Mechanic Arts High School - M Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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T H E MH and went to join the group who were discussing the weather, the neighbors who were not there, and the affairs of the world in general. She heard how Bill Bronson's girl was going in for the state scholarship, how llarker's new baby was very sickly, how Kate lyloloney was to be married in March-arid just fancy, she only met her fel- low in Brisbane last October. The district pessi- mist had a group of his own to whom he was proclaiming lf we don't soon have rain, the grass will all dry up and nothing be left for the cattle to eatf, VVhen some one raised the ob- jection that things were prety good this year, he replied, VVell, of course, you haven't lived here as long as l have, as for myself, I haven't seen things look so bad in twenty years.'l just at this moment the rattle of the mail coach coming down the hill could be heard. Soon it came around the corner into sight and everyone went forward to meet it. A queer look- ing contraption it was, with an erst-while white canvas top, empty cream cans tied onto ledges on either side of the coach, several passengers in the back with bundles and parcels on the floor at their feet, the most precious article, the mail bag, in front by the driver. Pulling up with a flourish, the mail man jumped out, and threw the mail bag on the ground where it was seized by several eager hands and turned up side down on the ground, while the mail man unloaded the numerous and varied bundles, the contents of which he had purchased for the work of the district from the stores in the little station town. After all had received their mail, examined their letters, front, back and finally inside, read and discussed the headlines of the two-day old newspaper, they loaded all of their packages and bundles onto their horses and departed for home to go through the routine of evening work on a dairy farm. THE llr C.tX'l'lll4LRINlfI 1 QA crimson of the western skv is re- flected on the great clouds which hover overhead. No sound is heard except the dashing of the angry 'SL 9LT93'L' waters against jagged rocks. The leaves of the sudden breathless calm which precedes the storm lills the forest. The crimson of the sky becomes century-old trees do not stir. The darker, it deepens into scarlet, then swiftly roll- ing black clouds hide the blood-red heavens. Rap- idly they advance. On the plains below, the yellowing grasses bend before the wind, yet in the forest all is still. Suddenly, the high-pitched laughter of a child is heard. Then a slender, golden-haired girl is seen dancing on the velvety gI'1lSS. VVith arms outspread, her lithe body swaying to and fro, she dances with quaint little steps, her saucy eyes and pursed lips half hidden by her bobbing curls. As she daintily twirls and leaps, she glances over her shoulder to observe her companion. lfagerly he watches her. His large dark eyes follow every motion of her swaying body. His lips quiver with a tender smile when he sees her turn her head to look at him. As she pirouettes before him, he touches his crutch beside him. For a moment his eyes were filled with sadness. The girl flings herself on the ground near him, panting. Oh, how l wish that l might dance with you but oncefl he says sadly, for in all his twelve years of life, he has never walked. The rumble of distant thunder reverberates STORM Scnxiiwr through the forest. The lightning flashes. Come, we must go, for it will storm, says when the rumbling has ceased. he No, let me dance again just for a moment, she pleads as she rises. Scarcely waiting for his consent, she begins a fantastic little dance. Circling about, between trees, behind bushes, she twists and turns her way. Closer and closer to the roaring, rushing, luring waters of the stream she goes. The boy watches, fascinated. Suddenly he cries out, but the crashing of thunder covers his warning cry Still she circles and dances, thinking of nothing but her own actions. A flash of lightning rends the sky. Startled, she slips into the raging tor- rent sweeping by. With a cry the lad is on his feet and runs towards the stream-he runs who has never walksd. He plunges into the dark water. He struggles on toward her. He grasps her andlights to reach the nearest bank. Slowly he struggles onward, and hnally she clings to a rock. Then his grasp suddenly loosens. His sigh is scarcely heard above the roaring of the mad waters. His muscles relax, and he is motionless for a moment. Then the rushing waters carry h im onward, l i fel ess. The crashing of thunder has ceased. The clouds have broken apart and rolled away. All is still except for the dripping of water from the leafy trees and the sobbing of the girl as she clings to the body of the dead boy. lt was so that they found them. 16

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TI-IE M DAY I THE BUSH lit' iX'l.'XR,ll7RIli lltttt-vx.-xx f n lllti Southern Cross had faded from ,233 the skv, the ghostly' gravness of 1' .V ' Q 'V' H . . ' ' . f1i,'Q early dawn glided into the air and the slightest suggestion of a white 'una' haze crept up in the east. The birds were awaking one by one. 'the psalmist of the dawn, the little yellow and green shrike robin was the first to salute the morn with his melodious 'ftink-tink g the pallid cuckoo was practising his chromatic scale far out of sighp in the top of a tree, a grey thrush's acrobatic whist- ling notes came from a wattle tree near byg from far away a coo-ee bird passionately called coo- oo, coo-oo to the unresponsive mateg the little house swallows joined in with their cheerful warbling songsg and every now and then the song was punctuated by a burst of raucous laugh- ter from a family of hookaburros. Thus the chorus of the birds, marvelous and beautiful, sang loudly, gayly, exultantly to greet the sun, that capricious lord of young Australia, As he rose in his glory of purple, gold and crim- son, the chorus ceased and the birds dispersed and busied themselves searching for breakfast. The day had already begun in a shabby, un-- painted little fratne house which sat perched up four feet from the ground on wooden posts. Mrs. Nlurray was already astir, kindling the fire and setting the ever present tea kettle on to boil. The boys who slept on a cot on the veranda, had been awakened by the brilliant Hood of sunlight and were ready for their cups of tea before they waded barefoot through the tall dewy grass to bring in the cows for the morning milking. By the front veranda was fourteen-year-old Nlonica, the only girl of the family. She was not a beauty by any means, but there was an in- describable charm about her attitude of shy frank- ness. Her hair was a tumbled mop of dark brown shot with golden glintg her eyes, a deep blueg her cheeks a dusky tan underlaid by a rosy glow. She was dressed in a torn and faded blue print dress and wore neither shoes nor stockings. Her attention was taken up by the beauty of a large Rangoon creeper which climbed on a trellis on one side of the front veranda. It was covered with clusters of tiny flowers which, although they were pure white now, would soon turn a pale pink under the action of the sun and later deep red. Soon lylonica had to go inside to help prepare the breakfast and was busy cutting great stacks of bread and opening a new tin of blackherry jam. The boys carrie in panting and breathless from a race from the cowyard to the house. Say, Mum, it's not fair, cried hfler- vvng he had a start of about six yards and then he crows about winning the raceln VVell,'y said Clarence calmly, 'flVlervyn's legs are about a lioot longer'n mine, so l think that evens it up. hflrs. Nlurrav, used to arguments of this kind, merely laughed and silenced the boys by putting the breakfast on the table. 'l'he early morning passed in the routine of rnilking the cows, separating the tnilk, setting the cream away in the cream shed, feeding the calves and pigs on skimmed milk and washing up the separator. 'l'he boys went away with their father to mend a fence in a far distant corner of the farm and were away until dinner time. In the meantime Mrs. Nlurray and lylonica were well occupied. Thev churnedg they baked breadg they swept and scrubbed and cleaned until the house looked like a new pin. .Xbout dinner time, as though attracted by the savory smells, a traveling man with his pack ap- peared. Sure of a welcome in almost any bush home, he sat down on the little back veranda dis- playing his wares which seetned to range all the way from a ribbon or a hairpin to a silk dress length. Greatly intrigued by his store Nlonica made him go through the entire pile. Having bought a few things, Mrs. lhilllfflly, as a matter of course, invited him to stay for dinner. After the meal was over and the traveller had departed, Moiriczt washed the dishes and prepared for the great event of the day, going for the mail. Unusually thoughtful of his sister lyler- wyn caught and saddled his sister's horse for her. She looked very sweet and fresh as she set out dressed in a pink blouse, a grey riding skirt and a wide brimmed hat trimmed with pink roses. The trip to the postotlice occupied about three- quarters of an hour, over an irregular road wind- ing through the dark mysterious scrubland, up hills, past gurgling little creeks where beautiful birds drank and bathed in the cool water. lyloni- ca enjoyed her ride through the drowsy, quiet dusk for she loved it in every phase, and always watched everything with a fresh interest, seeing new things at almost every glance. VVhen she arrived at the postoflice, which was nothing more nor less than an empty cracker tin nailed to a tree, she found several people already there awaiting the coming of the mail man. hlonica tethered her horse beneath a shady tree

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T H E RM!! CLASS WILL MECHANIC Arts High School, being in a more generous mood than usual do on this eve of the ,,T',o,, .P ' fi gi f ts 3 I' gtr C. s Ju 1 graduation of my class of 1927, think it altogether htting and proper to draw up that part of my will which duly concerns the members there- of. Therefore, in the presence of Mr. Lange, my chief adviser, I bequeath: To Miss Heal, my deepest sympathy at losing the advisership of such a wonderful class. To the teachers of this class, sympathy for the lonely state in which the class will leave them and hope that at some future time they may be blessed with similar students. To Frances Obst, Herbert Holmstine, Minnie Goldenberg, Mildred Goldish, Sternie Kissen, David Tennenbaum, Iilsie Anderson, Marjorie Buchanan, Herbert Drecksler, George Esch, Ben- zetta Barry, Hazel Baumen, Dorothy Fvenson, lda Goldstein, Helen Greenberg, Harvey Gus- tafson, Josephine Haas, Arthur Jurgenson, Elea- nor Knippenberg, Irene Kruszewski, Anna Lin- dell, Catherine Musachio, Louise Wortman, Theodore Nightingale, Alfred Onslow, Ellen Parkhurst, Basil St. Peter, Allie Thompson, El- frieda Zibell, and VVilliam Lyon, the Mourner's Bench. Since the above mentioned students have become so attached to this particular piece of fur- niture during their high school course, it is a pity that they should go on through life without it. I leave the division of time of occupation to the good judgment of the members of the group and solemnly beseech them to endeavor to re- frain from coming to blows in this matter. To Harold Anderson and Herbert Brooks, our shop facilities for sharpening skates with the hope that they will learn how to navigate on ice skates. To Virginia Bazille, Christine Bearth, Clar- ice Cochran, Iiva Frank, Ruth Harwood, Annette Kaplan, Jerome Kerlin, Joseph Koropov, Jaro- milla Kriz, Blanche Krosky, Cherry Medbery, Bernice Perkins, Phyllis Pride, Anthony Tschida, and Charles VVinter, the use of the court dur- ing morning hours. They will find it a nice, quiet place in which to meditate upon their life problems, undisturbed. These are the folks who, ever since their first day at Mechanics, have sought a most secluded and isolated seat in the assembly. It has been their deepest desire to be as far away from their friends as possible. They have never been given to unnecessary speech with their neighbors in the assembly. To Bernice Barnhart, Jacob Bisnow, limma Boratko, Lucille Brant, VVilliam Brockman, Mary Coleman, Arilla Carper, Alex Dim, lVIarcella Iiichten, Iivelyn lillis, Hildred Fahey, Raymond Gadow, Marjorie Golden, Carl Gorkin, Lillian Hampl, Lillian Harrison, Iilla Hauge, Claude Herbert, Melvin Hiner, Wilbur Holtz and Mol- ly Kanoun, the fulfillment of the innermost de- sires of their hearts. flt has never been my priv- ilege to receive the intimacy of these people to the extent of their imparting to me such secre- cies as these, but never the less I offer my heart- iest wishes for their coming truelj To Mabel Grunewald, Lydia Jabs, John Korn, Arlene Lindgren, Grace O'Neill, Lois Penshorn, Florence W'ilson, and Lillian Wolter letters rec- ommending them as private secretaries to U. S. presidents for the next 60 years, my influence being such that the legacy amounts to an appoint- ment. fThis statement may be ambiguous, but I mean of course for each to have one president in the order of his or her name-id est, Mabel will be secretary to Cal Coolidge as soon as she graduates. VVhen he goes out of office, Lydia falls heir to the job for the next president, 'et Cetera far into the night. Lillian will have a nice long vacation while poor Mabel is hard at work. It all seems so unfair, but how else can I arrange matters? To Arnold W. Peterson, Arnold S. Peterson, Joyce Petersen and Lorraine Petersen, a peace- ful future over in Sweden. QI forget myself. This is impossible for Joyce is a Norwegian. Three cheers for the Norwegiansj To Louise Rose, Anne Herman, lrene Mc- Alpine, Alphonse Nistler, William Schaller, Alex Stein, Michael Tschida, Dick Scribner, Alfred Braverman and Harriet Waldo, recom- mendation to the IVIetro-Goldwin Studios so that they may win fame as the vampiest vamps and the sheikiest sheiks Hollywood has ever known. ToChesterCurran,Bernard Diebel,Lucille Far- rell, Sam Frisby, Ruth Halstead, Charlotte Heid- eloff, Alice Knutson, John Laabs, Dorothea Ley- man, Reuben Lubofsky, William IVIcNamara, Fi- leen Marum, Alice Merrick, Isabel Mills, Joseph Meyers, Ifdwin Olsen, Robert Parker, Nicholas Roth, Iola Rahm, and Max Rutzick, the privilege of practising in my swimming tank that I hope to have at some future time, hoping that they will all be able to swim the linglish channel before they have reached the age of l02 years. flluth Halstead knows how to swim dog fashion already, just think of itll ' To Lowell Dodge, Louis Laliossiere, Nicholas lvloschogianis, ICdwin Olsen, Lloyd Stafford, Sam Stameshkin, Benjamin Straus, George Temp, Al-