Westwood High School - Chipmunk Yearbook (Westwood, CA)

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THE CHIPMUNK [ ] SUCH IS LIFE! Dorothy Mansfield was slowly walking to school, in a deep study. “Wait a moment. You’re always thinking so hard that you can’t even notice your friends. Have you heard the news? A new boy is going to enter school next week.” This rapid flow of speech came from a slender, attractive looking girl, with pretty brown eyes, brown hair curled elaborately by means of electric curlers, and a complexion which showed an over-indulgence of sweets. She fondly considered herself very popular in school, especially with the boys. “Just think of having somebody new to dance with at the high school dances. Oh, won’t I make him sit up and take notice!” So continued the newcomer, whose name was Ida Brooks. “You seem to be pretty sure of yourself,” answered Dorothy. “YV hat if some of the other girls decide to take a hand in the game and capture him for them- selves?” “Oh, well, if I really want him, no other girl can get him,” was the confident answer. “By the way, Ida, what is his name?” asked Dorothy “Bob Hurst.” The conversations between Ida and the rest of the girls were along very sim- ilar lines, Ida always trying to give the impression of her great popularity. The next day when Ida arrived at school, she rushed up to a group of girls and exclaimed, “Oh, girls, Mrs. Hurst, his mother, arrived in town yesterday. She is an old friend of mother’s, and last night mother went to call on her and I went too, in the hope of seeing him. He has not come yet, but I saw his pic- ture, and Oh, he is the handsomest boy you ever saw. He is rather tall, with dark eyes, dark wavy hair, and Oh, the most delicious smile, showing such even, strong, white teeth. Everyone will just adore him.” Ida paused here for the very good reason that she had to gasp for breath. “How do you know that the picture was of him?” asked Dorothy Mansfield. “Because Mrs. Hurst told me that it was her son,” was the confident answer. “And I suppose you sat up all night looking through story books and novels for witty sayings to fill him with,” replied Dorothy.

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[32] T II E (' II I I M V N K During my careful study of the ore I easily recognized it as the same as that I had just tested. “Oh, I say,” I said, turning to my brother, “Better water these gentlemen’s horses!” With this I went into the assay office and commenced to run the test. It, needless to say it, was a fizzle. After about thirty minutes I reported that there was “nothing doing.” “Very sorry to bother you, you know,” said the dudish imitation of a man. “Oh, that’s all right!” I shouted as they wfent out the door. As I turned I noticed that our young friend was slipping a scale weight in his pocket as he w'ent out. He must have taken it for gold. I paid no attention to it but turning to him I said, “Allow me to show you some red ore.” As I reached for the ore, w'hich was on the table on which the dude sat, I accidentally (?) tipped over a small bottle of parting acid. About nine-tenths of it poured on the part where he w-as sitting. It took about thirty seconds for our young friend to grow real angry and say things not fit to print here. After neutralizing the acid with sodium bicarbonate, I bade my guests good night. Going to the door I saw the dude start to make a flying mount. As he caught one foot in a stirrup, the strap broke. At the same instant the cinch must have slipped, for he and the saddle hit the ground pretty hard at the same time. He arose dizzily and produced a gun and demonstrated how dangerous it is to let children handle firearms. He hit saddle, trees, rocks and bushes, but failed to hit the horse, on w'hom he laid all the blame for his misfortune. My brother and I assisted him to catch his horse and we mended his cinch. He remarked as he was leaving how' evenly the cinch had broken, but my brother and I looked so innocent and expressed our deepest regrets, and he said no more. Strange, wasn’t it, how that bottle of acid tipped over and how that cinch broke? About four months later we received a check for $25.00 “for services ren- dered,” as the note said. We did not recognize the sender’s name, but it was drawn on the account of Michael London, our “batty” old friend. Does it pay to help out an old guy whom you think is batty? If you don’t think so, just ask my brother and me. We know. -K. W, ’23.

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TIIE CHIPMUNK [341 Ida’s face turned a deep red which no amount of powder could hide. She knew that the girls were beginning to realize that the witty sayings she used were only borrowed. As it was time for classes to begin, nothing more was said about the matter, but for the rest of the week Ida talked incessantly of the new boy. On Monday morning of the following week, the pupils of the high school arrived much ahead of time because they wished to make the acquanitance of the new boy before the first class passed. While they were all waiting expectantly, Ida appeared, and giving everybody a smile and a nod, with the expression of “I know why he isn’t here” written on her face, walked past them and into the assembly room. She finally satisfied their curiosity by saying that he would be at school Wednesday morning, and not before. On Tuesday, Ida couldn’t suppress her excitement. “Oh, girls! I’ve got the cutest little dress to wear tomorrow, and I’m going to fix my hair in that perfectly fascinating new way. He is coming on the four o’clock train today and the family are going to have him and his folks to dinner tonight. Oh, I’m so excited!” and in this state of excitement she remained for the rest of the day. The next morning everybody appeared on the scenes early; that is, all except the two upon whom the excitement centered. About five minutes before time for school to commence a strange by ap- peared. Was this the hero? It couldn’t be! This short, skinny, freckle-face, big-mouthed, staring-eved, hooked-nose, red-headed boy?? “Looka here, boy, what’s your name?” asked a junior boy. “Bob Hurtht,’ lisped the boy. “Will you pleathe show me to the prin- cipal’s offithe? I’m a freshman.” At two minutes to class time Ida had not made her appearance. “Guess she’s had a case of blighted love and is ashamed to show her face,” was more than one explanation of her absence. “Yes, that is what it is,” said Dorothy. “I happen to know the Hurst family myself. The picture of the handsome young man is Bob’s brother. I didn’t tell Ida, as I wished to take her down a peg or two.”