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

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Fl-'FHllVI.AH.S.iPC'FE JAQUE AND JILL By Lorraine Goff All heroines, by unwritten law, must be small, dumb, and blondg so, just to be original we'll make Jill Illingsworth tall, dark, and one who looks wise even if she isn't, as she gazed in rapture at the Taj Mahal in Agra, India. The hour was twelve 'cause twelve comes after eleven-so the freshmen tell usg and the guards were closing the gates of the gar- den surrounding the Taj. jill wriggled delightedly as she heard the heavy, pon- derous gates clang which meant that she was shut in the garden with the Taj Mahal, a tomb of a long dead empress, -disconcerting that! But she really wasn't alone. She just thought she was. You see, gentle reader, our heroine must have a hero and vice versa, so, we'll stick a nice great big blond hero in the other side of the gar- den and call him jaque Thompson Cisn't that a nice way to spell Jack? J Reread for practice, now go on with the story. jill-lovely girl-threw back her head, caught it again and tripped lightly out into the silvery moonlight. Suddenly she felt herself lifted up by two C23 strong, sinewy hands-lovely feeling! Really, said Blond Jaque, if you persist in hopping into alabaster lily pools, you must expect to have drastic measures used upon you! In his arms Jill couldn't have escaped had she tried. So she didn't try. Gazing up she found herself looking into a pair Put your hands where they belong and they don't belong to me, smiled Jill. Thanks for saving me, Handsome, I'll reward you some day. You're welcome, Beautiful, but don't gog you can't anyway 'cause we're lock- ed up and I crave conversation. Thus persuaded Jill stayed. You're as exquisite as the seven deadly sins, murmured Jaque looking down at herg and- Just a minute 'til I call the orchestra. We should have music with this, laugh- ed Jill, when suddenly the soft strains of a reed instrument floated on the per- fume-scented air. Enchanted, Jaque and Jill heard the tune gradually quicken to a wierd haunt- ing melody instilling into the pair the desire to dance. As if by instinct his arm encircled her waist and they began to dance like ones possessed. Faster grew the melody and faster they whirled in and out of the lacey shadows. Suddenly the music stopped as it be- gan. That wonderful dance also stopped and Jaque Finding his lips dangerously near those of his exquisite companion's swiftly bent his strong handsome head and-. Fooled ya! jaque woke up to the haunting melody of his merry Baby Ben and profanely expressed his opinions. Moral: Always retire early if you of-you guessed it-eyes. Of course, like most eyes they were under his eye- brows, but, oh, how different! would have time to complete your dreams. The Brook By Evelyn M. Winslade I ramble oft in pastures green Down hill and dale and valley ways, Sometimes in fragrant woods I'm seen A-bubbling ,neath the sun's bright rays. The children love my rippling song And laugh and shout and play with glee. And often they will linger long Until the night has hidden me. All thro' the dark my course I run While all the world lies still in sleep. Sometimes my sound may startle one As I roll on o'er mountains steep. I travel fast from dark to dawn For always there's the urge in me To follow, ever follow on And rush on toward my goal,-the sea. Page Fourteen

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