Avon High School - Boomerang Yearbook (Avon, IL)

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51ir UUmmrratm Q ) r tt»3 -- - Sl%£g!3g0b ‘K' ■ ■— -=$'M »3 r- - Q Unman IfltU ®aur ffirr Wax] N the month of October of the year one thousand, eight hundred and ninety-nine, the Mulligans of New York and the Kerneys of “near Baton Rouge,” two families as unlike as environment could make them, found themselves thrown together with a common desire, namely, to acquire enough gold to retrieve their lost fortunes. Earlier in the year gold had been discovered in Alaska in the regions around Nome, and men were flocking thither from all parts of the world, eager to acquire their share of the glitteiing metal. In spite of family differences, Georgia Kerney, twelve years of age, and Kelly Mulligan, who was thirteen, soon found one ground of mutual understanding. “Ah’ll nevah use such horrible slang as these gold diggahs use,” declared Georgia, and Kelly asserted emphatically, “Bedad, I ain’t gonna quit de good ole Noo Yor’ lingo, either.” Dad Mulligan and Pop Kerney decided that there should be a school for the ten Mulligans and one Kerney, and as they were the leaders in the Nome district, on the tenth of October a school there was. Bill Yarnell, formerly a school teacher in Kentucky, whose “diggin’s hadn’t panned out good,” was hired to “learn ’em sumpin’ at an ounce per kid.” For three weeks Bill lorded it successfully as pedagogue in the opera house, a shack heated by a egless stove, and with other equipment to match. Then came the eventful Tuesday. Outside it was about twenty degrees below zero, and within the barnlike opera house, the school children were gathered as near the red-hot cast- iron stove as was possible. Kelly Mulligan, poker in hand, was idly twisting one of the stones which served as legs under the stove, when suddenly the stone jumped from beneath the heater, which started to tip over. The children scattered like quails and Bi 1 Yarnell turned just in time to find the red-hot heater on the floor. Quickly catching up the drinking water he soaked the floor with it and little damage was done. The rest of the afternoon was spent in cleaning the school room and attempting to discover the culprit. Bill took each pupil into a corner to be ques- tioned, but immediately after taking Georgia he called Kelly, although he was not next in line. That night as the children waded home through the snow, Kelly shouted at the top of his voice all the things he would do to get even with Georgia. All the South- ern miss said was “Ah guess Mistah Yarnell will give you’ns another thrashing if yo’ do.” The next day, true to his promise, Kelly tried to get revenge by dipping Georgia’s “pig-tail” into an inkwell, and when Miss Georgia proudly tossed her head, she threw ink over all nearby objects. Bill Yarnell kept both children after school, gave Kelly another thrashing and sent him home. The minute the door creaked behind Kelly, Georgia laid her head upon her desk and sobbed out, “Kelly nevah will speak to me again.” The year passed peacefully after this episode, for Kelly, the leader, had learned the strength of the master and the other boys profited by example. “Yo’ young’ns,” Bill said one afternoon in May. “bring some extra lunch tomorrow and we’ll go down to the mines.” The next forenoon found Bill and his pupils tramping down the trail to the mines, Georgia and Kelly lagging behind. Once more Kelly’s little demon took pos- session of him. “Now to get even with Miss Smarty!” He snatched her locket, breaking the ribbon on which it hung The trail led along the bank of a little stream. Many years before, an earth-

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cThr Utfumrrawj Qr-----tMt IM - frg) ahr Siaarmtna uf tUirntlm ♦ v 5 ELL, for goodness sake, mama, don’t say any more about it!” exclaimed Dor- othy in a tone which indicated that the discussion had been in progress for sometime. “I know he’ll be a perfect sissy and just spoil my party, but I’ll ask him if you feel that way about it.” And with that she ran up to her own room slamming the doors vigorously behind her. From her earliest memory, Dorothy Manning had positively hated Robert Sum- ner Bruce, the son of her mother’s girlhood chum. In fact, in the days before he had moved to California, she had been accustomed, when her mother scolded her for soiling her frock or for scattering her playthings, pointing out as an example of virtue Bobby’s angelic conduct, to slap him vigorously and then run away and howl dismally. Although she was so young, she had been vastly relieved when he moved away from the house next door, for her aversion to his virtues far exceeded her de- light in his companionship. But still she had not been wholly free from accounts of his perfection, for all of Aunt Ethel’s” letters contained long paragraphs extolling her son’s good qualities, and these passages were duly cited by Dorothy’s mother So, by the time Dorothy reached the age of eleven, she begun to cover her ears at the slightest mention of his name, and utterly refused to look at his picture. Now Dorothy was nearly eighteen, and in honor of this momentous occasion she was to give a house party with all of her particular friends in attendance. But when the invitations were sent out. Mrs. Manning insisted that it would be only po- lite to include her old playmate, Bobby, who was visiting in the east for the first time since the family had moved away. At first Dorothy stormed, but finally agreed to her mother’s demand. Accordingly the invitations were sent out and duly accepted, but now Dorothy was much too interested in exciting preparations of various sorts to think mucn about Bobby. Finally, on the afternoon before the other guests were to arrive, Dorothy, looking delightfully fresh and pretty in her simple white frock, set out in the roadster to meet her old playmate. As she prepared to depart, her mother called out bits of advice. “Now please, dear, don’t drive so furiously that your hair comes down; and do be careful of your dress. And Dorothy, do be nice to him.” “I don’t care how I look,” said Dorothy as she started the car, “I hope I look a fright As for being nice to him I’ll drive so fast comirg home that we can’t talk and then I mean to pair him off with Cora Smith. She gave me that awful red-head- ed, freckled cousin of hers at her party!” And with gay laugh she sent the car fly- ing down the drive. When the train stopped at the country station only two passengers flighted, fine of them an old fashioned looking old lady, and the other a young man who, in every particular, adequately fulfilled Dorothy’s expectations. For he was a delicate, foppish little man, approximately five feet in heighth, and fastidiously dressed with the shade of his necktie exactly reproduced in the pale lavender of his socks. Her worst fears were realized, but still Dorothey was disappointed he might at least have been bigger. Well, anyway, he was just the partner for Cora; and Dorothy laughed aloud at the thought, for Cora was about five feet nine inches tall and correspondingly heavy. She greeted him as cordially as even her mother could have expected under the circumstances, and led him toward the car. During this time the young man had uttered only the barest word of greeting in spite of Dor- othy’s polite remarks concerning the weather. (Cmlinurd on page thirty-six)

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MU» Chr Huumrrmui tM» Q» quake had changed the course of the water, leaving beside what was now the trail, a large rock, formerly in the center of the stream, with a curiously carved hole in its apex. Georgia, quick to spy an advantage and understanding Kelly’s nature, cried out, “Ah dare you-all to put my locket on that rock.” With a careless fling, Kelly threw the locket—right down in the apex of the rock. “Mistah Yarnell,” cried Georgia loudly, “Mistah Yarnell! Kelly threw mah locket away!” “Didn’t neither! You dared me.” “Mistah Yarnell! You-all make Kelly get mah locket.” “Wal,” said Bill, “if you don’t want another thrashing Kelly, you’d better fetch that locket.” Kelly, with certain unpleasant recollections of Bill Yarnell’s muscle in action, obediently climbed the rock to find no locket. “Guess she’s side-tracked down the hole. Aint no locket hereabouts.” “It went down that hole. Ah saw it, Kelly Mulligan,” asserted Georgia, with a stamp of her foot. “You’d better go to town and fetch some powder and get that locket Kelly ” said Bill. “Aw, not fer no locket.” “You heard what I said.” At this, Kelly started for town, and the rest of the group went on down the trail toward the mines. Soon, however, Georgia dropped quietly behind, and started back to the rock. “Wouldn’t it be funny,” she mused, “if Kelly’d find gold in that rock? Then, ah reckon he’d go back to New York, and his dad d build more houses. Ah wish Kelly and me could be married and live in one -and have a pet cat— and Georgia dropped quietly down beside the trail some distance from the rock, for she could hear Kelly grumbling to himself as he plied drill and hammer. “Fool girl! Bedad! All fer a locket! Might o’ knowed she’d have her way. She’d oughta lose it, and me not with the gang faith, I guess the hole’s deep enough for de big noise—” Kelly carefully tamped the powder in and arranged the fuse. He looked about carefully to see that no one was near, and touched off the fuse. After “de big noise,” he hurried to the rock, and gave a shout of surprise. “Holy Moses, have I struck a pocket?” Sure enough, Kelly had struck a pocket. This small horde of gold had been de- posited in the rock by the stream. “Ah guess now Mistah Kelly, you can go back to New York!” said Georgia wist- fully, as she came running up and spied the “find.” And Pa Mulligan with the ten young Mulligans, Kelly included, did leave for New York on the next boat. Does woman always have her way? The final chapter in the Kerney-Mulligan tale was added ten years later. In the marriage license column of Georgia’s home-town paper, interested friends read: Kelly Mulligan, New York, 23; Georgia Kerney, LeGrande, 22 Yes, woman will have her way! By FORREST TOWNSEND.