Katherine Delmar Burke School - Works and Days Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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WORKS AND DAYS third year was our representation of famous paintings given for the Senior class. We have striven to end our school career by taking part in all athletics and activities and our Senior days are very full, but not full enough to pre- vent our thinking with heavy hearts of leaving our House of Dreams and the personality that has made our girlhood so wonderful. K. CHACE AND D. JACKSON, '22. 'ri-1,2 1 l-fu.iN- -5 H 7- fa 'w f- 5 ',,, Axnazf.-z' ls 1 5421 - 2127 Q JE f 1 ,gk 15,4 4545 1--'fc 4M '.f- f i l 1 3 lull ' i 1 Lei' r l lmjilll , ..............,... .,.. I .. ' 1:-.:r wi

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WORKS AND DAYS Any Port in a Storm ILLIAM stepped softly across the creaking board in the upper hall, and opened his sister's door with a modicum of noise. True, the whole family were aiding and abbetting his proj- ect, but there was no reason why Mamie should know of x his fall from manliness. It was all his mother's fault anyhow. had more consideration than to have fried fish, the most odoriferous dish of his acquaintance, for dinner. In the subdued light of his sister's room he felt his way towards her dresser. He felt around, and his fingers closed on the little cut-glass vial he sought. Llodeur du Sphinx. The name was good anyhow, Sphinxes were always possessed of a certain awe inspiring grandeur. It was just what he needed. He sprayed it liberally over his coat front, where it mingled belligerently with the odors of gasoline and the all too present fried fish. He retraced his steps silently, and reached his own room. He looked at himself complacently in the glass, and ran his hand over the shining abund- ance of his Well bandolined hair. The bandoline came off on his hand in sticky streaks, and he had to wash it again. While in the bathroom his eye lighted on the shaving mirror which he unhooked from its shelf and carried into his room, where, by dint of careful craning he managed to see the smooth red streak of the back of his neck with the sudden line of thick hair, Cut real tasty, as the barber had assured him. It was a beautiful sight, and in his deep appreciation he sneezed. That was his curse. Where normal people laugh or cried or became furious as the occasion demanded, William had but one means of expressing himself, and it was impossible to forestall it. He always sneezed loudly and completely. When he was born into this world of toil and trouble instead of omitting the weak, querilous wail that is baby etiquette, he sneezed. A thin, reed like sneeze, but still the genuine article. And it had always lasted. He had never outgrown this afHiction. He felt through all his pockets to see that he had the required articles with which to face this ordeal, and assuring himself of the fact he turned down the gas to a mere blue glimmer, and went down stairs. His mother came out from the kitchen door and looked him over appraisingly. Then her voice broke in high and plaintive: 'KNow William, if you feel that sneeze comin,' just put yer hank'cher up to your nose and press hard, up. It ought to stop. William nodded, and went out of the door. The street was dark, so all the way to Thelma's house he practiced so much with a mirror that he knew by the feel of his muscles that he was registering the proper emotions. He felt again of the handkerchief in his breast pocket, and settled his white mi lf' ' . ,. 715' ' af. She, realizing the gravity of the situation, really should have I '