Page 22 - Contrast1957Springv1n1

eye, and he turned in his chair to face Deese. His face was blood red,
and the shaking had grown steadily worse. Deese started to say some-
thing, but he hesitated, as if uncertain as to just what he wanted to
say. The class had come to life now, and all eyes were on Deese and
Cliff. Could it be that they sensed the reality behind this dreadful
impending drama?

Deese looked at Cliff questioningly. Cliff was looking him full
in the face ... waiting.

"Mr. Wicker, are you sure you feel well? Do you want to open
a window?"

Cliff tried to get up, but couldn't move. He lowered his head and
looked at the floor, and said a silent prayer. He didn't try to answer
Deese, because he knew he couldn't talk.

"Mr. Wicker, do you want a window open? You don't look well
at all. I've noticed you the past few minutes ... is it serious?"

"No, I'll be O.K. Just sort of felt funny for a minute. I think
I'll get a drink of water ... and a window open would help."

Deese turned and walked over to the window and lifted it about
two feet. While his back was turned Cliff reached in the blue book
and grabbed the cards and returned them to his shirt pocket. Then
he arose from his seat and left the room with a gloating smile on his
face. I should have thought of this in the first place, he said to himself.

The Consoler

A melancholy whistle mingles
With the rain,
Someone walks as I do, down
A forest lane.
Letting wind and water lash
And wash his face,
Crushing ferns beneath his feet
Like wet and crumpled lace.
Bending with the swaying trees
Bowing to the rain, .
A thousand tears blend with his
To ease the burning pain.

In his direst conflicts man
Goes running to the land,
And sympathizing nature,
Kindly holds his hand.

M.D.R.

20