Bethel University - Spire Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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Little Jimmy Jones got one of the worst of them old typritters. Every time he touched the space bar. the derned critter jumped three spaces. Now, Jimmy wasn't much on patience. so he got right fired up when that typritter wouldn't work, and when Jimmy got his six foot, six inch body fired up. he made quite a scene. This happened at least four times every day. and every time it happened. MissCrabapple. whose name was true as blue for the boys, would come back and show Little Jimmy how the contraption worked. Every time she put her bony finger on that blame typritter, it worked like a good luck charm. After a spell, this everyday occurence got under Little Jimmy's nerves. He hadn't liked Miss Crabapple anyway since the day she caught him smokin' in the woodshed. She caught him by both arms and shook him. Brother, she shook him till every bone in his body rattled. As she was shakin', she said in her high nasal voice, “Jimmy, I think the Devil's got aholt of you. Jimmy looked right back at her and said. “I think he has tool Now Little Jimmy, he went down to Sam Parker's junk yard and bought hisself an old typritter that looked just like the one that he used in school. The next day. he snuck that old typritter into class and hid it under his desk. He waited till that derned space bar misfired a couple times, and Miss Crabapple had given a couple of lectures. Then, when the old lady went out of the room to take her regularity potion, he exchanged the typritters and put the old one he'd bought on his desk. Just as Miss Crabapple came back into the room, Jimmy slammed his fist on the desk, shouted. “This blame typritter! , and then proceeded to throw that old machine on the floor and stamp it to pieces. Miss Crabapple had never married, and I think those typritters had taken the piece of her own young'uns. She stood, with her mouth open in horror, as she watched Little Jimmy Jones dash one of her children to pieces. After Jimmy finished, she proceeded to run around and around the room screaming, Murder, Insurrection! Murder, Insurrection! This quickly carried to the principal's office which was down the hall a piece. He thought sure the school v as on fire, so he sounded the alarm and rushed down to see how bad it was. He arrived in the typritten' room to find Miss Crabapple fainted in a chair. Jane Anne Wilkins, youngest member of Sarah Long s temperance club, was fannin' he' with a hanky and damnin' Jimmy Jones to Hellfire. All the boys were laughing like hyeners. and I think the girls were enjoyin' it tco. but they was afraid to show it and get their 'lectric typritter took away. Even the principal's mouth was starting to crack a smile when Miss Crabapple came around. (I think it was the firetruck's whistle that brought her to.) He then regained his prin-cipalin' manner and took Jimmy Jones out by the ear. When that didn't seem to help Miss Crabapple's :ooks, he started removin' the “laughing boys . This duty was cut short, however, when the Maybell Valley Volunteer Fire Brigade started shootin' water in the window. You know, lookin' back, I think it all worked out for the best. Miss Crabapple resigned, and the State gave us enough typritters to replcce the old ones. Seein' as I'm President of the school board this year, maybe we should get one of those new-fangled 'lectric variable speed drills. I hear tell that old Mr. Markot's been hittln' the squeezing again. Let s see, maybe a bake sale . . .

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passages of pageantry Dave Eckert Thor Hansen Laura Phillips