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

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TIMCDTHY SAVES THE DAY By KATHERINE HERBERS PERCHED HIGH in a crotch of the tall maple, Timothy scanned the surrounding country with a proprietary air. He blinked his eyes in pleasure as he noticed the long, smooth stretch of green grass against which the trees in their outrageous autumn garb of red and yellow made a flagrant contrast. In front of him was the house, an immense and noble structure in brick with stone trim- mings and numberless French windows, dear to Timothy's heart. He, as countless others of his tribe, could not resist a comfortable window in which he might doze in the warm, benevo- lent eye of the sun, and dream, in the im- mutable manner of felines, of plump, white mice which crunched ever so delightfully be- tween the stiletto-sharpness of pointed teeth, of rich, thick cream which flowed ever so slow- ly down the long, warm pinkness of a throat, or of that pungent prize of Catdom, catnip. Timothy's musings were rudely punctured as from behind him came the sound of gravel crunching under the weight of large, firm feet. Now, though cats are not supposed to reason, Timothy knew very well that this particular hour of the afternoon was tea-time when all the family, guests, and servants would be busy inside the house. So, with a wicked gleam in his large, green eyes, he rose, balanced him- self upon the narrow branch, arched his back, and hoisted his tail to a vertical position. Helpl Help! A cry of anguish was forced from a tall, debonair young man. He lost his balance and toppled to the ground as a twenty-five-pound sandbag armed with dia- bolical steel claws smote him upon his unpro- tected head, The Honorable Timothy had arrived! I-Ielp! Aunt Anne! Celeste! Help! He raised both hands to his head. A yielding soft- ness met his touch. O-o-0-w! Whatexfer it was, he thought wildly, it could scratch! There was a tiny trickle of blood in his eye. Carstairs! Celeste! Help! At that in- stant the front door burst open and a crowd of rescuers surged forth. Oh, Aunt Anne! Itls that wretched Tim- othyf' shrieked an indignant feminine voice. Seat, you brute!'l The Latest Fashion in Detectives With that, the mysterious assailant bounded from the grasp of the bewildered and bloody young man and disappeared with a triumphant flirt of his tail around a corner of the house. Good grief! It's old Robin! USO it is. 'lRobin Dunforth! What are you doing here like this? Oh, his poor head! I say, Robin, a juvenile voice accosted the dazed Robin, how did you happen to tangle with Timothy? Timothy? He gazed blankly at the speaker. Who's that? Aw, let Celeste tell you. She's so crazy about him. Celeste will do nothing of the sort,'l said that young woman. Robin, you're coming along with me to let me doctor those terrible scratches. Ugh-h-h! That Timothy! The rest of you might do something besides ask senseless questions, and she grasped Robin by the arm and headed for the house. Sometime later when the semblance of peace had been restored, Robin told his tale to the clinking of tea cups. KCOnlinued on page 322 6

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MARY ELIZABETH WOODS E SHOW A MAN once saw a la and he said I shall never P Y , forget it. But he did. Later the man acted in a play, and again he said, I shall never forget thisf' And he never did. Every line, every thought, every character, every bit of laughter, and every change of setting he re- membered, and, in remembering, reveled. It is not that which we View from afar that lives to linger in our memories, but that of which we are a part. We are now all a part of a great play, a vi- brant and powerful play not to be forgotten, our high school years at Tech. And as a part of this performance we know the greatness of its power. We value every lesson born of hon- est work and every standard set high. And being active in this power we shall always re- member its significance. Moreover, like the man, we shall not forget the characters, the settings, and the bits of fun, because, like him, we are a part of these. Friendly little details and incidents always cap- ture memory's choicest corners. Who of us will ever forget the famous landmarks of Techs campus made vivid by the powers of friendships as they form the setting for our play! What true Tech heart will ever fail to love the grand old Arsenal tower and the fountain, scenes of precious comradeship, or the lunchroom, a stage for our fun and com- edy! Which one of us will not treasure friend- ships gleaned from such a stage-friendships developed in tragedy and friendships reaped from a happy hour, all set to the value of flaw- less gold! Soon the curtain will fall for over nine hun- dred of us. But it will rise again and then- i'On with the shown! There will follow more for memory's store-house, and always it will link hands with this, our play of today. No, we shall not forget this play, for it is ours. MARY ELIZABETH WOODS. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS As the ARSENAL CANNON strives to be wholly representative of Tech, so we have se- lected, by contest, literature typical of student achievement. The three contests-short story, essay, and poetry-granted three places for each division: first, second, and third places to the English I through IV division, and first, second, and third places to the English V through VIII division. We extend our appreciation to the following teachers who served as judges for the contest: short story-Miss Margaret Remy, Miss Olive Brown, and Miss Olive Traylor, essays-Miss Grace Bryan, Miss Narcie Pollitt, and Miss Clarissa Morrow, and poetry-Miss Ruth Bozell and Mr. Bjorn Winger. Prize-winners are as follows: Short story, uppewlaffmefz-Katherine Her- bers, first place, Barbara Dyar, second place, and Herbert Hunt, third place, zznderrlammen -Virginia Volz, first place, Myla Udell, sec- ond place, and Richard Weis, third place. Essays, zzppercfafrfnefz -Betty Stilz, first place, Grace Fairchild, second place, and Lois Stevens, third place, underclammen-Harold Calbert, first place, Wilma McCallian, second and third places. Poetry, upperclafmzen-Kathrine Ross, first place, Eve Stanton, second place, and Kather- ine Herbers, third place, zmde1'claJrmen-Rob- ert Resiner, first place, Edith Edmonds, second place, and Mary Louise Milbourn, third place, honorable mention in poetry-Marcella Wires, Katherine Herbers, and Helen Marie Clements. Here, also, we acknowledge the writing of the following articles by English classes: The last will and testament, written by Mrs. Jeanne Bose's VIIc class, the prophecy, by Mrs. Eva Lycan's VIIc class, the senior jingles, by Miss jane Strain's VIIc class, senior advertisements, by Mr. D, C. Park's Advertising II class.

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,W A ,ff COURAGE GUTWITS DEATH TOM ROLLINS, a young airplane mechanic, lived in a small Nevada mining town. His one ambi- tion was to make a new record in flying. The small plane of which he was the proud posses- sor, he had named Old Faithful for she never failed him when he needed her. He took great pride in going over his baby thorough- ly. At first he had called the plane Silver Bird because of her silver color, but he had presently discarded this for Old Faithful as more nearly typifying the steady, dependable way in which she served him. One could hardly blame him, for the little plane was truly faithful. Then one night after Tom had carefully locked Old Faithful in the dilapidated shed which served as a hangar for the plane, he went to bed, noticing as he prepared for sleep that a storm was coming up. About midnight he was partially aroused by a persistent knocking on his bedroom door. What is it?l' he sleepily called. The only reply was a frantic continuation. Fully awake now, Tom sprang out of bed and into a worn dress- ing gown, and then opened the door. There stood his landlady and a squalid foreign wom- an who lived with her husband and son in a rotting old house on the outskirts of town. 7 The greasy-looking woman tearfully explained OLD FAITHFUL By VIRGINIA VOLZ that her husband had left a small phial of poison on the table, intending it for himself, but that their little son had swallowed some of it. She had come to beg Tom that he go to the nearest town, which was a hundred and fifty miles away, and bring a doctor. The only doc- tor in their little town had been called away on a case which he could not leave. Tom gave one glance at the woman's plead- ing face and another at the storm brewing out- side. Then he nodded. All right, he said, and began pulling on socks and heavy shoes, amid the tearfully guttural thanks of the for- eign woman. Dressed and ready, he went down to the shed where Old Faithful reposed. He took down two dusty parachutes, strapped one on himself, and placed the other in the plane. As he took off, he shook his head dubi- ously at the ominous thunder. However, every- thing went well on the way. Tom and the doctor were soon ensconced in the snug little plane, prepared to do battle with the heavens. Meanwhile the storm had grown more fierce and the plane less steady as she met the rush of air currents. Finally, Tom was forced to make a landing, but it was so near their destination that the doctor was able to arrive on time. Tom, after seeing the woman clasp her darling in her arms, went out in the graying dawn to his darling, Old Faithful. He paused, gazing wistfully upon the battered wings. You have certainly served me well, old Pal, and even though we didn't break any records, we saved a life, and that's worth something. just then the doctor came across the field. I want to be the first to congratulate you on your courage, my boy. Say, your planes pretty well damaged, isn't it? the doctor very good-naturedly asked. Yes, she's pretty much battered up,l' ad- mitted the boy. The doctor, as he walked away, wondered if he had really seen tears in the boy's eyes. He turned and hesitated with friendly concern. What's the matter, boy? he asked kindly. Oh, uh, er, nothing. Must be the cold, Tom replied as he gazed regretfully at his be- loved plane. i'Old Faithful to the last,'J he muttered and walked away.