Westwood High School - Chipmunk Yearbook (Westwood, CA)

 - Class of 1925

Page 17 of 66

 

Westwood High School - Chipmunk Yearbook (Westwood, CA) online yearbook collection, 1925 Edition, Page 17 of 66
Page 17 of 66



Westwood High School - Chipmunk Yearbook (Westwood, CA) online yearbook collection, 1925 Edition, Page 16
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Page 17 text:

The Chipmunk Page Thirteen how such a vicious looking character dared even approach our yacht.” This last at the sight of me, and giving me the once over with her monocle. ‘‘Now Laura, m’love, don't be too hasty with her. Skipper Adams, here, has just saved her from the peril of the cruel, cruel depths of these roaring waters.” After they had finished their little confab. Hugh spoke for the first time since their entrance. ‘‘Now, if I may. let me introduce you folks. Miss Priest meet Mr. and Mrs. Goldrocks. You already know them, however, as Laura Chaffin and Rudolph Koltz.” I was standing up now, but this was too much and I reeled over, falling against Rudolph who was not expecting such actions and, losing his balance, toppled gracefully over, landing rather heavily on the bare floor. The racket brought me to and I was escorted into Mrs. Goldrocks’.room. There she left me for a few minutes and returned with some clothes that looked as though they might fit me. I hurriedly cleaned myself up and changed my clothes, and just as we were going out the door a handsome, husky fellow came running up to Mrs. Goldrocks with a telegram which said something about their youngest daughter being very ill and to rush home immediately. Turning on her French heels, Mrs. Goldrocks rushed away to find her husband and left me alone with the messenger. "Pardon me, ma’am, but I’m sure I’ve seen your face some place before,” he said. "You must be mistaken,” I answered, "because I’ve had it right here with me all the time.” "Well, perhaps I’m mistaken—er—no, by Jove. I'm not. Ah! I know now— How are you, anyway, Bud?” "Why—Clay Fisher, of course. What are you doing here?" "Me? Oh. I’m the radio operator here. Swell job. I’ll say. I m treated just like one of the family and always invited to all the big blowouts.” Next morning by ten o’clock we were home again—or rather at the Gold- rocks’ mansion. That afternoon as I was wandering about the gardens I met Clay so we sat down and talked over old times. "Please tell me everything you know about any of our old classmates," I pleaded, "because I’ve never heard from any of them for so many years.” "Well. I think I’ve kept in touch with most of them. Let's see now, there are a good many of them right here in Los Angeles and Hollywood. Gee. it's too bad you weren't here last week, because Clyde Easley and Vincent Felion— I presume you remember them—were on the Orpheum Circuit and were the hit of the season. They’re on their way to New York now, though. Perhaps you'll be able to see them on their return trip." "It’s funny about Hugh, isn't it?” I said. "Yes. it is. You see he and Bun Davis started a big hospital together, but Hugh got too old and so he got the job he has now: says he likes it much better, anyhow.” "Now there’s MaryAnn and Angie. Where are they?” "What! Haven't you heard about them? Well, probably not, you never

Page 16 text:

Page Twelve The Chipmunk Senior Prophecy Alone in the world, I wandered aimlessly down the streets of Los Angeles hungry and tired, without the slightest idea where I was to get my next meal or where I was to rest my weary frame. I wandered for hours and finally came to Long Beach. It must have been fully nine o’clock when I stood looking into the water thinking how wonderful it would be to end it all. The thought struck me so hard that I lost my bearings and plunged into the cold, cruel water. Because I am writing this, there is no need for me to say that I was rescued. 1 came to, and expected to hear angels singing—one does expect too much sometimes, I suppose—but I was disappointed, for instead, I heard the strains and pounds of a jazz orchestra. Looking around, I found myself lying on a small couch in a rather bare but neat room. Over in the corner I observed an old gray-haired fellow staring at me with a rather puzzled expression. As would be expected, I said, "Where am I. and how did I get here?” There was no answer and so I repeated my question, a little louder this time, thinking perhaps that he might be hard of hearing. At this he got up from his chair and walked over to a shelf where there was a glass of water out of which he took a plate of false teeth and placed them in his mouth, then turning to me said slowly, "Well, as to where you are, if your hearing is good you can tell for yourself that you are at no funeral, but on the private yacht of Mr. Goldrocks, and as to how you got here; well, I heard a splash and saw you bob up and down a couple of times so I lowered a life boat and pulled you out. If Mrs. Goldrocks found out she would probably squawk like a pig caught under a gate. All the time he was talking I noticed something very familiar about him, but couldn't quite figure out where I had seen him before: and then when he made that remark concerning the pig I realized suddenly that I was speaking to no one other than an old schoolmate, Hugh Adams. I was speechless for a few moments; then as I slowly came to my senses I cried, "Why, Hugh Adams, what in the world are you doing here? I thought if I ever saw you again you would be some noted physician. Don't you recognize me? I am Bud Priest." At first he looked sympathetically at me as though he thought that the water had in some way affected my upper extremities but at the mention of my name he brightened up and vigorously shook my hand. "Well, well, so it is. My, but you have changed. If you looked around carefully you might see some more of our Senior class. Just a minute and I'll show you something that will be a rather surprise and shock to you.” At this he made his exit but soon returned followed by a personage who looked so abused and maltreated that I wanted to laugh and yet cry in sym- pathy for the poor fellow. As he stood staring at me, a stout, over-dressed, bejeweled woman appeared at the door and at the sight of Mr. Goldrocks sternly exclaimed: "At last I have found you, Rudolph! I’ve been searching the yacht for you and----- why, what does this mean? Who are you? I can’t understand



Page 18 text:

Page Fourteen The Chipmunk did read the newspaper much anyway, so I guess I had better tell you. Mary Ann has just completed a world tour of tennis tournaments, defeating all her opponents: and Angie is one of the biggest hits in Ziegfeld's Follies, doing fancy roller skating." ‘‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Alice, either. She was an actress for a while but didn't like it much and the last I heard of her she had gone to Russia and married a Russian prince,—or some kind of nobility. I hat was nearly five years ago so if she's like Leona, you can’t tell where or what she is now.” "It’s been almost eight years since I heard from Leona," I interrupted. "Well, during those eight years it has been very, very hard to keep track of her. She got a job on the Literary Digest joke staff, and she has been sued for libel so many times by people who thought the shoe fitted too quick, that now she adopts a new alias and moves to a new apartment every three weeks. The last I heard of her, she was known as the Countess Kickoff of Minnehaha Falls Inn.” "Well, there's not much I can say for myself, except that I went to work as a living advertisement for the Wig-Wag Gum Company, but I found that standing on the corner of Market and Geary in San Francisco all day chewing gum made it impossible for me to talk after hours, and I became so despondent I came down here to L. A. to catch one sight of my idol. Mary Pitchfork, before I ended it all. But the sight of the Skipper surprised me so, that my power of speech seems to have returned entirely."

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