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Page 29 text:
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Prophecy on the Prophets One spring evening as I was strolling around Chicago, I decided to go into the library where I could spend my evening reading. After reading for half an hour I decided to wander around this little one room library and see what I could find of interest. While I was gazing over the shelves my eye was attracted by a small black book in among some dictionaries and encyclopedias. This book drew rry attention because it was the only one that I had seen that was covered with dust and dirt. Taking the book from the shelf and brushing the dust from its cover I was able to make out the title. This is what I read: How To Get Rich On Big Words, by Allan Creed, Professor of Wordology at the Sapp College, Katzenjamer, Hindu. Immediately I became interested because Allan was an old class mate of mine at dear old Tech High. Before opening the bool: I demanded of the librarian the reason why this book was so dusty. Well, she said, that reference of Creed's is so scholarly that no one ever reads it. Feeling proud to think it was so scholarly I opened the book to see if I could appreciate it. It started something like this: While attending Technical High School in Springfield, Massachusetts, I had a presentiment that I knew more about words than any other student in the school. I thought it was my duty to extend my knowledge to the world. After taking a complete course at the Sapp College for dumb-bells I have become a real authority on this subject. Let us take, for instance, the word bull. Bull, according to my study is not the male of any bovine mammal but that man who stands in the middle of the street and waves his hands like a crazy man and protests when anyone passes him going over two tenths of a mile per hour. The entire book contained such interesting matter as I have just quoted. While I was reading, who should tap me on the shoulder but Don Tufts. After a moment of greetings he invited me over to his home. After we Mid spent part of the evening talking over school days we decided to listen in. Just as we started to tune the set we heard a sweet voice say, This is station B. V. D. of the Street Cleaners' Association, Squeel- burg, Germany. We have the pleasure of having, this evening, an address by one who knows what he is talking about. It gives me great pleasure to introduce to the radio fans of the world, Mr. Kenneth F. Carlon, the noted scientist, who has invented a device that will remove the odor from an onion electrically without changing the flavor, Mr. Carlon. Friends of this great fuse blowing world, it gives me great pleasure to address you this beautiful sunlight evening. I have chosen for my subject: 'Fuses, and how they blow when you haven't a nickle to buy another! You know, dear friends, I used to have the same trouble you poor boobs do of blowing fuses. I used to blow two or three each evening when I really needed the money to pay my class dues. But now, dear gaucks, I have invented a fuse that will never blow under any conditions. This fuse is the result of twenty years of hard toil trying to sell Heinz's fifty-seven varieties. i Don and I listened with the greatest of interest until he bade us good- night. We both agreed that Kenny is a credit to the 192315 class of Tech. l decided that I had better get back home before breakfast so I bade Don good-night and I left, declaring I had had the most enjoyable evening since the class night. exercises twenty years ago. DONALD S. TUFTS, DONALD I. BRONSON. Prophets on the Prophets THE TECH TIGER my
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Page 28 text:
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CLASS PROPHECY Con't. We had seen enough of New York, and decided to see what was going on in San Francisco. On our way to Frisco, we passed over Washington, where we saw Clarence Castle, the President of the United States, in con- ference with Madge Clark, first woman Secretary of War. They were discussing a new hand grenade which spreads perfume on the enemy in dense clouds. The inventors of this valuable implement of modern war- fare were Messrs. Woodhead and MacDonald. Upon peering into the State, War, and Navy building, we saw a familiar figure. We did not recognize him at first because of a well trimmed beard a la Hughes. Closer examination showed that it was Donald Tufts, Secretary of State. He was in conference with two foreign diplomats, the Prince of the Fugi Islands, and her Royal Highness, the Queen of Chu-Chu, where much gum is pro- duced. In Congress, we saw Vice-President Casey Johnson presiding over the Senate with his usual smile and the gavel inherited from the Forum at Tech. In the library across the street, we saw Helen Richards, reading her latest book entitled, When First We Met! By this time we had reached Frisco. The first sight that met our eyes was a huge liner coming into port. -Hovering over the gang-plank we saw Robert Heckler, the famous Egyptologist, returning from a long trip abroad. Gliding along the ocean's edge, we came to a beach resort. It seems that Thelma Putnam was running a fashionable hotel there. Dor- othy Terrill was managing an exclusive tea-room in connection with it. On the beach was Jerry Moore, the human Hy and dare-devil, with his trainer, James Gorey. Close by was Eddie Rounds, the heavily tanned life guard chatting with Marie Johnson, the famous artist. In the lobby of the hotel stood Farmer Barker, the veteran stock-broker, calmly smoking one of Biggart's El Rope cigars. Eyeing him with evident admiration was Timothy Murphy, a bell-boy. We found the next Techites at Sacramento. Passing over the City High School, we saw Dorothy Harvey, Spanish school teacher, in confer- ence with Dayton Brown, the principal. From there to Catalina Island was but a short trip for us. At Catalina we saw a new Trans Pacific Cable being laid. The cable was composed of nothing but Bruno's Snappy Spaghetti. By this time we decided that we had better get back to Springfield in time' to receive our diplomas. We pressed the accelerator, and soon we were rolling back the curtains of time. As soon as we arrived at 1924, we assumed a more decent speed and started to rush back to Springfield. We were above Tech when the accident happened. We were going along smoothly when something loomed up ahead. We tried to swerve aside, but the lever stuck. With a crash we struck the object which was none other than the Tech ,flag-pole. We were precipitated through space at a tre- mendous rate of speed. The ground rushed up to meet us with inconceiv- able rapidity. Crash! Then blissful oblivion. After a long blankness we were aroused to our senses by someone splashing water on us. We opened our eyes and beheld Bob Towne scooping a handful of muddy water out of a puddle, presumably with the purpose of bathing our fore- heads with it. His face was white and strained, his lips twitched nervously. Where are we ? we moaned. It's too bad, fellows, he said, but my apparatus failed to function and you jumped out of the third story window. I have it in working order now, though. Let's go up and try it again. And then we fell on him. KENNETH CARLON ALLAN CREED Class Prophets f262 THE TECH TIGER
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