Canton High School - Cantonian Yearbook (Canton, IL)

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THE CANTONIAN C. HS I I I - - I I I TI-IE STREAK OF YELLOW AMES HARTVVELI, was awakened from a sound sleep by a number of vigorous thumps at his door. There was a scuffling of many feet and a confused murmur of voices outside. Open the door, Frosh, hurry up, ordered some one, and from this Hartwell concluded that his visitors must be members of the upper class, who wished to make his acquaintance. uGet a wiggle on, Frosh. VVhat's the matter with you? Hartwell smiled scornfully. Open the door to those roughs? Most certainly not. Try all your keys, fellows, one of them may fit? Different keys were tried but apparently none fitted. Here comes Spud Murphy, he's got a master key, called some one in the distance and an instant later the door swung open. and a crowd of upper classinen filed solemnly in. The leader calmly proceeded to light the lamp. Hartwell was white with anger. Get out of here, every one of youf' he cried passion- ately. iiThis room is mine and you have no right here. My goodness, exclaimed the leader, seating himself on the table. VVhat a little game- cock he is. He was a pleasant appearing youth with red hair and wore a blue sweater on which was blazoned a big white VV. Thus he appealed to his fellows. NVhat shall we do with it.?', Questions came one after another from around the circle. but not one of the crowd smiled nor lost a particle of his dignity. VVhat's your name, Frosh ? How old are you?', Is your papa proud of his little boy F Does mama send it bon-bons F Hartwell made no reply to these questions, whereat the leader made a sign for silence. It's tongue is tied, he affirmed. VVhat's good for tied tongues?i' As with one accord the twenty solemnly answered, Soapsuds.', Exactly, replied the leader. Skinny, investigate, and if possible prepare the soapsudsf' A fat boy arose from his seat on the floor and carried out these orders, presently appear- ing with a glass of foaming suds. VVhat's your name, Frosh? No answer. All right, fellows, down with himf' Yelling and striking out with hands and feet, Hartwell was thrown. A liberal gob of suds was forced between his clenched teeth, whereupon he was allowed to rise. Now before you go on,', interrupted the leader, I wapt to give this Freshman a bit of advice. When a boy comes to this school, he stands or falls on his merits alone. His folks may be rich or poor, that makes no difference. If he's a snob, and that kind break in here, some- times it goes pretty hard with him till he's cured or leaves. Vfe generally manage to get a fair idea of what a fellow is by the way he takes a little hazing. I've said this for your own good. Now, Frosh, went on the youth with the fiery mop of hair, we're really good friends of yours, though you don't believe it. VVe're doing it for your own good, as parents often say before whipping their erring children, though we do not claim it hurts us more than it does you. 'fYou will now perform for our amusement. First, Iill request you to retire into the con- fines of your closet and when the signal is given thrust forth your head and strike like a coo-coo-clock? Whom shall I strike? he inquired, giving care to his grammar. A chorus of groans greeted his sally and he was hustled into the closet with the informa- tion that he was entirely too fresh. After he had coo-cooed to the crowd's satisfaction, he was seated in a wash bowl and sup- plied with a pair of toothpicks in place of oars. Thereupon he was requested to row a race with himself. This exciting contest over, a small spot on the floor was called to his attention. See that spot, Frosh? asked the Master of Ceremonies. VVell, that resembles tempta- tion. Now get down and wrestle with it. Hartwell did not enter into the humor of this affair as a wise boy would have done. To him it was very serious. He felt humiliated, disgraced, and a black anger surged in him against the Sophomores. At last the ordeal was over. Of course, there's no hard feelings, Freshman i' said the leader, in a friendly fashion, as he and his fellows prepared to leave. Good nightj, and heaheld out his hand. Hartwell backed abruptly away, his hands behind him. Oh, very well, just as you please? and the crowd filed silently out. lt was Skinny Moore that broke the news to the other members of his class. About nine Ill III IIMII I42

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C. I-I. S. Tl-IE CANTONIAN I I I I I I miah's death and now she was crying again. VVhat a strange way she looked at hin1. He raised his well hand feebly. Poor, crushed laddie, she said, and left the room. As the summer days passed into autumn he slowly mended. Finally there came a dav when the doctor said they might take him home. Ro looked at his father, 'then at Aunt Cassv. Did he want to go home? This Aunt Cassy beside him was something new who spoke to hiin with a catch in her voice and brought him many nice things to eat. Now she took his hand and with a new light in her sharp. grey eyes, said: I think we'll have better times now, lad- die, since we kinda got acquaintedfl Ro looked at her a moment, then his eyes bugged out as big as dollars. Kina whistle? Yes, laddie, most anything you wanta do. Kina yell?', Yes, laddief' VVhoogpe! he yelled. I can whistle if I want to. I can yell if I want to. I can do what I darned please. Bless the child, said Aunt Cassy, with a tenderness unknown to her for years. as AMY I.. Jouxsox, 18 DIPLOMACY LI'l FI.E JIMMIE was troubled. He flopped himself down upon the grass beside the hedge and tried to forget his disappointment by seeing 'how far he could spit between the gap in his teeth. The source of his dejection was his father's refusal to get him a bicycle. He had imagined how the boys would have envied him and how all the little girls would smile as he rode proudly by. But now the dreams were shattered! He made a vicious jab into the sod with his heel at the thought of it, and inspired by this move he proceeded to have a fit, kick- ing, tearing at the hedge, and jumping until he had exhausted himself: VVith this out of his system he felt better and as he lay recovering, he amused himself by listening to the conversation that was being carried on, on the other side of the hedge. The principals in this conversation' were Madge, his sister, who had just passed her nineteenth birthday, and a very gallant young gentleman, Mr. Harold Sanders, in whom Madge was very much interested not only on account of his handsomeness but because of his financial standing. To Jimmie the talk was nothing out of the ordinary. so he picked himself up and departed for parts unknown. He appeared at supper time still moody and cross, and his appetite was so normal that his mother became anxious and asked if he were not feeling well. He assured her that he was perfectly well, but added, You can't expect a fella to feel fine when he gets treat- ed like I've been. YVhereupon he left the supper table very disgruntled and retired to the seclusion of his own room. As soon as the evening meal was cleared away, Madge tiptoed quietly upstairs and found Jimmie lying face down upon his bed. After a few words of comfort, she began whispering something which evidently interested Jimmie for he arose upon his elbows and began to takc a new interest in life. Several mornings later young Sanders was surprised to see little Jimmie coming up the steps to his apartment. Come right in, he said, as he opened the door. I can't stay, Jimmie replied nervously, but here is a letter for you. He departed hastily, and Sanders, his curiosity aroused, quickly tore open the white en- velope that Jimmie .had thrust into his hand. He was amazed to read-evidently Written by Jimmie-: Deer Mister Sanders: I just want to tell you that i don't like yu. anyway i think any- buddy that makes a girl cry the way yu make sis cry is a koward. Sis cries every nite in front ov yur picture. JIMMIE One morning, three weeks later as Jimmie rode awkwardly down the driveway 011 his new wheel, he encountered his friend, little Johnny VVilliams. VVhere'd you get the bike,', Johnny asked, his curiosity aroused. A friend of mine gave it to me for doing him a favor. XVho? Mr. Sanders. . v Oh! he's the fella that's goin' to marry your sister. Johnny began to see light. ll hat for? Oh, nuthinl. I just wrote him a letter tellin' him how much Sis liked him. Say! I've got a peach of an air rifle, too. Where'd yu get that? Johnny didn't see how any one could be so lucky. Sis gave it to me for writin' the letter the way she told me to and letting Mr. Sanders think I wrote it.' Howmm VVoon, '18 III III 141 IIQII

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C. H.S. THE CANTONIAN I I I I I I o'cl0ck of the next evening he broke excitedly into the room occupied by Sam Hawkins, known as Red, and leader of the crowd which had hazed Hartwell. Several other boys were also present, draped about on the furniture in various picturesque attitudes. VVhat do you suppose has happened ? he burst out. You know that Freshman we hazed in Blackwell Hall? VVell, he went to Dr, Andrews and squealedf' He what? gasped the unbelieving chorus. He what? He squealedf' repeated Skinny. I was waiting in the outer office to see Doc about my history flank last spring and the door was wide open, so I couldxft help hearing. You oughter been there. Gee, but he's a regular fire cracker. Said that everyone of the bunch that was in his room ought to be expelled, that the school was nothing more than a mob of roughnecks and a whole lot more. Each boy gasped in astonishment. Such a state of affairs had never before existed at VVells. He is ready to identify every fellow in the bunch, went on Skinny, and then to Red: He's described us from A to Z. The insignificant little son-of-a-gun, mused Red. He must have a streak of yellow that goes clear thru. That's just it, agreed Skinny. He's saffron to the core and out beyond. It was wonderful how fast the news spread. From room to room, from dormitory to dormitory it fiew, leaving a trail of disgusted and indignant boys behind. ,Could Hartwell have heard the many uncomplimentary remarks made about him it would have opened his eyes. Next morning he saw one of his classmates whom he had made up his mind to like. His words of greeting were interrupted by: Is it true. Hartwell, that you squealed on those Sophs who hazed you night before last? I don't like the way you express it, said Hartwell, but I certainly went to Dr. Andrews about the matter. I considered it my duty to- He paused, surprised at the scorn and contempt in his classmate's face. Then the latter turned of without another word, leaving him angry, and considerably mystified. Similar meetings happened thruout the day and the boy had finally began to doubt the wisdom, from the standpoint of policy, of what he had done. At first he was hurt and scornful, but as the days dragged into weeks, and weeks into months, he began to feel different toward his schoolmates. It changed him so nmeh that he felt fully as much contempt at what he had donq in ignorance, as did any of those who judged him. He could see now, as he broadened, how serious his offense had been and he knew that he had no one to blame but himself. This change was the only thing that kept James Hartwell in school. Quitter was a new word added to his vocabuIa1'y and he had resolved to stick to his guns to the last, and to make the fellows at VVells respect him. Being alone most of the time Hartwell had plenty of leisure after his studying was fin- ished. He formed the habit of taking long walks into the country and it was these tramlps that gave him his big idea. He sought out the athletic coach and told him the whole story. I know I can put it over if you help me, concluded the lad. But I don't want anyoiie to know about it until I've made good. VVhy, of course, I'll help you, said the coach, gripping Hartwell's hand. Thus began Hartwell's training for the cross-country team. In one of those tramps he had jogged around the twelve mile course, timing himself just for the fun of it, and later looked up the school's record. Of course it was far below the time of the school record, but the boy learned something he had not known before, that in him was the making of a long distance runner. The VVells cross-country team had been defeated three years in succession by the Stanton School, her nearest rival. The coach had been searching for material to bolster up his weak cross-country team with little success, and when he saw Hartwell in action, his eyes lighted up, and he muttered joyfully, VVhy, that boy is a regular find. The cross-country race took place between VVells and Stanton as soon as the ground had dried sufficiently in the spring. The course was spoken of as a howling terror. It swung around in a big circle over a range of steep hills where the ground was studded with boulders of all kinds and sizes, traversed an irregular section of recently cleared wood-lot, included a twelve-foot leap across a muddy stream and a quarter of a mile of marsh beyond it, followed a little used wood road for four miles and finished with a level two-mile stretch of macadam, which brought the runners to the tape in front of the gym. By agreement between the schools each team was to consist of five men and only the first three to finish on each side counted scoring points according to places secured. The lowest score won. Surprise and disgust was universal when James Hartwell's name appeared on the bulletin board as a member of the cross-country team. The Old Man's losing his punch, said one loyal spirit. The idea of sending a runner like Toodles Thompson to the bench. III III 143 Illll