Central High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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The Star “Say, you Mr. Clarence Montague, ain’t you gonna come over anti have a game with us? You’re gonna «1 • such extraordinary fine acting for us, thought you might do the same in poker.” Mr. Montague frowned, shrugged his shoulders in lofty disdain—at the language- ami haughtily twisted his black moustache. He and an old Indian sitting near him were the only ones who were not enjoying the social hour. They all belonged to a movie company, hound for “Casa del Sol. a tiny western town, where a play of the ‘'wild and woolly” west was to be made, and where, incidentally, Clarence was to become a star. His companion, the Indian, suddenly leaned over and said: “You no been out here before?” “T have never been in the west before. answered Clarence, lifting his monocle and surveying the speaker. “West got no room for tender-feet. grunted the latter. “No room, no use. They no like it. no like us. and then he relapsed into silence, leaving the other to visions of the life of a star. He was aroused by the shouts of the conductor and the noise of unloading. Glancing out of the window a surprised look came to his face, for only a vast expanse of yellow sand covered with sage brush, with a shack or two in the distance, met his eyes. No station, no hotel, no town even, that he could see—none of the things which ho had expected. Finally he left the window and reached for his suit case, just as another actor came in. saying in a mimmicking tone: “Shall T help you with your baggage, dear? And perhaps you will allow me the great honor of escorting vou tn the wonderful, magnificent, luxurious hotel of “ 'Casa del Sol.’ At this. Clarence’s aspect brightened. “For surely. he thought, “there must he a grand hotel here to merit such praise, and followed the other out of the car. Up the main street they went, behind the other passengers, who were laughing and paying no attention to the scene around them. Trulv. there was nothing to he seen but dirtv. ragged Indian children, ramshackle frame houses and tin cans on every side. Straight up to one of the buildings with “Hotel painted above the door they went. “Here's where we’re gonna stav. said the leader, and seeing the disgusted. horrified look on Clarence’s face, burst out laughing. The latter went in. registered .and then went to the room assigned him. a dirty little hole on the second floor, with a bed. chair, dresser and a cracked mirror in it. While 19

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A Modern Wood Mymph A glimpse of her as she came down the mountainside, so young and so full of life, would make one understand what it is to live. She was slim and lithe of figure. As she stopped and listened to the call of the woods she reminded one of the gray squirrel in her quick pausing. Her breathing was gentle and easy, although she had come down a steep mountainside. She brought with her to the green and grey and brown of the woodland a new note of color, for her calico dress was like the red of some wild flower and her eyes were blue like the heavens. Her heavy brown-red hair fell over her shoulders in loose profusion. The simple dress was freshly briar-torn and in many places patched, but it still hung in graceful lines. She wore no hat, but the same spirit of childish fancy that made her eyes dance as she heard the calls of the birds, her friends, caused her to make for herself a headdress of leaves and wild roses. With such a crown she might well have been called the Queen of the Forest. As she stood with the toes of one bare foot twisting in the cool grass, she laughed with the pure joy of life and youth. MARGARET I.YKES, T6. Kamaraden KAMERA DEN. Note:—In the Spring issue of The Mirror, because of an error, the story, “Kameraden, was left incomplete. We take this opportunity to explain this regrettable occurrence and to give credit to the author. He wished he could stop the incessant roar. Now it was gone. He knew it was not so, but he seemed to be at his piano in his studio in Dresden. and Fritz was standing by his side, as he told his friend of the music. The arm which he lifted to take the sheet from his coat could not reach the top button. It dropped limply and he lay quite still. 18 FRED HARD. ’17.

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he stood there in the center of his room some one knocked. He opened the door and there stood the actor who had escorted him here. Hope you like it, old chap,” with a sweep of the arm around the room. “Come on down when you’re ready.” he said, and closed the door. Clarence stood there alone with his hands clenched. Oh, he thought, this is horrible —town people—this room everything is awful. Hut 1 will become a star in spite of everything.” The next day the rehearsals began. All was hustle and hurry. Shouts of the camera-man mingled with the director's orders: perspiring actors moved through the confusion and every one complained of the heat. The sun beat down with a pitiless glare. The long, white, alkali road, winding over the plain sparkled and sizzled with the heat; the short tufts of grass by the road were sere and white from the heat and dust, and even the cacti on every side were almost wilted, a rare defeat for these soldiers of the desert. Clarence stared at everything for a minute and then approached the director: “Hr ah—is there anything for me to do today ? he asked. Of course! why aren’t you doing your work instead of coming here asking what it is? Get out of my way and get on that horse over there. growled the director. The young actor walked over to his mount, stood and from a respectful distance examined it. Finally he went nearer and said. “Now, my good fellow. you arc going to behave nicely and let me ride you, aren’t you?” accompanied by a would-be pat on the neck. The horse turned viciously and nabbed at him just as the director came up. VVhat'che doin’, you big boob? Why don’t you get on that horse and begin instead of standing here blubbering like a two-vcar-old? Don’t you know you’re keeping everybody waiting? Hut I'd rather not ride him. You sec-------” What! Rather not ride him! You get on that horse and hurry up about it. too.” Gingerly. Clarence mounted the horse and had no sooner settled himself than it began tearing around the place amid shouts of, “See the wild west rider!” Watch Buffalo Hill!” and “Keep it up, Clarence, me boy. You’ll get to stardom soon.” Hat. gloves, monocle went flying in every direction, while their owner held to the saddle for dear life. First on one side, then on the other: forward, then backward he swayed just as the horse reared in a final attempt to shake off his burden, Clarence slipped off and ran like a streak to the safety of the hotel. t p the stairs he ran. dashed into his room, slammed and locked the door and then sat down. No vision of star life now. no lofty ambitions, only a great desire to get away from that awful place and a whole-souled wish for vengeance fired his mind. Through the rest of the day he sat in his room, not even venturing out for dinner. The sun beamed down on the huts and the heat in the room was almost unendurable. He sat there on the little bed trying to get c x l by fanning, although he knew that nothing could cool him off. Then he realized that the old Indian’s warning was true -“West got no place for tender- 20