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

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When he asked the clerk if anyone had left a message, the clerk said yes, that a young lady had come and left word to tell one Edwin Woodley that she had gone on. Was that what he wanted to know ? hat was a nice mess! He guessed he had been slow. Nothing to do but tag along. When he got there, nearly everyone had arrived. There was a masked girl over there that looked like Corliss, especially her hair. She was staring at him. She surely must be Corliss. Ed looked around the crowd, but he didn’t see anybody that looked like Clayton Wallace. Clayton was shorter than the other kids. Must be he wasn’t coming. That was a peculiar dress Corliss had on. Kind of a funny green, Ed euessed he’d go ask her to dance as soon as the music started for the next dance. When the time came, he started across the room but on his way he met Annabelle and had to stop and say hello. While he was thus detained, his chance flew away. The girl in green had already gone. Too bad. Just his luck. When the next dance began, Hd went across the room to ask Corliss to dance. “Well,” she said, “do you think you deserve it the way you treated me? Of course I know you tried to avoid me.” What was the matter with her voice? Must be the cold that every body was catching. “Tow did you know who IT was?” asked Ed. “Don’t you think I’d know who you are? But you did try to avoid me didn’t you?” “No I didn’t. Honest! I—well. 1 had a—little accident.” “A poor excuse is better than none. sut Vl forgive you. TLet’s dance.” That was funny. She usually didn’t give in so quickly. She went on meditatively, “You know, Eddie, I really think I like vou better than ‘most any other boy I know.” “That's funny.” Eddie said, “T like you better than any girl IT ever did know.” Ed felt so good now that he could almost love Clayton. Poor old Clayt. However as the dance didn’t go on forever, they couldn’t go on talking about such interesting things. When Ed had gone back to his corner he began thinking about how wonderful life was. He wondered what his friend Clayt Wallace was doing now. The more he thought about things the happier he got. Finally the time eame for unmasking. Ea felt that he must be on hand to see his girl in green take off her mask. He surely was not going to miss that. When he found her, she said she had been waiting for him to come before she took off her mask. Ed was far too happy to ask questions. The girl told him to unmask first, which he did. She then very carefully untangled the string of her mask from her hair, and then— What was she doing? It came off! A wig! A practical joke! What a dirty trick! What a fool he’d been! And Clayton Wallace of all people! Say, wasn’t he, Edwin Woodley, going to skin that boy’s hide? 2S)

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“Edwin !” “Aw, I’m coming.” “Go to the drug store and get your poor sister her medicine. What have you heen doing all this time?” “Charee it 77 “Of course. What have you been doing in here?” sway notin “Don’t be so sullen. Your tie is crooked and your hair looks very un- by) “Yes Mom.” Tle went out the door with an air that could not possibly have been mistaken for cheerful. What did mothers know about it anyway? They couldn’t understand what it felt like to have a rival. tidy. It was Friday morning, and Ed was as sure that he wasn’t going to An- nabelle’s party as he was that his name was Edwin Woodley. By afternoon he was not quite so gure. Everyone had been counting the hours and minutes till night, and wondering if he would have a good time. Corliss was at school in the morning, and Ed didn’t know ; perhaps one was foolish to let a mere girl spoil one’s evening. There was that suit with the red hearts—but no, The wouldn't go. That afternoon Ed came home firmly reso lved to go to the show, and not to the party. About 5:30 in the afternoon someone called up, and Ed answered the phone. The voice on the other end was feminine and it sounded familiar. She asked for Edwin, and finding that she was speaking with Edwin, she in- formed him that she was Corliss, and that complications had ‘arisen; ‘which made it possible for her to stay in town that night, and in sidentally to go to Annabelle’s party—with him if he’d take her. All right, she’d meet him at the drug store. Girls weren’t so bad after all. At least this one wasn’t. She was going to let him, Edwin Woodley, and not Clayton Wallace, take her to Annabelle’s party. Where was that silly costume? Must be kicking around somewhere. At 7:30 P. M. Edwin was among those te at the drug store. There had been a considerable struggle to get tt ear, and his mother told him to start so early, but then what was the use of hanging around home when you might be at the drug store. and also he cer tainly wasn’t going to miss Corliss. , Golly! What had ha ppened The neck of his costume was all ripping. Must be that string sis called a draw string. We'd told ’em it wasn’t strong enough. Well, nothing to do but 20 home and have it fixed, thereby wasting some more gas which might have been used to better ad- vantage after the party. He made the distance in record time, but when they started fixing him up, his mother and sister never seemed to have been so slow in their lives or his. Sis seemed to be in extra high spirits. She seemed also to be more of a hindrance than a help. The clock at home said only 7:30. He must have looked at the drug store clock wrongly. He got back to said store when the hands of the clock there were point- ing to 7:55! Now what was he goine to do? 24

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Oh, no, perhaps not! How under blazing sun, moon and stars was he going to do it? But he’d surely do it some how! an The Song of the Brook SHO IMSL WMBAILIL, “De Softly I heard it trickle, Softly, then softer still, First sending sounds of music Then it would be a trill. Tenderly calling the violets, Then softly it called the rose. What, where, when, you are saying Oh, my, silly, what do you s’ pose Tis the brook that’s in the meadow, In the Spring time when winter just goes. Its song it sings so gayly, Is quite a musician’s song Notes that are short and sprightley Notes that are tender and lon These notes have tender harmony, These have sweet echoes and trills, Tis the call of the wild sweet springtime. Which echoes thru all the hills. o S: Tis music, I’ve told you so often, Why is it you can’t understand? When the flowers are springing go sweetly ’Tis the touch of a pretty hand, The touch of Spring on the meadow, That makes them as green as e’er, The touch of Spring on the brooklet That makes it run sweet and fair. Now come with me to the meadow, I'll show you the wonders there, Pll show you the haunt of the woodchucek, Pll show you the haunt of the hare. There’s naught for the blood like the sourdock That grows on the rim of that brook 3 There’s trouble enough in the daytime, But just as the sun’s going down I'll take you down by the brooklet And drive away every frown. —ALICE PARKER, 724. 26