West Reading High School - Vaquero Yearbook (West Reading, PA)

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ONE TOO MANY ..l- If- you had been in Poplar Crest on the evening of April twentieth, you could have seen at about eleven 0'clock, a tall, upright and well-dressed gentleman groping his way along High Street. His manner of walking was very peculiar. He would advance a few paces, halt, glance back and then continue his rapid march. He kept up this style of walk until he reached the most beautiful home on that street. He gazed at the house a moment, quickly transferred his walking stick to his arm, opened the large entrance gate and boldly ascended the flight of steps. After some delay he finally succeeded in opening the door and entered an lmmlense living room, which contained valuable fur- nishings, tasteful pictures and precious antiques. Removing his hat, he seated himself before a large fire- place, lighted a cigar and began reading a paper. Suddenly he seemed to think there came from the second floor a queer noise, but dismissed it from his mind as imagination. Again the noise sounded. He was startled. Can there be anyone in the house? he murmured. He arose and went towards the stairs, hesitated, then, throwing back his shoulders said to himself, Who is there that I should fear? Upon reaching the second fioor he stopped a moment to see if it could be determined where the noise came from. Soon it was again heard and seemed to proceed from a room at the extreme end of the hall. He tried very hard to sneak, but at every step the boards squeaked louder, he thought. He reached the room safely, threw open the door and pressed the electric button. To his amazement he found standing before the open drawer of a dresser a peculiar-looking man. He was a chubby sort of fellow with a small homely face, exceedingly small eyes and a short stubby nose, and he was wearing a dressing gown and night cap. Taking a step forward, the gentleman demanded, What are you doing in my house? Startled, the man dropped the wallet he held in his handg but after regaining his confidence he exclaimed in a rather rough voice and uncouth manner, Say, I guess I have a perfect right in me own home. HNo alibis , replied the gentleman in a sarcastic manner, and the sooner you leave this place the better for you, old chap, because I happen to be the owner. The man's peculiar little face reddened with anger. Well, bigbug, whoever you pretend to be I don't care aboutg all I want to tell you is that I own this here joint, so beat it. As you can see I am ready for bed and I don't want to be bothered any longer especially by anyone like you. How'd you'se get in, anyhow? jimmied the lock, I s'poseg it weren't none too tight, anyway. The gentleman straightened, seemed to be preparing to meet a very serious situation, and then added in his dignified way, I am very, very sorry to be inconvenien- cing you, but if you resist me any longer I shall deem it necessary to summon the police. The chubby fellow, almost overcome by rage, clenched his fists and went towards the gentleman. No, Mister Aristocrat, I don't 'spect to leave me house at sech an hour for any bum like you, and if you'se don't git out 0' here I'll have the whole troop jumpin' on you'se. The gentleman, ignoring him, walked over to the dresser, the open drawer of which contained some very fine jewelry and a number of greenbacks, and seemed to give a slight involuntary start. So , he ejaculated mockingly as he turned, you are trying to steal my wife's jewelry under the pretense of being the owner, and youlse intend to call the gang if 'I don't git . This was too much for the other fellow. His eyes glared with anger when he began to realize that this gentleman was making fun of him. If you want to know what's good for you, you'll not wait around here much longer. Them jewels belong to me wife and I was goin' to put them in a safe spot for the night. In the altercation that followed their voices grew louder than they really knew, for they attracted the attention of a nieghbor who was passing by with his two sons. Dick, isn't that a noise coming from the Moyer home?l' asked Mr. Reed. I don't know that I heard a noise, exactly , replied Dick- but look! Do you see that faint light shining throtsgh the shutters in the back room on the second floor. Yes I do see itl', said Mr. Reed. Something must be the matter, because when the Moyers left for Florida they told me they would not return until June. Perhaps Mrs. Moyer had a relapse and they had to come back. Let's investigate. The Reeds went to the front door and, to their sur- prise, found it open. They entered the living room. Perhaps, father, we'd better not light the lampg there might be some crooked work going on here , said Fred. You are right, son, I'll use the flashlight. They went up the stairs and Mr. Reed entered the room from whence the light streamed into the hall, wl.ile the boys remained in the corridor. He found two men grappling fiercely, but they halted rather quickly when they saw the newcomer. VVhat on earth are you two men doing in Mr. Moyer's home at this hour? asked Reed. The gentleman let go his strangle hold upon his op- ponent who bounced heavily to the floor, and with his former bold manner went to meet the intruder. I must inform you he answered angrily, that you are over- stepping the bounds of neighborly interest, for I am Mr. Moyer's brother. I was given orders to take charge of the place while my brother is away, and upon arriving I found this scoundrel ransacking the house. Very sorry , exclaimed Reed, but you have come in contact with the wrong party, for I am an old acquain- tance of Mr. Moyer's and he has never mentioned the fact of having a brother. Then, attracted by the ridiculous appearance of the shorter man, who was getting to his feet in dazed surprise, he added, Your friend is making himself quite comfortable, isn't he? For a second the erstwhile combatants glared at each other. Then, as if tacitly agreeing to uphold each other against the third intruder, they charged upon him. But at that moment the boys rushed into the room. The well-dressed gentleman, who had pulled a revolver from his pocket, was overpowered by Dick who managed to get the weapon with which he forced both men to surrender. One week later, cell number 15 of the State Prison was the scene of arrival for a strange pair. The one was short, extremely untidy and amazingly profane, while the other was tall, immaculate, and even condescending in the quiet dignity with which he bowed the warder off as the door clanked shut upon them. Stella Herb '24. Page 29

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VICTORY!-NOT DEFEAT There is a myth told by the Assyrians of a bird called the Phoenix which, after living a period of five hundred years, builds a nest in some tree-top for its sepulchre. The old bird sets fire to the nest, and as it slowly dies by its own act, a young bird, stronger and more beauti- ful, springs forth from the ashes. VVest Reading High may also be said to have gone thru the fire. Many times have we entered both lit- erary and athletic contests which were earnestly and hotly fought, only to emerge scorched by the flames of disappointment. A desire to bring honors to our school and to ourselves has encouraged many of us to enter such contests. Two years ago a picked chorus went to Field Day to participate in the singing contest. After being highly complimented by musicians and by the audience for our work, the judges declared we possessed good qual- ities but not sufficiently good to carry off first honors. That defeat, however bitter to us, did not destroy our spirit. This last year has been marked especially by the sudden turn of seeming victories into defeats. A number of students have written masterly essays, surely deserving recognition, but still they did not receive the prizes and had to be content with honorable mention. The Debating Team took up the call for honors and again, after heroic efforts and a real mastery of the subject, went down to defeat at the hands of Shillington, after having won, in the first round, an interesting struggle with Wlyomissing. An account of our hardships in Basketball would be a long tale of woe. For two consecutive years, with good championship prospects in the hearts of all, we were nosed out of the honors. But however numerous the defeats, however stinging and heart-rending the effects, NVest Reading High has been a game and plucky fighter. We have proved to the people that we are ardent advocates for the develop- ment of the boys and girls of to-morrow, both physi- cally and mentally. We did no deed that needs to be unnamed, XVe fought-and lost-and we are not ashamed. We have, at least, made a noble attempt and this has given us some satisfaction. 'LTO fail is not a disgrace, the disgrace lies in not trying . But now our battles are o'erg the desired victories have been defeats. However, thru all the gruelling and hectic struggles, the boys and girls of West Reading High deserve hearty congratulations upon their true sportsman-like behavior at all times and in all places. They have borne defeat in a proud and noble manner, thereby scoring a big victory in the minds of appreci- ative opponents. And now West Reading High has been playing second fiddle long enough. The time has come to march forward with all the strength that her trials have given her. So, as the Phoenix sprang anew from its ashes, we shall spring forth with a renewed vigor and spirit that shall carry us to the top. Victory shall be born again. Defeat shall die in the smoulder- ing ashes. The Editor. SPRING IS BEST Of all the seasons of the year, NVhich one seems best to you? Does not spring seem most dear, With its joys and pleasures true? Some seem to think summer the best, 'Tis warmer and brighter, they say: But isn't it true, if you stop to think, That Spring is blithe and more gay? Some choose for theirs the fall, It has beautiful colors, they say. But stop and think once more- Are there not many days that are gray? VVinter, too, is a beautiful season, With its glittering white crown of snowy But winter is cold, bare, and lonesome, With its days seeming shorter to grow. But if in the least you disagree, just think of the month of May. Does not spring then hold more than the rest, Of life's joys and new thrills each day? Sylvia Miller CEighth Gradel IF I WERE PRINCIPAL One night as I was doing my lessons, and was very cross because I couldn't go to the circus, I said to my father, If I could be the principal of the school I would tell the teachers not to assign any lessons on circus day . Then my father put down his newspaper and said, If you were the principal just what would you do? At any rate I'd not have school at all on circus day . I answered, and then I began to think out this very nice plan which I told to my father. The first thing I'd do would be to make a rule that school should not begin till ten o'clock and should leave out at eleven. That would be one hour for the morning session, having on half hour for morning exercises. One quarter hour for lessons and the remaining quarter as a study period. School would begin in the afternoon at half past' one, and leave out at three o'clock. That would be an hour and a half. The first half hour should be a study period, the next half hour lessons, and the remaing half for outdoor exercises. On all days such as circus days, holidays and so forth, we would not have any school. Qn every lfVednesday and Friday afternoon we would be excused to go to the movies. We would have school for only six months, as long as I held my office as principal. VVhen I had finished my story my father said, I don't think you'd hold your office for a week. By Elaine Boone and Wimfred Smith CSeventh Gradel ' The staff wishes to thank Alfred Small, Epaminondas Contos, Margaret Adams, Martha NVelker and Mr. Edwin B. Yeich for their art contributions. Page 28 Art Eclitor-Mildred A. Lienbach

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A MEAN TRICK CA lrue sloryj Girls let's play a trick on Mary Burns. A dozen or more girls flocked around the speaker. They had arrived at the little district school house earlier than the teacher and, while they were awaiting her arrival, they plotted and planned mischievous pranks. All right , jane Wilson answered. And let it be something that will wa ke her up and cause her to know that she is alive. She keeps her head bent over an old book all the time. She never plays with us during the noon hour. She eats her lunch, then she picks up a book and begins to study again. Last year she won the prize for having the best lessonsg a prize which I would have won if she had not studied morning, noon and night. Of course she is trying for the prize again this year, and that's not fair. I don't belive she cares anything about the prize , little Blanche Irvin exclaimed. She is studying hard that she may become a teacher. Her father is dead, and she is longing for the time when she can help her mother to feed and clothe the younger children. She ought to be praised and not blamed for what she is doing. HNonsensel answered the hrst speaker. She aims to be called the brightest girl in school. She is selhshly seeking honors. There she comes now. And the teacher will soon be here, so let us hurry with our plan. VVhat sort of a trick shall we play? The girls' began to whisper to each other, for Mary had now Joined them and of course they did not want her to guess what they were intending to do. After Mary discovered that they did not care to have her hear what they were talking about, she set her lunchbox on the door step, then wandered across the lawn to watch a bird that was building its nest in one of the trees. While Mary watched the bird the girls played their trick. They caught an ugly looking toad that was hopping about the play ground, and opening lVIary's lunch basket, placed the toad inside. Had Blanche Irvin seen what the girls were doing, she would have told Mary, and thus spared the girl a great shock, but she had joined Mary under the tree and saw noth- ing. A few minutes later the teacher arrived. They all went into the school-house now, and the lessons for the day were begun. The day was hot and poor Mary was feeling tired and warm. Her baby sister was ill and she had been up all night with it in order that her hard working mother might get a much-needed rest. She studied hard and had her lessons perfect as usual, but her head ached, and there were times when it seemed to her that the schoolhouse was spinning around. Then came the noon hour, but to Mary it brought no eager anticipation. There were no dainties in her lunch basket--nothing but rye bread scantily spread with butter. As she opened the basket wearily, vaguely wondering why her hand trembled so, out jumped the toad. The girls who had played the mean trick were all standing near Mary's desk anxious for the fun they expected to see. They shouted with laughter as the toad leaped out and sat on the desk blinking its eyes, but their merriment lasted only a moment, at the sight of the ugly toad poor Mary's over-wrought nerves gave way and she fell to the Hoor in a dead faint. Confusion now reigned. The teacher scolded, and the girls heartily ashamed of what they had done, began to cry. Mary, after passing from one fainting fit into Page 30 another, was finally carried home raving in wild delir- ium. It was Jane VVilson who picked up lVIary's lunch basket after the poor girl had been carried home and her conscience troubled her as she noticed the scant unap- petizing lunch which their mean and wicked joke had made unfit to eat. It was she who had put the ugly toad into the basket, and it was she who carried fruits and dainties to the poor girl during the long anxious days that followed, for Mary became very ill, and at one time her life was dispaired of. She had studied too hard, and overburdened with home cares, as she was, her nerves had needed but a slight shock to bring on complete prostration. But she finally recovered and on the day when she went back to school there was great rejoicing. There were no more mean tricks played in that school. The girls had learned their lesson, and when Mary won the prize, jane Wilson was the first one to congratulate her. Emily Stitzel '25, A BOOK REVIEW I have read many books that have made me thought- ful, I have read others which have made me sorrowful, I have read books that have made me feel kindly toward the afiliicted, others which have made me wrathful, and still others which have shown me different sides of history. But never have I read a book which has put me into such thoughtful and varying moods as the one written by Charles Reade entitled The Cloister and the Hearth. It is hard to tell what makes the book so striking. It is not sentence construction that impresses one, al- though that is good, but the beautiful and striking thoughts presented by the author in a pleasing setting of the fifteenth century. The story runs along with a rapid pace, covering the space of half a century. Even though it covers so large a period, the story is not hurried, but deals leisurely with all phases of life, show- ing up the pomp and splendor of Rome, the selfish lives of the rich, the downfalls and treacherous steps which are little different from those of today. The author has taken time to acquaint us with the prevailing modes of travel of that day, to give us pictures of villages, and to paint for our imagination pictures of inns which con- sisted of one or two rooms. I-le has taken us on foot from Holland to Rome. Even though these pictures are not reproduced by the artist's pen, they are so vivid in words that every reader has the ability to see them. He has taken us through the schools, he has told us how writing was taught by the monks and how high prices were paid for these marks upon paper which we now take for granted as an accomplishment necessary for all, The author of The Cloister and the Hearth has not gone so far back in history that the plot is beyond the conception of any man or woman, neither has he shown only one side of lifeg but he has shown the beautiful side, as beautiful as a delightful composition of music, and he has depicted the less beautiful side without making it vulgar. The keynote of this story, I think, is that on this earth, there will always be some obstacle or other to your perfect happiness. But he leaves us with a sweeter thought- In every age the Master of life and death, who is kinder as well as wiser than we are, has transplanted to heaven, young, Earth's sweetest f-lowers . Dorothy Hvllenbach '25