Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-06-20
IVY GRAFTON.
By Max Kirjassof.

I was once told of confederate general who left the United States after the rebellion. resolved never more to see these shores. He lived in peace. to all appearances amid new scenes and new surroundings. One day he strolled down to the harbor. his heart was heavy. he knew not why. As he stood on the wharf he saw a gallant ship entering the port. At her mast was flying the stars and stripes. He staggered. tears streamed down his cheeks as he cried. this is too much for me. I must go home"
 There is no place like home. It is the comfort of the old man. weary of life. Even the man who has gone out into the world and has had great success. who has become famous and has received many of the blessings of this earth is not happy unless he one day returns home. There is fas- cination in the old familiar places, a pleasure in recalling old joys and triumphs.
 There comes time in the lives. of every one of us. when we must leave all that is clear to us, and strike out into the great unknown world. We may gain friends and form friendship but always we shall recall the places of our childhood. The old home-With what love we think of 1t! Forgotten are the troubles of our early years. the irksome duties. We remember who watched over our youth.
 As we reflect awhile we cannot but feel that our school days have ab- sorbed the greater part of our youth full lives. Within the school our char acter has been moulded. our ambition quickened. our shortcomings gener- ously criticised. Our school has been home to us.
 One leaves his home In sorrow. Now he feels. for the first time perhaps, the debt of gratitude which he can never repay. He promises himself to return some day and in some measure show his appreciation of the benefits he derived here. We leave our home to-day. tomorrow. we are free. These halls will resound with our youthful voices no more. The hour calls for deeds. Words are futile. What can we offer? We have presented our Alma Mater with a mute memorial of onr love and esteem. But this is not enough We wish to leave something which will grow as we grow. which will he symbolical of our increasing devotion. We turn then to Nature who offers us a little plant. typical of all we can hope to be-the tender ivy. It thrives in sun and in rain. in heat and in cold. it grows in sandy as well as fertile soil. It climbs ever higher and higher. It grows yearly stronger and stronger until 1t serves to pro tect the walls 1t was planted to adorn. It teaches us lessons of per severance. hope. faith, love. courage. devotion. indeed it Is symbolic of all good man should he.
 Filled with the spirit which the ivy sugggests. urged on by the deeds of those who have gone before us. let us plant our ivy tenderly in the soil. let us carefully fasten its roots in the warm earth. let us cover them with loving care. Then our duty will he ended. May the act be propitious. May our ivy grow and may we grow with it fin goodness and in love for all mankind. May we all revisit our old school and take pleasure in the old halls.
 Even though in after years we climb the ladder of success and have attained what our highest ambition sought let us not foregt the debt which we owe to the school Let us always remember that whatever sue cess we have attained has been iarge- Iy due to our training here. Though undoubtedly we must separate to tra- verse different paths of life. let us. yearly at least return to the old school to view once more the scenes of our early triumphs and defeats and to take pleasure In recalling the old familiar faces. the good old school-days. our helping teachers. to whom. more perhaps than to any <hfnc ofso ura ehnrid no profafs,f for