4 ACORN mining responsibilities alone, and had kept the pledge to his dying partner, "that he would see the thing through." Now that he was sure of success, he was free to leave, but the bitter thought came, "I have nowhere to go." It was now that he longed for the home which he had forsaken. How well he remembered the old home as it was when he bid it farewell. At the age of twenty-one Jack had grown weary of the farm work and the dull routine of farm life. He had longed for excitement and adventure, but his father declared it impossible to manage the farm without him. Jack declared that he detested farm work and grew more discontented each day. It now seemed to him that it was only yesterday when he came into the house and announced his departure. Angry words followed and Jack left without supper. He took the few dollars that he had saved and started out into the world. From then on he had wandered around until he finally settled in the mining districts of Colorado. Here he had been, for over two years, and had many times repented of his hasty action. Could he ever forget the sad pained look on his mother's face and the fear in his sister's eyes. It was only after he had left them that he knew how much they had done for him, and how little he had thanked them for it. Many times he had written to the folks at home, but had never received an answer. In the meantime his parents had moved to a smaller farm and had not received his letters. They had lived in hopes of his returning and their sorrow grew greater as the years rolled on. On entering the mines Jack gave his promise to remain at least two years, and he kept his promise faithfully. As he sat thinking and eating his supper, he was startled from his reverie by a knock at the door. He quickly opened it and found that the expressman had, as usual, brought a Thanksgiving box. He had looked forward with joy to the arrival of this box, for it was indeed a treat to him after a year of his own cooking. He knew not by whom the box was prepared, but he did know that it was heartily welcome. Jack could not wait to finish his supper, but tore off the lid. The first glance revealed a smooth white envelope addressed in a neat hand, "To the Receiver of the Thanksgiving Box." He tore open the envelope and began reading aloud: "I do not know who the reader of this letter maybe, but I have sent a letter in my box each year, hoping my own boy would get it and come home. He is Jack Feris, aged twenty-four, and if you know him, tell him his mother and father still wait for him. "His loving mother, "MRS. J. C. FERIS." P. S. Tell him we still love him and wait anxiously for his return. ACORN 5 Jack sat as if stunned for some moments gazing at the note. He read it over and over again before he was fully convinced of its truth. And then it did not take him long to decide what he would do. He went to the table and hastily wrote a letter to his mother, telling her to expect him home the next week. He was like an excited child the next few days and could hardly refrain from shouting for joy. One week later there was a happy home-coming, and the Feris family learned the true meaning of Thanksgiving. LELIA RAMSDEN, '12. Kaomi It was a typical Indian summer night. All nature was still. There was not even a breath of air to stir the leaves. The moonbeams fell upon the jagged hills, across the dark forest, over the white wigwams of the sleeping village, and were buried in the bosom of the lake, the forbidding darkness of which was relieved by their mellow light. The only form in which motion could be discerned was that of a canoe on the surface of the lake. It seemed to be drifting rather than propelled toward the place on the water where the light of the moon was, reflected. As it entered the light, the occupant stood upright in the canoe, A shadow was cast upon the water. It was that of a girl, tall and slender. She peered into the darkness as though watching intently for some object, she raised her eyes and prayed to the Goddess of the Moon, she cast one glance upon the quiet village, and then dropped to the bottom of the canoe and commenced to paddle into the darker water where the deep shadows of the gloomy forest were cast. Slowly the boat moved onward until in the darkness she could dimly discern the outline of a small cove where a small inland stream emptied into the lake. Here the skiff was brought to a standstill. A man sprang out from the shadow of the trees and after anchoring the canoe, assisted her to land. "Kaomi," he exclaimed, "you must not come again. It is too dangerous. If they should find out He shuddered, not daring to finish the sentence, for he knew that a death penalty would be imposed upon them both if the chief of the tribe knew of their meetings. Kaomi raised her eyes to his and for a moment she did not answer, then in a firm voice she replied, "They know." Ed Carlson grasped for breath, "Kaomi, Kaomi," he cried, "It must not be." Then he added fiercely, "why did you come tonight?" The reproach in his voice was stinging to her. Wild, as she was,