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Page 18 text:
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THE MISSION Soon after the new shop was opened an irate customer appeared unceremoniously upon the scene. Accosting Aleutian uncertainly he snapped out, What's Wrong with you? Have you anything against me? Lawsuit or what ? Aleutian, temporarily surprised out of his dignity which had been acquired along with the new shop answered, I have nothing against you. What's the matter with you? The customer explained, I'm from the Auctioning Agency. Some fool detective has been shadowing me for the past week. He finally accused me of taking some painting you claim to have lost. I'm not responsible for any article after it is sold. But I did lose a painting. Incidentally, I bought it from you. I forgot it and when I came back to get it, why, it was gone. You're the only one who could have it, retorted Aleutian Adams, A. D. C. now thoroughly aroused. The puzzled auctioneer shook his head. I sent that troublesome painting to you through the mail right after you bought it, he flashed back over his shoulder as he indignantly left the shop. By this time Aleutian was overcome with a combination of joy and fear. Joy at news of the painting and fear of the thought of the mail. For in his search for the painting he had left his mail to collect in unopened reams of letters and packages. Ilpon moving into 'the new shop he had assigned the tardily unopened mail to a newly acquired bookkeeper. Fearfully, he entered the oflice of the new employee and requested to see any packages that had collected. To his amazement they were so numerous it took a closet to hold them all. Delving down he searched the closet. First one and then another package was opened but all without securing the coveted painting. Only a few wrapped papers and magazines were left. Listlessly he picked up an unobtrusive ordinary folder. Here, in a few short seconds. he solved the mystery of his long lost treasure. The auctioneer had removed the painting from its frame when he sent it through the mails. No wonder it had never been found! JEANNETTE QUAST. A Fragment Nothing but the ruins are left in this barren place, Nothing but crumbled rocks of pillars once reaching to the sky Those graceful Roman figures have gone on, Their half-burned candle buried in their night . . They dreamed their dreams, but like those inconsistent, flimsy thoughts of man, They fell to earth like last night's stars, And la in pieces at their feet. Y SHELAGH GOLDIE. U41
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Page 17 text:
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MISSION HIGH SCHOOL shop where everyone could see it. Various people offered him even higher prices than he had paid for it but he refused them all. ln his eyes the chandelier was priceless. And so his customers thought. Only the richest and proudest dared offer a price and always they were refused. This, Aleutian complacently thought, was the crowning achieve- ment of his career. One day a few weeks later the headlines of his home newspaper informed him that Unknown Artist VVins First Prize at National Exhibition. Somewhere he had seen that name, certainly. On that picture he had bought at the auction when-then sud- denly the meaning of the news dawned on him. Daily he watched the account of the activities of the young artist. Overnight, the artist achieved fame. His paintings which had hitherto been valueless now became the fad. Everywhere people sought his works. He attained instant wealth. Meanwhile, Aleutian was thrust out of the cocoon of his self-satisfaction into the depths of remorse. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself. With fool's luck he had come into possession of this painting and then to crown it all he had forgotten to bring it home. Bought and paid for, it was his. But in name only. He had the prize in fancy not fact. Anxiously he revisited the dignified old mansion. The caretaker had not seen the paintingg the local lost and found knew nothing of itg the police had not caught a thief with it in his possession. Finally he obtained the name of the auctioneer the painting had been bought from. In despair he returned to the shop. The chandelier was relegated to the background. In his anxiety to find the painting, Aleutian became blind to the beauty of his former prize. No longer did it occupy the first position in the shop. That was reserved for the painting--if he ever found it. As a last resort, he inserted advertisements in local and district newspapers. He posted bills of reward for the return of the painting-no questions asked. He announced the loss over the radio. Lastly, he hired a private detective, gave him the scant facts of the case and besieged him with probabilities of his imagination. Day after day went by and he received no news of the painting. To find it became his one object in life. The sole reason that the Antique Shop kept up its past record of business was Aleutian himself. He became absent minded. People began to think that his mental equilibrium had become upset. His very eccentricity drew curious people to the shop. Unconsciously, in his soul aim to recover the prodigal painting, he assumed a collection of unusual mannerisms. His constant advertising increased the publicity of his shop. He became a well-known and colorful figure connected with his shop. Gradually his clientele became so large that he moved into larger quarters where the antiques, genuine and manufactured, were displayed to a decided advantage over the old Antique Shop. This new shop was impressive and indifferent to ordinary standards of art. Bizarre and unusual, it compelled Where the former shop had invited. Along with the other antiques came the chandelier. Before it had seemed priceless. Now with the Hush of prosperity upon him, it seemed worthless. - E131
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Page 19 text:
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MISSION HI G H SCHOO ,, YW 'mv 5 Q 1' 1 735 lf, ,,.A A .gr AQ. , , 'J ' -. Q, The M ission CPa1m5 04 6Uiew of Our School from Our CParlz H5 I
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