Richmond Hill High School - Archway / Dome Yearbook (Richmond Hill, NY)

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THE DORIE Page Nine at seeing the story-teller, into whose arms he Hnally jumped. Yes, it was fPete,' come for his master,s friend, but this time Jim --o was with him, as was proved when his mas- ter stepped smiling into the room. E H. Smalley, ,23. A Tale of Two Towns fOr, What You Willj NEERBEER NICK, most famous of detect- ives, stood on the corner of the Bowery and 33d Street disguised as a lamp-post. Ever alert and watchful, he soon perceived a pretty young woman languidly strolling towards him. As she passed our sleuth she dropped a small piece of paper, which action did not escape Neerbeeris eagle glance. Ut- tering a cry like that of a lamp-post to avoid suspicion, he stepped from his disguise and stealthily picked up the paper. A faint cheesy odor permeated the atmosphere. A startled exclamation burst from the lips of the detective, for on the paper was written: Ullfffayonnaise, numero 57, Rue de From- mage, Paris I The plot sickens. A dignified gentleman ambulated with decision towards a stately maison particu- Iiifre on the Rue de Frommage, Paris. As he approached, a querulous female voice cried out, f'Qui Stes-vous? Stung and frightened by these cruel words, our hero Cfor such he wasj drew back, confused. What, thought he- Wl1at would lVIonsoor Finnegan say in my place? Ah, yes! Vouloir zioulruzt fvouler -je zfeux that's it-je veux- Oh, hang it, he cried in English, l want to see lVIayonnaisef' lVlayonnaise,H said the voice as the door slammed shut, is dressingli' g'True,,' said the intrepid detective in a Gastonian manner, Hlldayonnaise is dress- ing. I never thought of that before. It was midnight Qas it often isj in the Quartier Latin. Bursts of frenzied music from a little cafe of questionable reputation smote the ear. A gang of boisterous Apaches were for should it be wax, Miss Beard?l dancing and singing. Suddenly a shot rang outg twenty redskins bit the dust. No, no! I have my scenes mixed. All this was in the heart of Paris-don't ask me which ventri- cle. It wasn't a shot: someone just pulled the cork out of a bottle of absinthe. Nlayonnaise was dancing with a ferocious looking Apache CNeerbeer Nick in dis- guisej. mn - - o p lx i . 3 .1 -- ' ,... Q1 Q . '1 p 0 f X I .1 A i EMIIWIH!!W 'Iimi.:, Q i '..,QTilflfQl2lVg!mI'f?YYi -Hi

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Page Eight T I-I E D O M E back. Seems as though that night's bein' lived over again this night, an' I thought I could tell the story better. There was a pause, and the story-teller smoked thoughtfully for a few seconds. The dozen men that had started out after Jim left all staggered back, one by one, because of the storm, but not one of them mentioned seein' Jim. Probably, I thought, he's whalin' the tar out of his dogs, an' still in a huff. He told me afterwards that that was exactly what he was doin', whalin' the life out of his dogs to put distance between me an' him, so's he wouldn't weaken an' come back an' get me. After he left town, he said, he beat his way out the Jig-saw Trail. The travelin' wasn't so bad, 'cause the snow hadn't drifted into the trail much, but after he'd passed the Clump he was out in the open without any protection against the storm, where he'd had brush an' trees be- fore. He kept goin' fast until he judged he was nearin' Little Creek. He slowed up there, to test the ice before crossin'. It was hard, so he kept on at his old pace, Hgurin' that the ice on Big Creek would be the same. Jim said afterwards that he should have known better an' looked out for air- holes, but he didn't. He was about half way across Big Creek when there was a crunchin', grindin' noise an' frantic yelps from the dogs, who had safely crossed the weak spot-now a black yawnin' hole-but were bein' pulled back into it by the sinkin' sled. Jim dove for the traces an' cut 'em in time to save the dogs, but he himself started to slide into the black, gurglin', rushin' water. 'Pete,' bein' the lead dog, was the first safely out, an' when he saw Jim's danger gave a short sharp yelp. Jim told me that when that dog barked it popped right into his mind to grab the last dog an' hold on. The frantic scramblin' of the dogs to save themselves saved Jim from d1'OXVI1lI1', but then he was still in danger, 'cause he was soaked from the hips down, an' you know what that means this time of year. VVell, Jim was out. The first thing he did was to cut 'Pete' loose from his harness give him a sharp pat on the back, an' 'Pete' was off into the storm like a streak of light- nin', knowin' just what his master expected of him. After gettin' 'Pete' started Jim kept movin', but he couldn't leave the place because 'Pete' would bring help back there. He stayed there jumpin' up an' down, doin' a buck an.' wing an' all the crazy steps he could remember. Still the ice formed on his boots an' trousers, an' Jim knew he was Hghtin' a losin' game. But he kept on until he dropped from sheer exhaustion. I was sittin' here talkin' when there comes a scratchin' an' a tearin' at the door. 'Uncle' John-he was storekeeper then- opened it, an' in bounded 'Pete,' exhausted an' all but dead. The dog was game, though. When I went to him, knowin' full well that somethin' had happened to Jim, he wanted to start right back. A few min- utes later we did start back, 'Pete' on a leash with Uncle John an' me with the store sled. 'Pete' led us right to where Jim lay buried in the snow that had tried to snuff him out but in a measure saved him by keepin' out the worst of the cold. We piled Jim onto our sled, beat our way back to town, an' it took us half the next day to wake him upg but he finally came to, an' in a week was all right. The men sat staring before them, think- ing of 'Pete' and his master. Suddenly came a loud scratching and tearing at the door. Uncle John's son opened it, and in bounded a great snow-covered dog, eyes snapping, paws hardly touching the Hoor for the joy J

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PageTen THE DOME Suddenly a tall, heavy ,set man with a waxed mustache entered. CThis, dear read- er, is the villain.j All stopped to stare at the burly intruder. ''Chavirorotantachachamipatarvetrobrula- patachatln he muttered brusquely, drawing a pistol and a watch. Receiving no answer, he fired 41 Qby ac- tual countj bullets thru lVIayonnaise's indi- gestion. Then, with a raucous laugh, the great brute Hung himself in a chair, shout- ing, Icey, garsung. Bay rum at la corbeille lieurieln Then the great detective got on the job. He adjusted his rnonocle Cmodern sleuths use them instead of the obsolete magnifying glassj, mounted the nearest chandelier, and began to examine the bulb for hngerprints. At last he found some. Aha!', he ex- claimed, rubbing them off, this may shed some light on the subject! Then he turned to the corpse. Carram- ba! he announced to the astonished spec- tators. She has been murdered. This may mean war between South America and Ice- landf' So saying, he entered it in his Eng- lish note-book as voluntary work. Neerbeer then obtained a promise from the murderer to send his name and address at his earliest convenience. Remember, said he, if you don't, I'll tell your mamma! With this terrible threat, which caused the villain to simper and whine, the valiant detective placed all the men with glass eyes or wooden legs under arrest, and ran swiftly away at the rate of sixty minutes per hour. In the street he stopped suddenly and srnote his forehead. Donnerblitzen!,' he shouted in Portuguese. I should have asked that gentleman why he took out his watch with his pistol! Finale. Comte Henri Jean Prosper Francois de Chiffoniere, murderer of Mayonnaise, sat reading his favorite newspaper, La MHfilZ66 Suiwmte, in his little room in a Paris pen- sion. Suddenly the door opened and Neer- beer, the fearless detective, entered. I arrest you, he exclaimed, for breach of promise. Why did you not send me your name and address? A thousand pardonslu snickered the Count. I was just writing a letter to you. See, here it is. And he handed the detect- ive a million ruble banknote. I see, said Neerbeer, bowing his way out. Pardon my error. I hope you will not resent my intrusion. If you ever Hy over my house, drop in, I beg you. Adieuf' Just a moment, said the Count, level- ing a pistol at our hero's head. f'Take off your disguise. Remonstrating, the detective obeyed, and wilt? Cas Ecke would sayb there stood, not Neerbeer, but lVIayonnaise herself. Drawing herself up proudly, she said, Henri, you shoot me all you want, but you can never force me to eat dill pickles with oyster patties. I hate you! CRepeat three times! I love the detectif from Ameriqueln Neerbeer, said the Count, removing a wig and false beard, Neerbeer, c'est moi. And, true enough, it was the intrepid sleuth himself! And what of the Count? Don't ask me. To this day it has not been found out what really became of him. Was it himself he shot? Or did he never was? We can only speculate. Circulation Every boy and girl Hearken to this call- Buy the DOIXIE! What is the DOME- A roof shaped like a ball? No, indeedg it is a book, Having jokes in every nook. Anna .D1lZC71lC7'LSk'i. The Clasxbaole If you're feeling mighty blue, Don't know what's wrong with you, The bets are ten to two Itls the Classbook! If your food's not acting right, And you don't sleep well at night, That's a sign you're in the fight Witli the Classbook. If you feel you'd like to die, But don't know the reason why, You will find out bye and bye 'Twas the Classbook. But do brace up, old dears, Try and dry your mournful tears, And disperse your groundless fears 'Bout the Classbook. Some bright thought will come at last And your worries will be past, And the work will go loo last In the Classbook. Then at last, when all is done, And your battle fought and won, You may smile-till is begun Another Classbook. Jeannette Thomas.