m.
T T
One Short Hour
The tired, middle-aged man,
slipped his worn overcoat off his
thin shoulders and settled back in
the plush seat. The heated audi
torium felt good after being out
in the cold snow. How kind it had
been of his employer to give him
n ticket to the concert! He loved
niusic, but his wife would not per-
niit him to waste his money for
entertainment such as a music con
cert.
The music soothed him and
niade him forget all the troubles
be had on his mind. All except one.
He slipped a thin, gold watch
Horn his pocket. He must not for-
Set the time. Martha, his wife,
■*vould scold him if he came home
after 9:30. He would have to get
Up in the middle of the concert
and step on the toes of many peo
ple between him and the aisle. He
^as a timid type of person and did
Uot like to attract attention.
h.
By
A loud burst of music brought
^'ni back to reality. It was 9:15
and Martha would be wondering
y'^bere he was and why he was stay-
out. For some strange reason
® did not mind worrying her on
*'bis particular night because he
"’^as enjoying the concert. When
got home he would have to go
hastily to bed to keep her from
lagging him, and to keep her from
®®niplainiing because he had been
late.
a man who had been buried alive
and who could hear the bells strik
ing the hour. The man thought of
how peaceful it would be to die,
not to have to* worry about work
ing, aibout being home by 9:30,
or about the cruel things which
happened each day.
Ethyleen Funk
Nine-twenty. He placed his
watch back in his pocket, and as
he looked up a thousand lights
caught his eye. It was the reflec
tion of the chandelier which was
in the dome of the auditorium di
rectly above him. He again took
his watch out of his pocket and
turned it over and over in his
hand. He was thinking of the many
pieces of glass it must have taken
to make the chandelier. The tiny
crystals were tinkling as the music
played. The man was thinking of
the many symphonies the tinkling
crystal ornaments must have
caught through the passing years.
hurtling through space. A high
note of music must have loosened
the chandelier which was falling
and tinkling in a blaze of light.
And he would be in the path. Oh,
how wonderful to die in such a
way with music all around him,
and with many people who would
have a kind word to say for him.
His thoughts were happy as he
gave a loud cry. The glass was
shattering in his ears. Then all
was silent.
Now they were playing a selec-
tion by Schubert. He looked at
'^be hands of the watch again.
H Was a few minutes after nine.
He then took his coat sleeve and
Polished the case of the watch. He
proud of his gold watch be
cause it had been his grandfather’s
^nd Was the only really nice thing
be owned. He turned the watch in
^be palm of his hand. The gold
back gave a glow to the reflection
his face, but he did not look
bappy. His hair was turning gray,
^*id he had the burdens of the
^orld on his heart.
Then it happened. In a flash the
whole chandelier seemed to be
When the crowd drew back to
let the doctor through, he an
nounced that the man had died of
a heart attack. The doctor won
dered at the gold watch he held in
his hand. The crystal had been
shattered by a prism which had
evidently fallen from the chande
lier. The crowd stood by and won
dered idly why he held the watch
in his hand.
gxTXTTixTTTTTTTTTxzxxxxxxxzTiriiixxxxiacxiTrrxxrxxxa
To me you are the sun, whose fingertips
Doth touch the lazy water as it glides.
Who smiles to see the hidden fire
That warmth and love can bring to view.
Now they were playing a Rach-
^P^ninoff “Prelude.” The program
®^Plained that it told a story of
To me you are the moon, whose shining rays
Give beauty to a meadow choked with weeds.
Who lends her soft and gentle light
To make the earth a lovely place.
To me you are the stars, whose steadfast eyes
Are always clear and deep and full of truth.
Who look on earth with changeless calm
And keep earth’s secrets in their depths.
To me you are the sun, the moon, the stars.
Who breathe upon the world with bated breath.
Who tell the world to look to them
For guidance and celestial light.
—Margaret James.
rTTTTT»TT««XXXXTXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
HILLTOP—PAGE THIRTEEN
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