Arcata High School - Advance Yearbook (Arcata, CA)

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must do something. We might have some one read the part, suggested Miss Johnson. Could we? asked Dorothy, hopefully, but the light died out of her eyes as quickly as it had flamed, with the thought, Who could do it 7 She cast a despairing glance at Miss Johnson, but the words died on her lips when she saw how tired and care worn little Miss Johnson, the sen- ior class teacher, had grown in the last few weeks of strenuous work. Doro- thy did not have the heart to ask the impossible of her again. Hurriedly remedying her damaged make-up and drawing her cape closer around her, she left the ante-room and stepped softly into a small hallway which opened directly into the front of the auditorium. One by one, as she looked over the scores of faces, she was able to pick out the various senior boys, but for some reason, none of those present were qualified. They were either too large to play the part of the orphan, or cofuld not read. There was not a minute to lose. At any moment she expected Miss Johnson to come out and make the fatal announcement. With increasing anxiety and eyes blinded by tears, she continued to scan the multitude of faces. They all seemed strange and far away--occasionly they were all mass- ed together in a hazy blur. Dorothy opened the door a little wider, so that she could get a better view of the faces nearer the stage. Was it providence, or what?-- her eyes fell on little Johnny Reynolds sitting by the side of his widowed mother, his pale but animated face made almost beautiful by the soft glow of the footlights. In an instant Dorothy was by his side, uncon- scious of the surprised and questioning faces of her many friends. Life had been unfair to Johnny from the start. From the time that, as a very small boy, one of his legs had been badly twisted in an accident, until he stood at the head ofthe senior class at the early age of fifteen, his life had been one continuous struggle against odds. Johnny had a fair complex- ion that any girl might envy, a mass of golden brown hair, which curled in a distracting way over his forehead, and small, white, tapering hands, However, his peculiar personality did not end here, for one look into his keen, deep blue eyes was enough to convince one that he was the possessor of an extraordinary, if not superior, intellect. The members of the senior class were entirely overshadowed by his genius. Johnny,please come--we need you , whispered Dorothy, hardly daring to trust her voice. She had forgotten all about his crippled leg in the thought that he could read, and that he was not always asking a lot of fool- ish questions when asked to do something. Johnnylifted questioning eyes, but like the gentleman he was, he limped after her without saying aword. As soon as Dorothy had closed the door on the auditorium and the curious eyes of the increasing crowd, she turned to Johnny and explained what had happened. It was not until then that she realized to the fullest extentthe foolish position she had placed her- self in. Not until then did she realize how ridiculous it would be to have one of the parts readg but now she could see it all--the carefully and artist- ically arranged stage--the dance of the fairies--the soft blending of colors 27

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THE SUBSTITUTE Miss Johnson, Miss Johnson! - - something terrible has happened! exclaimed a breathless girl, fairly running into the ante-room of the State. Her flushed and tear-stained face had marred her grease-paint make-up, making it entirely out of keeping with her fairy costume, vnliict her di- sheveled cape failed to hide. Why, Dorothy, whatever can be the matter? asked Miss Johnson, hardly able to find her voice in the sense that something had indeed gene wrong. It was barely twenty minutes before the curtain would rise in the crowded auditorium. All the cast was present but Howard Rcylzrd, vxl c had one of the leading parts. If anything had happened to him--it was no wonder that Miss Johnson was afraid to speak. Yes, sobbed Dorothy, reading the questicn in ter eyes, it's Howard -- badly hurt in an auto accident -- we passed them on the way -- could anything be so tragic? -- and on this of all nights! What shall we do-- what can we do? and she sank, almost exhausted into a chair. ' Miss Johnson's face went chalky white. It seemed to her almost im- possible that all of her work, careful planning, and coaching for weeks previous was to be for nothing. Oh, why didnit I double cast the principal part-sli' she cried. It isn't your fault. Miss Johnson, there!s no one in the senicr class who could have taken Howard's part, that is--maybe Johnny cculd--leut ke's a cripple. Anything would have been better than this. Oh dear, what shall we do! Why didn't I train him as alternate! I thought he wouldn't do, Miss Johnson reproached herself, for she could see his anxious little face as he had timidly asked for a part. She remembered now the day when Johnny had been sick, and she had called at his home that evening and found him reciting one of the old plays to his mother, sitting by his bedside. The mother's explanation that it was one of J onny's hobbies to secure copies of the plays and learn them kept ringing in her ears, but it was too late now. For a long moment a deathly silence fell on the little group whose gay costumes and painted faces could not cover their agitation. No one dared to speak. Then Miss Johnson, with firm resolve, slowly removed her apron, wiped the stains of the paint from giving the finishing touches to the make-up from the tips of her fingers, and started for the entrance to the stage. In a moment Dorothy sensed the situation and sprang in front of her. Don't--please don't, Miss Johnson, for the sake of the senior class-- for our sake--for my sake, don't tell them we can't give the play! But what else can we do? Don't you see that we can't give it? But the cup! We must win the cup--our play was so much better than the others. We can't let the juniors carry off the honors now --we 26

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the sweet tinkling strains of music- -enter Johnny, the orphan, with the play in his hand .... Have you ever read the play before, J ohnny?'l asked Dorothy, sober- ly. I know most of it by heart, answered Johnny. his eyes fairly bursting with questions. The effect on Dorothy was instantaneous. Johnny, do you really? You have saved the day for the seniors! With a glad cry, she seized his hand and, forgetting all about Johnny's lame leg in her excitement, fairly pulled him into the dressing room. Get ready, everyone! she exclaimed, Johnny knows the part, and the curtain goes up in five minutes! There was a whirl of excitement, and echoes of astonishment from every corner, followed by a hurrying here and there and an assembling of cos- tumes that had already been discarded. Before Johnny hardly knew what was happening, both Miss Johnson and Dorothy were busy applying cream, paint, eyebrow pecil, and powder. Last of all he was slipped into a little coat. One, two minutes passed--the assembly clock struck eight--the curtain slowly parted on a beautiful little scene in the woods ..... Miss Johnson slipped from the dressing room unnoticed, into the audi- torium, and with nerves almost on the breaking point, watched for the mo- ment when Johnny would enter. Whether the play was a success or failure, whether the beautiful silver cup would be left as a memorial to the high school in the name of the seniors or juniors, all depended upon little Johnny. A look of surprise spread quickly over the several hundred faces when Johnny appeared. One breathless moment passed before he began to speak, and then one could have heard a pin drop. His voice, as clear as a bell, car- ried to the very back of the auditorium, yet the pathos and sweetness with which he spoke were so pronounced that everyone listened in breathless interest to the very last word. Only those nearer the front could see the light of success in his eyes. His chance had come and he was prepared. The seniors won the cup. Upon its silvery side the following inscript- ion was engraved, with the hearty consent of every member, to shine forth encouragement for the seniors in the years to come. In Memory Of John E. Reynolds, By Whose Persierverance, Courage, Loyalty It Was Won And Dorothy L. Manners, Our Class President, Class Of '25 -Lottie Chase '25 28