Arsenal Technical High School - Arsenal Cannon Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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Qlibe Qrsenal Qiiannnn Tomorrows--A Tale of Yesterday xi smart gilded coach cuitly ordered f the fat driver on and sank back on the velvet cushions with a gioan 6 His lordship, the Prime Minister, ' had not been endowed by Nature with a sweet facial expression, and today-his thin lips drawn closely together in a convex line, his parchment nostrils purple with cha- grin, his sharp blue eyes squinted at the cor- ners-he looked like a jealous lover or a soon- to-be-murderer. He tugged at the lace ruH around his neck and loosed it. Beastly hot-this London-August too! All that sulphurous morning the patient Parliament had listened to the handsome King first plead-demand-then threaten for money, money. Always money! And Parliament want- ed to keep its money! The fashionable gilded coach rumbled over the cobblestones. The Prime Minister's irrita- tion faded and left him tired-tired of the world-or perhaps of London and its heat. Then his eyes caught the glint of a happy thought. With an amazing alacrity he re- moved the loosed ruff, slipped off his satin coat, deposited his gold Walking stick on the fioor of the coach, and threw his white wig to the seat with a shower of powder. As the coach reached Warcliff Highway he ordered the fat driver to halt. You may return to Camerly Hall at once, Folks, and inform Her Ladyship not to expect me home till the morrow. Folks, with gaping mouth, watched his mid- dle-aged master start at a brisk trot down Warclilf Highway. An' by cricketty, wit' out 'is rui, coat, 'at, er stick! Folks, being an obedient coachman, started to Camerly Hall. The Prime Minister felt a new something rise .within himself. How lovely were those great puffs of golden clouds! And those wild pink roses on the stone wall! Why, even the dust of the road was fascinating-how it crept over his pointed black slippers! His wine- colored silk stockings became a comfortable nondescript tone. His face fell from its tension to a pleasant softness. GD HE Prime Minister climbed into his I I Suddenly he saw a whistling figure coming toward him from Waterby Lane. It was a slender young fellow-a tradesman probably. On closer view he was not so young, but un- mistakably a tradesman. Whistling a tinkling tune, he turned on Warcliff Highway and walked along the road across from the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister tried not to notice him, but found it rather difiicult to walk down a pretty country road with a single companion and not be aware of his presence. The younger man spoke first. Bound for anyw'ere in partic'lar, brother?,' The Prime Minister, to the best of his be- lief, had never been called brother by anyone, and instinctively stiffened his spine. Eh? Headed any place especially, I mean? Why-that is-why, no. No place of which I know. Then, brother, you and me is bound together -for I'm just soakin' up this God-given day- wonderful, be it not? The Prime Minister remembered his impress- ion of the weather earlier in the day and smiled. Yes-yes, a God-given day. You be a London man too, I believe? Yes-a London man. I be too, the whistling tradesman volun- teered. Keep a cheese shop down on Garcey- man Square, and glanced at the Prime Minis- ter as though challenging a similar revelation. The Prime Minister, however, did not see fit to answer, and the two trotted together down the sun-bathed road. Three hours. Neither spoke. Both men found the silence sufiicient and comforting. To the cheese merchant, the Prime Minister was but another comrade of the open road. To the Prime Minister, the tradesman was symbolic of the simplicity foreign to his own life of fashion and intrigue. To such a pair, fulfill- ing as they did each other's need, conversation was banal. The brilliant August sun deepened to crimson, seeming to smile on the curiously mated men-

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Qtbe Qrsenal Qlianuun the Prime Minister and the husky cheese mer- chant, happy in his holiday and a comrade who knew the value of silence. The sunset came-a fitting finale to the bright day-a sky of cerise and scarlet with tiny purple clouds scattered at random. Both men were thoroughly tired-and both were desperately hungry. So they turned into a meadow where they saw a laughing little brook and sat down on the grass bank. And then they did a thing the Prime Minister had never done even in his stilted and highly-educa- ted childhood. They pulled off their shoes and stockings, thrust their feet into the cool run- ing water, and waded like school-children up- stream! Then they sat on the soft bank with their weary backs against a yew hedgeg and the tradesman brought out a package of cheese and buns. Never had his honor, the Prime Minister, in his long trail of banquets eaten so many buns and so much cheese and enjoyed the eat- ing as he did that sunset repast. They quenched their thirst with the brook water and watched the dusk creep in. Night. The cheese merchant smoked a strong- smelling pipe and finally fell to sleep under the high hedge. The Prime Minister lay in the long grass and gazed at the hosts of stars and the crescent moon above. What a ludicrous position for the mightiest lord in the kingdom-in a Warwick- shire meadow with a sleeping cheese merchant by his side! The world seemed so simple to- night. For a moment the Prime Minister thought he would gladly give all his power and prestige for another day of roaming and comradeship bliss. But his sense of humor as- serted itself. He was the captain at the helm of a great nation, his destiny was to rule. The carefree life of a tradesman belonged to an- other plane of society. The Prime Minister stretched himself out by the cheese merchant and sighed. Tomorrow there would be the handsome King-pleading -demanding-threatening-for moneyg and Parliament would want to keep its money. But what are tomorrows? The Prime Minister closed his sharp blue eyes. RUSSELL POTTER On Going to the Dentist Lives or breathes ct soul so rare Who ever to himself has said 'I love to sit in the dent-ist's chair!'? Meaning, of course, while he was on the way, waiting, or in the chair. Oh, many of us can, and do say that very thing-a day after the doctor has killed a husky pain, but who has ever said it while he was killing a husky pain? No, I am sure the great majority are like me. As a general rule, sometime in the night I awaken with a pain somewhere in my mo- lars, a pain that seems to have gat roarin' fou on -a rolling, rollicking rip and stab that seem to turn my whole mandible bone upside- down, shake it, ,pound it, stomp on it, and then start all over again. With a howl that brings the whole establishment to my side, I sit bolt upright in bed. From this time on until dawn, I have a most wonderful love for the extreme- ly worthy humanitarian helper of mankind. At that time my personal devil tires, and by the time for the fulfilment of my vow to go to the D. D. S. arrives, I am feeling in the pink of condition once more. With consoling,'peti- tioning, and commanding, I am finally induced to carry on. Hoping against hope that his time may be as Mother's hairdresser's always is, filled up, I call for his number. With ex- traordinary speed for her kind, the operator obtains my party. Doctor L's office, comes a sweet chirrup. Is-is by any chance-Doctor L there? I shiver. Why, certainly. The voice seem-s laughing at the things it has heard these many times, --but it happens he is busy just now. I sigh! Possibly he will be that way all day? slightly more hopeful. Well, let me see-- blasting my every hope, for I can guess from former experience that, as it is nine now, the appointment will be for ten. It is. I hesitate-- I-I think maybe-- Robert! ! ! comes a stern voice at my el- bow, and I am ,past the crossroads, and the appointment is settled. It is just as well if we skip the agonizing half hour that follows, during which I vow a thousand times to call back and cancel, and during which Mother's thousand vows to the