Delaware Valley College - Cornucopia Yearbook (Doylestown, PA)

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THE GLEANER 9 Sammy went to the North Pole in search of adventure and finding absolutely good salablei ice there, is new im- porting the product from that region. I-Ie then drew out a circular from his pocket and handed it to me. It corroborated all his statements and went on to tell more of the Arctic Explorers adventures. A loud, Next stop, Park Row, brought me to my feet and bidding him a hasty farewell I got off, and walked over to the oflice. As I opened 1ny desk to look thru my mail a large bulky envelope dropped to the fioor with a loud thud. Wondering at its contents, I picked it up and opened it. From all appearances it seemed to be a story entitled, The larger the spoon, the bigger the tune, or the rea- son' of their divorce. Intending to give it to the fiction editor, I was about to lay it aside, when a note worked its way out from between the sheets. It was addressed to me and headed, An Appeal To An Old Friendf' By this time my curiosity was aroused and wishing to know who the friend could be, I turned over to the signature which read, Morris M. Schlossbergft Had I not read part of the story first I might have been surprised at the contents of the letter which told of the dire straits the writer was in due to jealous editors, who refused to print his stories for fear of him becoming fainocrz. Class- mate of mine, tho he was, my sympathies seemed to lay with the jealous editors, for who could forget those heartrending, blood-curdling stories he had written for the Gleaner, which had been the cause of more than one reader taking out a life insurance policy before attempt- ing to read another. Withpaper, now worth almost as much as gold it seemed shameful to waste so much, but still wishing to draw my salary, I decided to follow the safest path and gently laid the sheets into the waste basket. Vifhat was once a story was now only a tale. After perusing the remainder of my mail I closed my desk and left-homeward bound. I resolved to spend a quiet evening with my wife and child, as it was not very often that I was in town. Myt little son's desire had not been reckoned with, for a quiet evening, as he per- suaded' me to take my wife and him to the neighborhood playhouse. We arrived just as the villian made a daring esca- pade in the thrilling serial, Grapesl1ot, or, Tl1ere's a Reasonj, after which we were informed that it would be sheer folly to miss the next installment. The follow-

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10 THE GLEANER ing picture was an educational film on the process of extracting ore from powdered rock, by the use of mag- nets. A brief history told how Thomas Edison had failed in his several attempts, with the loss of two years time and a large sum of money. It, went on to tell how one Philip Harwitz, had secured a position with the Edison Company and his genius had been instantly recognized. Working hand in hand with the inventor they had per- fected itg Mr. Edison supplying the necessary nitgnela and Mr. Hurwitz his voice Qwhich was povcerful enough to draw tears from an undertaker, no less ore from rocklj. The next day, I phoned the manager and told him that I would not be in that day, as I was sending my mother-in-law to the Hoko Molto Isles and had to make it a fitting occasion. The real reason was, that the first game of the World series was scheduled for today and I wished to be one, of the spectators. It was now called the International Pastimej' for every l':',untrv on the Globe had a team represented in the League of Na- tions. Manager lien Joffes, American had won the the Western Hemisphere and were playing pennant in ' the unbeatable Cannibal' nine who had ate there way to victory in the Eastern Hemisphere. Manager Franks, Furters of Germany had finished up in the cellar which position they had held since 1919. Fate decreed that I should not see the game for as I b i t to enter the ball grounds I was grabbed from was a ou , behind and in five seconds 1ny wrists were encased in a pair of handcuffs. All 1ny protests and demands fell upon deaf ears and to my amazement and anger, I was escorted to the tombs where unquestioned I was placed in a cell. Knowing there must be a mistake somewhere and that it would only be a question of time, as to my release, I consoled myself by humming a few lines of our class song we had sung at N. F. S. It seemed a coinci- ' h d I dence that I should sing that song, for no sooner a finished a stanza, when I heard a weak, thin voice, which seemed to come from the cell adjoining me. On closer scrutiny, I discerned a medium sized fellow, who looked worn and weary from the secluded life. As I was ex- amining his countenance, for he did look familiar, he approached me and said in a broken voice, Why, Joe, don't you know me, I'm Hahne, say but that song cer- tainly did cheer me up some, even though, I'm sentenced to die next week for a crime I'm innocnt of. Mortified at