Central High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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ART CLUB

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 Dearest Jane: I hare bought the tickets for the play and will meet you by the big gate at eight-thirty tomorrow night. Yours, Arthur. Just as I left for school next morning. I let the note slip naturally from my I ook. right where Mother would see it. All day I wondered about it and the result. It was a hard day and I grew more pessimistic as the front door hanged behind me that afternoon. Mother met me in the hall. Your father thinks it will be all right for you to go to the dance after all. So he and 1 will take you. Without hearing more I turned thankfully into my room—and there on my l ed lay that frilly dream of a dress! Kathleen Mckkkl. ’18. SPRINT, MKMRR XCKS “I)e springtime sun is shinin’ jes’ as warn as he can he. n' de mockin’-bird is singin' in de bloomin’ apple tree, While de ole man is a-dozin' by de little cabin do' Jes’ a-dreamin’ an' rememberin’ !c days of long ago. “How de young fo'ks after sunset, when ole night druv day away. I'sed t’ gather in de quarters for to sing an’ dance an play An' I amongst de udders, to de banjo's thumpin’ tune. Used t’ laugh an' dance an’ sing dere neath the golden southern moon. “Whilst de ole fo'ks on de do' steps scraped de fiddle for de dance I«aws a mercy! How deni niggers used t' shake dev feet an’ prance! n' de mammies stood a-bcatin’ time, an' swayin’ to an' fro. Like de saplin’s on de hill-top when de lazy souf wind blow. “Hut dat’s gone now, an’ dese niggers wid dere hi-falutin' ways I'ergit de good ole customs of de Ante-Helium days. An’ stead o’ dancin’ in de moonlight in de good ole-fashioned way. Dey ape de white fo'ks doin’s wid dere “Cullud Cabaray. “Hut don’t think dat I’sc complainin’. Lor', I'se happy as kin he! 'Caze I’se jes a plain ole nigger, an' dat’s all 1 wants t' l e Till ole Gab’rel blows his trumpet for to bring to life our dust: Den I hopes to he a angel, on de Right I land, wid de Just.” Pace In'riily onr —William Kinc., 11).

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THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF A SAMMY (. I.,'tier from a Seventeen-)’car-Old Soldier to His Mother) Hear Mamma:—1 don’t like this place detail. The other hoys would think I wan t a sport it they knew I wrote you such sob stuff, blit, hottest, mamma, being a Son 01 Freedom” doesn’t necessarily mean that one is a free son. I’m not. 1 m confined to barracks for three weeks and assigned to k. I', duty for the remainder of tin’s one. Let me tell you why they are administering a little discipline—1 assure you I am entirely blameless. Yesterday was Wednesday, the afternoon we “get off” to go to town, and 1 had a dale with a nice little girl. She's one of these blue-eyed, golden-haired kids who hasn t much sense, hut who can play Joan of Arc” and “Over There on the ukalele and who admires the tit of your uniform and the -dick of your pompadour all the time you are there. Naturally. I stayed so late I had to hire a taxi to get me back to camp in time—and at that 1 just did make it. So. of course when I go to bed so much earlier every Other night. I was so sleepy this morning that at the sound of the reveille I just couldn't get up, and so I was right in the midst of my shaving when the officer yelled, “Fall in!” But I dashed the soap off my face and ran, you had letter believe. We were drilling about ten o’clock and I thought I was doing splendidly for a recruit of two months (1 really can tell my right from my left and that's more than most of them can do) when along came Colonel Stone and with him— whom do you suppose?—Mary. Now. mamma. I ask you, what is a fellow standing at attention to do when a pretty girl, whom he has known all his life smiles at him but drop his gun and smile and tip his hat? That’s what 1 did—but evidently that isn’t the thing in army circles. Colonel Stone gave me an icy glare that would have frozen the Panama Canal and the sergeant who was drilling us turned purple with fury. the fellows roared, and Mary—kept on smiling. I picked up my gun and looked about the color I was when I was getting over measles, and tried to stand at attention, but the guy on my right was laughing so he shook my gun out of my hand. After they had passed on we went on drillingand all went well until time to wash. Then, when every mother’s darling was bending over a tub. scrubbing his khaki breeches till they attained that sickening molasses color. Colonel Stone led little Mary around to inspect the model laundry. This time I didn’t 7cant to speak. Honest Injun. I was so embarrassed I wished I could have fallen hind j art before into the tub. but I couldn’t, so I reached for the Octagon soap and went on with my socks. Ye had pork and beans and molasses and com bread and bacon and corn for dinner. There were some good-looking visitors for dinner and afterward we went over to the V M. C. A. and danced. I was almost sorry I wasn't sick when we took a peep at the non-contagious ward of the hospital because the girls raved over the lucky fellows there and promised to come again and read to them. Still, it isn’t necessary to be a sick soldier—I haven’t seen a girl yet who wouldn’t fall for a healthy one’s uniform. W hen I was going back to the Y. to write this letter, after the girls had gone. l toe tu'ruly-thrrt