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Page 22 text:
LUCK " Lost: a golf scarf-pin with initials R. C. engraved on back. Greatly valued as a keep-sake. If found, return to 30 Shoreway Drive. " Mervm Conelly looked first at an object in the palm ot his hand, then at the newspaper, lying before him., and once more his eyes turned to the object. It was a small golf scarf pin, and turning it over he saw again the initials R. C. " With this, " he said to himself, " I ' d be able to buy food for another week, and if I return it maybe all I ' ll Ret is gratitude. And you can ' t l ive on gratitude, " he ended bitterly. " Then on the other hand there may be a reward, though there was none offered. " Still puzzling upon this he went to bed. During the nig-ht he had a curious dre m. He seemed to be going on his wav to return the scarf-pin, and when he reached the house and had given the pin to the fervently thankful owner, he was given a gold mine. Still v andering in the rcsv hued paths of his dream, Nlervin work up, to find himself still in his shabbv room, and the problem of what to do still before him. He lav in bed thmkins- and then with sudden resolve he got up. AVhen he finished dressing, still with a firmness in his step, he walked out of the room and down the street. As he paced along, he reasoned with himself, " I ffuess it ' s the m st profitable wav out. and the pawn-shop will give me at lea ' t twentv dollars. " Uoon reaching his desti- nation, he saw to his dismav that the shop was closed and empty. Bewild- ered he turned around looking for an explanation, and he was satisfied by a nearby loafer. " Yep, he ' s sold out, just plain busted, " the man drawled in a lazy monotone, " He moved yesterday. " " Thanks, " answered Mervin, and he moved on murmurmg quizzi- cally, " Imagine a pawnshop keeper going broke. " Then he added, " well, I guess the thing for me to do now is to take it down to Shorewa} Drive and receive the owner ' s gratitude, if nothing else. " After several miles of hard walking Mervin came to 30 Shorewa} ' " Drive, and to his surprise found himself standing in front of a palatial m.ansion. Full of awe he walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. The door was opened by an imposing butler, who, after Mervin had explained his mission, ushered him into the library, where he was joined presently by the ovrner of the scarf-pin. A large, well formed man entered the room and greeted Alervin saying, " I am Robert Cimbell, of the Cimbell and Morgan Steel Co., and I understood you to say you had found my pin? " Mervin handed over the pin, and after an examination Mr. Cimbell exclaimed, " Yes it is! My boy, hov can I ever thank 3 ' ou for finding this? But, there is a reward. Would Sioo be enough? " Mervin could only gasp, " Oh, but sir, I can ' t accept that! "
Page 21 text:
The Stream A stream has many moods, yon tinonj! Times of c oeer, times of woe. To travel wloere the ivaters fioiv, Is my ambition. I must go! At times a stream is happy, bright. Goes o ' er the falls, dancing light. Sometimes through thiclzets, dark as night. It floivs sadly, out of sight. I thinti. the stream ' s a funny tiding. Sometimes it cries, sometimes sings, It maJies your soul ivitJo fervor ring, It plays on your heart. It pulls the strings. Betty Lou Howard, Lokj Nine. A LADY AT HER FIRST FOOTBALL GAME " Oh John! What a crowd of people there is here today. It must be an important game! " " Oh, no dear, this is only some little team they are playing today. " " Well, now that we ' re in John, let ' s find a good place to sit. Oh, I wish we had gotten loges. " " Don ' t be silly, dear, you can ' t get loges at a football game. " " Well, let ' s find a good seat anyway. Oh, here comes the team, John. Hooray for our side! " " Don ' t yell, dear, that ' s the opposing team. " " Oh, John, they are beginning to play. " " Come on Joe! Handle the pigskin. " " Oh, John, where is the pig? Oh! that man threw the other man down. " " Of course, of course, silly, he was tackling him to get him down, " " Well it certainly would get me down if anyone threw me that hard. Anyway, John, he could have gotten farther if he hadn ' t been tackled. " " Oh, Mabel, won ' t you shu — " he quit for just a little while. " Dear me, John, you needn ' t act that way about it. " " No, no, of course not. " " John, what is the object of this game anyway? " " Oh, you see, one team tries to get the ball over the other team ' s goal line, and in that way make six points. Then if the man with the ball gets away they all try to tackle him. " " Oh, I see, John. Well, why don ' t they tackle him? He has the ball. " " Oh, oh, oh, he ' s the referee, silly. " " Well, how am I supposed to know that? " " Oh never mind, Mabel, you ' re hopeless. Let ' s go home. " Bill Brock, High Nine.
Page 23 text:
Mr. Cimbell answered briskly, " tut, tut, my boy, it was worth it. " And he thrust the check into the boy ' s unwilHng hand. Then Mr. Cimbell looked at the boy keenly, " Have you a job? " he asked. " No, " replied Mervin, " I haven ' t. " " Well, " said Mr. Cimbell, " I have been looking for an assistant to my bookkeeper. So you want the job? It ' s only thirty-five dollars a week, but it could do for a start. " All Mervin could do when he got outdoors again was to thank his lucky stars that the pawnshop had been closed. Patricia Bowman, HigJj Nine. SPOT ' S HUMILIATION " Put him in the woodshed, " came the fatal sentence in Mother Scott ' s stern voice, so Johnny picked Spot up with a gentle hand and put him in the woodshed. Unaccustomed to the darkness Spot gave vent to his feelings with a very ungentlemanly howl. Was it his fault if little sister left the parlor door open and he had some fun with the drapes and the cutest little pottery cat? Here the thought changed as he recalled the fun of the three hours just passed that had rewarded him with a sound spanking and the disgrace- ful dumping of him, the best looking dog in the neighborhood, in the woodshed. Jurruph! Maybe the fact that there was some way of freeing himself crossed his mind as he turned to the nearest wall and started digging. A ray of light finally rewarded his frantic efforts. A few more hasty scratches and he was free, but no longer was he the best looking dog in the neighborhood. He was now the dirtiest dog for miles around. Trotting over to the fish- pond he plunged in and cleaned himself, and then jumped out, shook him- self as dry as possible, and was on his way. Free at last, he took it upon himself to wander over the town and see the sights. Thus that morning the people on their way to work were honored by having an inquisitive, bright, little fox terrier trotting after them. His bright eyes were taking in every happening and his cocked ears not only lent him a saucy look, but allowed him to hear every sound. Finally tiring of this, Spot turned to the residential section where after half an hour of meaningless prattle with every strange dog, his bright eyes took a sudden bulgy look as he glanced upon a ladylike Pomeranian picking her way down the street with dainty steps. Leaving his new made friends he walked across the street and made a few gentlemanly sniffs and was rewarded with a distinct rolling of two eyes in his direction and a dainty toss of his lady ' s fluffy brown head. After a few nose rubs, they continued on down the street together. Even Spot and Fluff admitted they were the best looking couple on the street.
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