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Page 15 text:
THE QUILL 13
Limericks Me an' the Girl Next Door
Now there once was a boy of East High BY J AMns WM. PAYNE
His pale face he 'd endured with a sigh.
So he bought a good brand,
Of rouge that was grand,
Now his countenance blinds ev'ry eye.
There was a young girl joined the shows
She danced for two years on her toes,
But one day in May,
She received her last pay,
'Cause she winked at other girls' beaux.
There was a poor sap from East High
Who decided he wanted to Hy,
So he went in a plane,
And was ne'er seen again.
Believe it or not, it's no lie.
l'here was a young man in this school
Who tried to break each single rule.
His teachers did scold,
But he tho 't himself bold 5
de ended by driving a mule.
There was a sweet lass 11a.med Corinne
Vho cleaned all her clothes with henzine g
It went 0E with a crash,
She came down with a splash,
ind now she ain't fit to be seen.
ome time I shall talk to a star,
lo which I shall say from afar,
Now, pray, where do you go
NVhen the sun starts to show,
,nd why are you just where you are 2
Every morning at eight o 'clock,
Sump 'in happens that I adore :
Just us a walkin' off to school,
VVho'?-Why me an' the girl next door.
VVe go a strollin' down the hall,
'Mongst the rumble and roar,
'Till we hear the home room call
Who ?-NVhy, me an' the girl next door.
XVe separate for sixty minutes,
An hour that seems like four,
An' I just sit an' wait, an, wait,
For what '?-VVhy to join the girl next
Oh, the happy tune that old bell rings,
YVhen my feet dash over the floor,
XVhat's the hurry, what's the scurry?
You ask-VVhy, to meet the girl next
She se11t a note that sailed as a boat,
To me across the floor,
The contents of this I never can quote,
'Cause it's-'Tween me an' the girl next
The teacher announced she's heard a
W'e'd been requested to talk no more,
She wanted to know just who it was,
Who ?-VVhy, me an' the girl next door.
At the close of school, exactly 3:15,
You'll march right in this door!
Oh! I t surely isn't me that you mean,
Yes-Me an' the girl next door.
At 3:15 we were in that room,
And silence was kind that hour,
What a torture! what a doom!
.For whom ?-Why' for me an' the girl
Page 14 text:
12 THE QUILL
An Electric Jolt for Fun
BY FRANCIS SHAW
OTHING to do, nothing to do.
Such thoughts were running
through my mind as I idly
watched' an airplane Hoating lazily
through the blue vault above. I was
being paid for watching it too, but be-
tween times I had to wait on our cus-
tomers for I was working in a station.
VVorking with me was another young
fellow named Carol. Now this said
Carol is chuck full of ideas of fun, and
his ideas furnished a great deal of
amusement for us two.
Know anything new we can do for
fun today?', I asked Carol.
Yeah, I was just thinking of some-
thing, he replied, just listen to this.
And he unfolded a plan which made me
chuckle to think of it.
VVe took an old automobile cushion
which we had been sitting on and placed
a three-foot piece of pipe in it, just under
the upholstering and resting on the
springs. Vtfe ran a wire from this pipe
through the station window and hooked
it to an apparatus which we had made.
This apparatus consisted of a six-volt
storage battery, a Ford coil, contact
points and a switch. The switch we
placed on the door casing so that We
could see the fun while operating it.
Well, one of us had to sit on the seat
to make sure that everything was all
right and that there wasn't too much
i'You try it, Francis, and I 'll just give
you a little jolt, came from Carol.
t'Yeah, you're sure funny, I shot
back, you get on there and let me give
you the little jolt.
No, that'll never do, replied Carol,
let's draw straws, the short one sits on
As you might expect, 1 got the short
one. I gingerly took the required posi-
tion not knowing when to expect the
jolt. I sat very, very lightly on that
cushion with my hands on the edge and
ready to jump off. Wham! I caught
that jolt right where I sit down, and
boy, did it tingle!
Owooooooooooo, came from me as I
lit on the ground about ten feet from
the cushion. Say, Carol, I've taken
100 volts in the hand many a time, but
that was nothing compared to what I
just took from that cushion, and I
wasnyt kidding him either, l carried a
red spot on my leg for several days where
I sat on that pipe.
Oh, yes, to be sure, I hung one on Carol
before an hour was up when he absent-
mindedly sat down after waiting on a
VVe had a great deal of fun out of this
idea until a friend got mad and tore the
wires lose after we had shocked him.
BY CORRINE AIAEXANDER
There is the garden at dawn
The flowers awaking,
Each is glorious with dew,
Joy in the making.
There are the trees in the wind
Their swaying is free.
A bird is giving his song
His gay trill calls me.
There are the far misty hills
That remain unmoved.
A green valley in between
By a stream is grooved.
Page 16 text:
14 THE Qlillil.
The Cruel Critic
OT IIO! The life-guards! Here
we are again, folks! Bigger and
better than ever! Get out the
sponges. You 'll need 'em after reading
Hliemodeled in Vain. For the tears
will come, shed them where you will.
Page Priscilla W'ayne5 we need some ad-
vice. Fan you imagine doing a reverse
on your personality, falling heir to
bli37,000. and still losing your one and
only? The worm will turn, but it hasn't
anything on our Remodeled Suitor.
Ah, well, good old Santa came anyhow,
riding on the silver lining behind the
dark cloud of gloom. Joy, Miriam
li'iefer's little poem, touches the right
spot. l'hristmas will bc Uhristnias.
The rustic bells ring,
The gay children sing.
W'e all like our presents so fine, so fue:
When pop secs the bill,
lIe'll uialfe out his will,
For papa is Santa Ulausf-
Oh, shoot! We eonldntt think of a
word to rime with Hfinef' but we do feel
sorry for the head of the household at
this time of the year.
Ach, du lieber Augustine! Hoch der
Kaiser! or something else Hollandish!
Maxine Uonkwright must have been born
with a pair ot' wooden shoes on her feet,
at least. Such a Dutchman, but you
ean't really blame him with those
Does experience teach a dear school?
Klieg pardon, is our quota-tion correet?j
lioy-o-boy-o-boy-oi-boy.l lVe're tallring
about The Perfidy of Womanf' Come
all ye disillusioned nien if ye want to
hear the story of a brace gentleman who
is not afraid to ery out in his anguish.
Delnier, we were curious to lfnow whether
lhose wrinkles in your manly brow were
caused by study or sorrow. Since perus-
ing the tragic recital of your bitter, ah,
bitter, bitter experiences, we know that
you hare been in the depths of despair.
I am not afraid to die. but I regret
that I have only one life to give for my
country. Like Esther of old, who pled
with the king for the lives of her captive
tribesmen, a new Esther arises to the
glorious defense of womanhood. Esther
had hardly finished the reading of Del-
mer's stirring tirade when she called,
Where's a pencil Get me some paper.
A ream! Two reams! Yea, maybe three
reams! Mr. Stratton reached in his
vest pocket. Ile pulled out his trusty
Eversharp. Ile put it back in his pocket
and pulled out a pencil of the 5-for-a-
nickel variety. You see, he knows the
ways of the QVILL staff. Then Esther
began to write. She may be writing yet.
We don 't know. But we grabbed off the
first two scorching sheets before they
burned up, and here they are, a reply
to Delmer. VVhat do you think ol Both
of them can't be right, can they? Or
Francis Shaw has a funny idea of fun.
lVe think there are enough electric chairs
in the world without inrenting new ones.
Oh, well, boys will be boys.
Poetry! A rhythmical outlet for the
emotions of human beings. VVe're rather
proud of our poems in this issue. Any-
body can write jingles, but not poems.
Il'e thought the day of the limerick
had passed. Not so! That five line
stanza with the whip-cracker conclusion
still knocks 'ent off. If you donit like
our limerielrs, bring your copy of the
QUILL baelf to Editor Shower, and he'll
stick: his hand down deep in the pocket ii
which he keeps his 'money-and tell you
he is sorry.
Tl12ll7S all. Still keeping those New
Year's resolutions? No, we aren 't either
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