool my time away. I gambled on the games of chance And kept my money on the prance; I drank good whiskey all the time And treated bums that formed in line. I was a sport from 6very point And now have aches in every joint; It seems that I am getting thin Because my nose lies on my chin And every time I take a step It seems to me I'm losing pep. My head, it seems to whirl at times And in my forehead are big lines; My skin is yellow as a goat And I have trouble in my throat; My stomach seems to bother me But what is wrong I cannot see. Of course at times I feel all right Excepting day-time and at night I have rheumatics in my feet. And in the night I cannot sleep But in the day-time I feel rest With pains ashooting through my chest. And after things are said and done I think I've had my share of fun. THE WRECK AT SEA One night I grew weary of listening With the phones clamped over my ears, And was falling asleep When a shrill distant peep Came pulsing with heart throbbing fears. And the night winds sighed, And the dit-dahs cried As they come from a far off sea. Through the gale and the crashing of waters The sighals came on through the night. Some ship in distress Sending out S. O. S. And spreading the tale of its plight. And the night winds sighed, An the dit-dahs cried, As they came from a far-off sea. The signals came faster and faster Ship's Sparks was pounding the key, With a fear at his heart He was doing his part Sending messages over the sea. And the night winds sighed, And the dit-dahs cried, As they came from a far off sea. The message was now interrupted It was broken, and weak, and slurred, And at last came the end, "Can no longer send," Was Spark's last laconical word. And the night winds sighed, And the dit-dahs cried As they brought in the tale Of a crew that had died And of those washed up by the morning tide On the shores of a far-off sea. (Sparks—A ship operator.) (Dit-dah—The conventional way of representing the code.) SNOW-FLAKES As I sat by the window one day, Watching the snow-flakes play I forgot all the tasks that were wait¬ing for me, And I dreamed all my time away. First I imagined from whence they came And what they were thinking about. Did they know they were dancing and luring me To depart from my work and come out? Still as I wached them frolicking gaily A queer feeling came over me; I felt myself floating, floating Like a tiny ship out at sea. It seemed I journeyed for miles and miles 'Till I came to a fairy-band Then lo and behold with a terrible thump I found myself back to land! —Mary Louise Hanks, '25. —O-H-S— AUTUMN When last I slep in the garden 'Midst the floating shadows of night 'Twas summer's last lingering bloom Peeped at me through the veiling- twilight And in that sweet, half melancholy gloom A super presence I felt. Lo, the being became visible and I beheld A supple form, and face most pass¬ing fair I marked her garb of summer hues serene; Nor lighter did the swallow wing the air. Methought she was the queen of fairy queens, All was peaceful in the world about me But my heart felt a vague unrest For from the fairy's faltering lips Came the soliloquy of a soul in dis¬tress— Like one who sought her way in troubled doubt She paused by the spring she loved and knew sowell, In the pale radiance of the moon she looked about And in the lucid water jeweled tears of bitterness fell. And in that scented moonlight hour Noiselessly through the garden she crept. With queenly grace she bent above each flower And lovingly kissed each nodding head where it slept. But now no more her feet could tread the way She heard the hurrying autumn wind in its flight To fear the grief, her soul a prey She passed away into the dews and damps of night. Scarce had the wandering fairy quit the scene When other dainty feet came danc¬ing through the moon's gather¬ing sheen Exquisitely her youthful figure was draped in folds Of gorgeous autumn purple, brown, and, gold. One graceful hand uplifted bore a wand Though clear as crystal and color¬less of hue A trail of hallowed fire, it fell behind; And with each artful touch a blush On every leaf and flower was wrought. And as the leaflets blushed and shyer grew They loosed their grip on mother tree and flew. Tumbling to the ground they spread A brilliant carpet of golden brown and red To the tune of the breezes that whistled Through the faded naked bough Elf and fairy sang, danced, and whispered While their queen blessed the earth with sacred vows Then hand in hand with fairy grace O'er nature's new-laid carpet they retraced Their frosty steps to autumn shrine— Thus I dreamed on through the long solemn hours of night 'Till when at last awakened to morning light Behold, mine eyes did "ope" upon a fairy land, For without all nature was clothed in brilliant splendors manifold. —Marion Tracy. —O-H-S— ENGLISH ASSIGNMENTS Now comes the English study hour. An hour, did I say? I start at nine and still at twelve I am niggardly plugging away. I delve in poems of Tennyson, Of Scott, and Robert Burns, And many other noted men I tackle in their turns. Where is time for geometry— Spanish and other stuff? I think that we should get these If we have time enough. With book reports, and poem reports, And all that outside work, I'm sure the English-taker Does not have time to shirk. I think the teacher means the best. We may need the work. But, well, If long assignments continue I'll need a padded cell. —Ben Jones. —O-H-S— SOME WISE WORD FOR THE STUDENT O student in thine hour off e e e, If on these few lines you c c c, And look for something to ap p p p, Your yearning for greenback v v v Take my advice and now be y y y— Go straightway out and advert t i s You'll find the project of some u u u; Neglect can offer no ex q q q; Be wise at once, prolong your d a a a, A silent business soon d k k k. Hazel—"I wish God had made be a boy." Wesley—"He did, I'm he." First Student: "I'm going to sue my English teacher for libel." Second Student: "What for?" First Student: "He wrote on me English theme, 'You have bad rela¬tives and antecedents.'" IN HONOR OF BIOLOGY The study of Biology is doing a great deal for me. It has not only developed my mind as studies are supposed to do, but it has taught me to know, love and appreciate nature. Biology is very interesting as a study and has taught me the art of thinking and observing because in biology there are so many things that are open for discussion and discovery. It is always interesting and alive be¬cause it deals with life. As I walk along the roadside, I do not think of the green scum on the ponds as un¬attractive slimy substance, but I think of its_ beauty as an individual plant what its environmental conditions are, whether or not it is growing as it should or how it grows. Even worms, insects and small animals become in¬teresting because I know they are not the slimy unpleasant things they seem to be, for they have a life to live similar to our own. It has taught me that we are not the wonderous, orig-inal creatures we think we are because we are only a specific kind of animal in a state of development. Chance perhaps fav¬ored us with proper environmental conditions, paving our way to a higher development than any other type of animal known. As to being original creatures, I can only say that we are almost exact copies of other animals. The cells of which our bodies are composed all perform or have per¬formed, at some time in their exis¬tence, the same functions as the very lowest animals known. Instead of being one or a hundred organized cells we are a mass of some seven¬teen trillion cells. The tiny wild flowers bordering the paths or cheering the barren hillsides by their exquisite colors become at¬tractive. Even beautiful cultivated flowers take on new beauty because of my increased knowledge of them. Now, when I find a deformed flower I do not pass it up as I did before, but I stop wondering, to see if I can discover the cause of its deformity. Anyone can readily see that a knowledge of biology has taught me to be more observant, to think more, to love and appreciate nature as I never did before. —Elva Peterson. —O-H-S— Pa heard him give a high school yell For joy he scarce could speak. He murmured, "Ma, just listen to Our Rudy talking Greek." Pro and Con Her skin's white as marble (That's powder, my man.) And her color is gorgeous (It comes in a can.) Her lips are delicious (The rouge is still wet.) And her lashes (Ye Gods!) (Hair tonic, I'll bet.) Her teeth are like pearls (She owes for 'em now.) And her hair is spun gold (Peroxide I'll vow.) My love is a vision; She fills me with joy. (Your love is a nightmare— Come out of it, boy! !) Show Your Face to Kreines PRINTING FOR ALL OCCASIONS At DEE Practical Printer "Service Grocers" Free Delivery We have the Best—try us Washington Market A. MILLER, Prop. 2472 Washington Ave. Phone 2800 QUALITY SERVICE City Cleaners & Dyers PHONE 1011 2374 Washington Ave., Upstairs Ogden, Utah