Madera Union High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Madera, CA)

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THE PURPLE AND ' WHITE 21 IV. Who must face the Executive Committee, And ask for coin, so meek, When the treasury’s low and empty, And steadily growing weak? Who is it gets no honors, Nor thanks for what he’s tried or done, To whom a scheduled game Is more worry than it is fun? The Manager. V. Who set those ill-fated dates, That brought such Saturday storms, That made apparent each player’s temper, In various different forms, But who knows ’way down in his heart, His power to allay all their cries, Just get a game away from home, And up to him they’ll all turn their eyes, The Manager. The Lost Door Key F ANNE NOBLE It was a dark night with the stars shin- ing and reflecting on the snow. Marjory was a tall, dark girl with merry, brown eyes and rosy cheeks. Her mother was dead, and also her father, consequert- ly she was left alone with the excep- tion of a maiden aunt—and a very maiden- ly aunt at that. This night she had gone to a party at a girl friend’s a few miles from her own home. Her aunt had told her to return early, about half past twelve, and she would find the key under the door mat; at the game time she had told Marjory to make the least noise possible for she (aunt) was easily awakened. At the party everything was at its best, and refreshments were being served when Marjory glanced at the clock and saw that it was actually twenty-five minutes to one. She told her escort, Jack, and some of the girls about it, but they said that for the sake of manners, she should wait and take leave of the hostess properly. She knew that it was wrong for her to remain longer, and that she really ought to go home, yet she finally decided to stay. At just half-past one, fully an hour after the time she promised to return, she got into Jack’s sleigh and was carried swiftly off, : When they arrived at her home Jack helped her out and she bade him good- night. As he started to go she called after him, saying, “Oh Jack! the key is not here, what shall I do?” After tying the horse, he came to help her. They turned the mat, lit matches and looked in cracks, and under. doors and windows, but still no key. Jack advised her to ring the bell, but she answered that every night, her aunt or- dered the maid to disconnect the bell rope because it bothered auntie. So there they stood, both pictures of despair. After many moments they de- cided that Jack should help her in the window after breaking it. Then she could steal quietly up stairs and to bed. Marjory crept softly and slowly down the hall as far as the stair-way. Then to her astonishment and dismay, she saw a faint light shining through the keyhole of the kitchen door. She thought of burglars at once for there had been several burglaries in town recently. She stood terrified for an instant, then flew back to the window to call Jack, who was just about to untie his horse. He hurried to the window and she whispered to him, ‘Oh Jack, there are burglars in the kitchen. What on earth shall I do? We must be very careful not to awaken auntie.” “Never mind Marjory,’ exclaimed Jack, “We'll fix it all right. First I’ll peek in and see what they look like. Then won’t we fix t hem though, for being so rude as to scare a lady.” “All well enough, Mr. Jack, for you to pretend to be so brave,” said Marjory, “‘but you can’t fool me. You are just as scared as I am.”’

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20 THE PURPLE AND WHITE pressed his opinion as to the mental de- ficiency of the one who made this ar- rangement and prudently made it more safe by storing in it several bales of cotton and a spring mattress, so if it was ever left open and anyone descending the stairs fell into it, the consequence would not be so serious. Fritz had often thought how fine it would be to wait until a burglar had gotten half way up the stairs, raise the door by a rope from above and frighten the burg- lars by a great noise so he would fall into it on uis retreat. All'this came to him now and, in spite of his shaking knees, he found a rope, climbed down stairs and fastened it to the huge staple in the door, and climbing up, returned-to the place directly above the lower landing and tied the other end to the-bannister, having put a stick under the door to prevent the auto- matic latch from catching. But how was he to scare them back? He solved the difficulty by tying a long piece of binding twine to one of the lower of a pile of tubs, boilers, pans and other articles of tinware, which had been piled dangerously high at the head of the stairs. With the two ropes in his hand he took his stand directly above the foot of the stairs. In-a few minutes he saw two shadowy figures steal slowly up the stairs. With his heart beating fast and his knees quaking faster, he gavé a puli on the rope from the door that brought it wide open and gave a mighty tug on the cord connected with the pile of tinware. The two burglars fled in haste from the thund- ering avalanche of tinwaré launched on them. One followed the other into the vault and Fritz dropped the rope, the door closing with a bang. Fritz ran triumphantly down the stairs and hurriedly ran an old and unused safe onto the door of the vault. Then in a high Swedish treble he piped down a knot hole, ‘‘You had better not break through mit der door or the safe will fall and you will get smashed. Maybe so it will break through anyway and you will get smashed into jelly, -But I hope it don’t,” he added-reflectively, “for hinges and doors costs money. I go now for der policeman.”’ He at once proceeded to run for ‘“‘der policeman,’’ who was, however, only a town ‘marshal. The door did not “smash through” and fifteen minutes later two very much dis- gusted burglars were lifted out of the vault. Fritz is now a young man and has com- plete charge of the store for his father has always considered it safe to trust the boy who defended the store so well from burg- lars. The Manager. I. Who is it that the captain asks, When will we have a game? Who knows there is not one in sight, But’s hopeful just the same? Who must write the many letters To every town we know, Fill ’em with big sounding things, Which he knows isn’t so? The Manager. Ti, Who is the one to whom, They so secretly confess, “O, please put off the game a weex, Then I’ll have my fine new dress?’ Or who is carefully drawn aside, To hear this other plea, I want to hunt tomorrow, Postpone the game for me? The Manager. III. Who must face the majestic faculty, Each time their honors meet, And beg his team’s good recognition, So humbly at their feet? Who is held tq answer For all that’s said and done; When the team’s away from home, Who is the responsible one? The Manager,

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22 THE PURPLE AND WHITE After this remark nothing would have induced Jack to back out, though he real- ly was rather frightened. But when he peeked through the keyhole he could hardly keep from laughing aloud. What do you suppose he saw? Bridget, the cook, was holding hands with a great, fat Irish policeman. The table was set for two. The best chicken and dressing, salads and cakes were on the table, and there on the corner of the table was the poor lost key, which Bridget had forgotten to put out for Marjory. Softly calling to Marjory Jack told her what he had seen. Then they both decided to give the lovers a scare. Going to the hall closet Marjory got two sheets and after making themselves look as ghostly as pos- sible, they started on their early morning parade, Bridget screamed and Mike turned pale, but neither uttered a word of command to try to drive these undesired visitors away. Finally Bridget poked Mike and mo- tioned to his club, and the great policeman, understanding her meaning, started for- ward with club in hand. But a ghastly hand reached out toward him. This was too much for both Mike and Bridget. Mike fled out of the house, and Bridget tore up the back stairs to her own room. After scaring them both off Jack and Marjory went back to the table with happy faces. Laughingly they finished the sup- per and Jack took his leave, hoping that Bridget would recover from her fright enough to be able to get breakfast. Marjory was still giggling as she went up stairs, but when she reached the first landing, her giggles stopped abruptly, for there stood her aunt, a stern figure, point- ing to the hall clock which said three o’clock. “Marjory,” said her aunt, angrily, “if you ever go to a party again, I want you to understand that you are to come home with another girl, not with a boy. Then perhaps you will get home in a decent sea- son.”’ . “Yes ma’am,” said Marjory, very meekly, as she went to bed thankful to get off so easily. Little John and the King. PAUL HUSTED The king sat in the golden house, Talking with Robin Hood, Sometimes agreed and sometimes not As how conditions stood. And Little John was there near py He of the lily-white hand, And on one side of Little John Was seen the archer band. The King conversed in tones so loud He made Sir Robin mad. But Little John to Robin said A boon would make me glad. What is the boon Sir Robin asked And Little John replied By this cruel king in front of me My temper is sore tried. And I would kill him on the spot, (Displaying a large knife) Now Robin grant this boon to me That I may take his life. The boon is granted, Little John And he took him by the hand And said, “you are an archer brave The best in all the land. This king is now opposed to us And not an ideal man Does not respect the fairer sex So kill him if you can.” And Little John went towards the king And threw him to the ground They tumbled forth and tumbled back And tumbled all around. But John at last was victor The king was almost dead And with the xnife he had displayed He severed the king’s head.