Northeast High School - Nor Easter Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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had able 5 he iool. was hool osen oem, the his e he best ption rrect im- E his f the owed uring ed at iginal abate, nr to e had nd he ss his :lared mefore happy satis- e and iother ed -do- a suc- id or- nd the looked for his ighted didn't v upon ol into ts that feather lt. He intable ke this ed him OP' QJSIQI? 15 towards the place he called home, he remembered that his 'paper needed more jokes and wondered if the local editor could get more tomorrow. He remembered his father and hoped he wasn't home. ready to mistreat his mother when she came home from work to that ancient-looking tenement in which they existed, it was so old that no one could remember when it was built, and it had been condemned last year by an official who examined it carefully, looked serious, and shook his head gravely. As a result, the empty upper rooms had never been re-rented. And he hoped they never would beg at least, not while he lived there. . The street car came to his stop. I-Ie got off, turned up the collar of his overcoat, and remarked to a passing acquaintance, These mists from the 'Big Muddy' are almost as bad as a London fog. He half ran the short distance to his home where he discovered two large, heavy moving vans in front of the tenement and learned that two fam- ilies were moving in. He watched the movers raise- a half-wrecked piano, it was hoisted to the top story, accom- panied by a creaking noise which did not seem to come from the pulleys. Then climbing up the stairway, he en- tered the- place he called home and was surprised to find his mother there so early. What's the matter, Mother? Chl I just had one of my sick spells an' had to come homefl Can I do anything for you? No, I'm all right now. I want you to run down to the store, though, an' get a loaf of breadf' What's that pounding from above? he asked from the doorway. That's our new neighbor cuttin' a hole for that window which should have been built there. He'd better be careful. The mortar in that wall is old and has crumbled for years, john remarked as he closed the door and stumbled gropingly into the hallway. I He thoughtfully descended the tene- ment stairways, as if he would never climb them again. But he shook off his foolish thoughts and proceeded to the corner grocery. As he bought the bread, he saw a man shuffle unsteadily past the store window. . That's Father, he sighed and hur- ried out to help him home. .As they approached the tenement, his father demanded of him, Is the old woman home yet? Yes, he answered him as he helped him up the front walk steps. The loaf of bread slipped from under his arm and he stopped to pick it up, while his father shuffled on. An in- describable sensation, perhaps it was only the clutches of the clinging cold, seized him and shook him into a vague terror. The large, heavy moving vans had been emptied. One of them moved ponderously and jounced and jolted to- wards the unusually high curbing and the other followed closely. The front wheels of the truck plunged over the curbing with a jarring joltg a small rattling noise was heard.. And ,it seemed as if a pedestal of the East porch, above which the light of johnis home shone, slipped from its founda- tion. The back wheels of the first and the front wheels of the second truck thudded upon the street pavement sim- ultaneously, the rattling increased to a roar. john straightened up suddenly and saw his father knocked down by fall- ing bricksg the evil half of his soul was delighted to see that part of the scene. And then to his horror he saw the weakened East wall sway and fall with that rattling roar. Then the remain- ing part of the wall, and the East porch also, bent inward and the entire East half of the tenement collapsed with a crash like an avalanche. john dutifully rushed to his father. Alas, he could not reach his mother, she was buried forever by that ava- lanche of bricks and mortar. He helped his father to rise. And that degraded man swayed, steadied

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14 or' easter has hurt me so much that I can stand almost any cruel cut nowf, I wonder where he is now. Darn those bootleggers! If we could get rid of such beasts, I could fix a furnace for you instead of this rusty old stove, and you and I wouldn't have to live in this rickety, draughty old tenement, we could live in a duplex apartment, perhaps. 1 Sam would have to give up whiskey before' we could do that, an' he wouldn't do that. I'm afraid thereis no hope for himg he's gone too far. If Sam's employer didn't dock his wages an' give me the money. I couldn't pay the rent. Sam has enough sense an' manhood left to let Mr. Philant do that. He hasn't much manhood left when he'll get drunk on 'corn whiskey' and will beat his wife and son. We ain't hungry, though. I thank God for my kind mistress. I just love to keep house for her. She pays me good-too good-and gives me two meals an' a lunch every day. She- an' her husband have helped me endure this trouble for five years. That's the only place you really get anything to eat. If Sam would only buy our food an' clothes, we could live in my em- ployer's new duplex an' I could work as its janitress an' pay for the rent of the basement rooms. But we're doin' the best we canf' But I think it's very selfish for me to go to high school when you need my help as much as you do. Later on you can help me much more if you study hard now. So you mustn't think of quittin' school an' goin' to work. I'm glad you think that way, Mother, it makes me feel better. I,m off to school, good by. So a strong, clean, encouraged Iohn strode briskly towards the car line and boarded a street car that would take him directly to school. ' He loved his high school work as much as he detested and hated his father. He was a senior and had enough education to make him capable of holding a good position while he studied journalismpin a night school. He hoped that the experience he was gaining as editor-in-chief of his school paper would help him with his chosen work. . Last night he had written a poem, easily and ingeniously. It was the best he had ever written, for his mother had interrupted him while he was writingfeverishly -on the best part of his work, and her interruption had caused him to review it, correct some mistakes, and improve it im- measurably. The reflections of his calmer mind had matured some of the hasty expressions that had flowed from ,his animated pen. His pen was always active. During the day he conceived and expressed at least one deep thought or original joke. Today he was going to debate, but it wasn't necessary for him to write out what he would say, he had mentally organized his material and he would easily find words to express his argument when the time came. And he did! His associates declared it to be the best debate given before their literary society that year. He had good reasons to be happy that day, for he had written a satis- factory poem the night before and had talked intimately with his mother and thus partly oiled their troubled -do- mestic sea. And he had argued a suc- cessful debate, had selected and or- ganized material for his paper, and the prospects of the next issue looked bright. But he felt depressed, for his best friend-girl friend-had slighted him on that day of daysg and he didn't know why! This feeling of depression grew upon him as he stepped from the school into the cold of the damp, gray mists that had displaced the pleasant weather which the forenoon had brought. He wondered, for some unaccountable reason, if his life would be like this particular day. As a street car rapidly carried him tow rel mc edi rer wa mc wo in the wa las it c his em re- wo the 'I got ove acq 'Bi Loi I hor hea ten ilie: mo' was pan not The terf suri earl KU 1 2 cc' spel CC' CCI to r get H1 abo' KC' El lln havr CCI in t for ' the- the

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Nor' easter? himself, and stood for a moment. looking doubtfully at the wreck, and then realized what had happened. He turned towards his son, placed his hand roughly on the boy's shoulder, and growled, Cut out th' bawlin'. Yuh make me sick,', and shook him vi- olently. Then he shuffled back up the street to his favorite soft drink sa- loonf, 1 Iohn's body was still shaking, not from his father's rough treatment, but with suppressed sobs. Presently he shrugged his shoulders and began to pull the wreckage apart, and to show other volunteers where some one of the tenants might be buried-alive or dead. But he knew that his mother was dead-a small, but calm and quiet voice seemed to arise from the secret, unsounded depths of his soul to tell him that he would have to work on without her. As We Consider fEXplanationj Mr. Phillips' English Literature classes have just completed a most interesting study of Chaucer's Can- terbury Tales, and our coach, as we frequently call him, thought it would be a grand finale to have each student write a personal letter to Chaucer giv- ing his opinion of that elegant writer. One student in the fourth hour class was bravesenough to try, and I am sure you will later agree that she suc- ceeded, in writing a letter to Chaucer in his own blue-China English as our coach describes it, which all Chaucerian, students declare to be most difficult to interpret. To give you the benefit of this un- usual letter, we have been given per- mission to print it, and hope that you readers will enjoy it just as much as those who have heard it read aloud. EDITOR. Kansas City, Mo., Ian. 19, 1922. Derre Chaucer, It maist sem straunge to yow that, from far of America a lettre- you shoide have. Yet, in reding your tales and scriptures, I how beene so esed that I wolde beg yow to leet me telle of me delyt and pleasaunce and per- chance a question ask yow. O of our greet and couthe critics seyen of yow that yow weren that beest remenaunt of Norman yeast upon the hoombake Saxon lof, an me Chaucer Today thynketh it accordaunt. Yow tried to souphen the harsh souns and hardy- nesse to maken English swete on the tonge, and wel did yow do by giving unto it a lustynesse of French and the Italian. Me thynketh it noght acord- aunt for to pynche at your uncoth- nesse and tediousness whan yow tried to spare it. An as for vileonyes, the Canterbury Tales sem not ruggy an tedious, with the ese and fredom an easy flow, hum or, and penaunce, for the discriptions depeynted with the clennesse of Hogurth wich clennesse on canvas. 4 Sundry critics do also say a gilte opportunity was los.'It maist be rightes, but to tak the wordes of the greet American, with which yow have and wher yow wer, the beest yow dooinf' Nouth jolif ol' Dan, me desirygne to ask som questions. Whan to Italy yow romed and worshiped their wityng and passant -beautee, on your viage did you sette at soper with Boccaccio at his contree hom? It wolde beene so lusty to ete with disport with lifly noble Boccaccio. I can how yow speken of your work and how yow of- fered comments in a campaignable wey, and enned eshoon in pley. In the Canterbury Tales wich from the nyne an twenty in the compani- gnye was yow? Everrechon thynken the worthy knight, but me thynketh it the host. They do not trowe it is the trouble, for yow ne describe the host, bu1 hof thi wo bee I T E Glt fou we: ber knc yea Glu of the Eve hisi any wa: doc strz Rid sha the con ple. gall a ti of four chil bad dist was shi? to 1 It of 1 Joh hou: Arn' darl- hon: Yeti tles, ding one