DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Reverie, v. 3, issue 3, whole 10, September 1940

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Reverie, v. 3, issue 3, whole 10, September 1940

Page 10

10 Reverie
"Oh, but I didn't," she protested, eyes wide. "See! I'll get one."
The three of us watched as she held the mirror before the caterpillar's eyes. He dropped the carrot spray and reared high. The next second he bumped smartly against the mirror.
"What makes him do that?" I asked.
The caterpillars of this species can't stand the sight of another of their kind; they are brave and pugnacious at all times," Professor Masters explained.
Maxine returned the caterpillar to his bush, and I said: "Just the same it is a shame she doesn't have a real kitten."
"Guess you're right," he said dejectedly. "She needs a mother." He looked at me with a soft light in his keen brown eyes.
I'm not so dumb. I arose.
"Well, I must get home," I said. "I want to get my lessons done because there's a big dance Tuesday night that I hope to get a bid to."
Professor Masters stood up, too. "Tuesday night, eh?" he said in a voice that made sudden music in my heart. "About eight thirty be all right?"
He wasn't so dumb either!

---

TO YOU WHO SLEEP
Let not the funs disturb your sleep,
Who lie in Flanders fields;
Be not concerned if women weep
Across your quiet mounds, 
Or shattered comrades seek the truth
In each white marble cross
That rears itself upon your youth...
You are the lucky dead!
--Margaret Nickerson Martin.

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10 Reverie "Oh, but I didn't," she protested, eyes wide. "See! I'll get one." The three of us watched as she held the mirror before the caterpillar's eyes. He dropped the carrot spray and reared high. The next second he bumped smartly against the mirror. "What makes him do that?" I asked. The caterpillars of this species can't stand the sight of another of their kind; they are brave and pugnacious at all times," Professor Masters explained. Maxine returned the caterpillar to his bush, and I said: "Just the same it is a shame she doesn't have a real kitten." "Guess you're right," he said dejectedly. "She needs a mother." He looked at me with a soft light in his keen brown eyes. I'm not so dumb. I arose. "Well, I must get home," I said. "I want to get my lessons done because there's a big dance Tuesday night that I hope to get a bid to." Professor Masters stood up, too. "Tuesday night, eh?" he said in a voice that made sudden music in my heart. "About eight thirty be all right?" He wasn't so dumb either! --- TO YOU WHO SLEEP Let not the funs disturb your sleep, Who lie in Flanders fields; Be not concerned if women weep Across your quiet mounds, Or shattered comrades seek the truth In each white marble cross That rears itself upon your youth... You are the lucky dead! --Margaret Nickerson Martin.