Bloomington High School - Aepix Yearbook (Bloomington, IL)

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14 THE AEGIS PICTURES AND PICTURES A MEMBER or B. H. S. The clock on the dingy wall of the city room of the Morning Star would have struck five, if it had been a striking clock. Being unendowed with a voice, it merely pointed a warning hand at the figure five and ticked solemnly on. The city room at five in the afternoon was always a busy place. Half a dozen typewriters beat a brisk tattoo while the half dozen reporters who manned them contemplatively chewed frazzled cigars. A diminutive copy-boy slouched insolently from desk to desk, collecting the copy that the machines had ground out. Enthroned behind his large and hopelessly littered desk in one corner sat young Jim Worth, city editor. Jim was efficient, twenty-five, and busy. Beyond that there was nothing unusual about him, for we must not have too much description in a fifteen hundred word story. Before him lay a heap of copy which he was revising and supplying with headings. He had just read a very lengthy and very uninteresting article by the dramatic and musical critic of the Star, and his blue pencil hovered in the air a moment as he thought over the heading. Then he wrote: H MADAME ALONDRA TO SING HERE Famous Metropolitan Opera Soprano Will Give a Concert at the Chatterton Opera House Tonight. EXTRAOEDINAEY SEAT SALE He paused to read over the heading and then picked up from the desk a photograph which portrayed the expansive and rather buxom features of the aforesaid prima donna. For a moment Jim critically inspected her, then marked off a blue square on the copy sheet, with the inscription Insert cut here. Pushing aside the uninteresting article together with the equally unin- teresting picture of the singer, he picked up the next story, and plunged into a gruelling account of a family feud in Forty Acres. Ted, the trained office boy clumped across the room. He slapped a bundle of mail on Jim Worth 's desk and continued on his blithe road. Jim finished reading his gory tale, made a few marks with his dictatorial blue pencil and began to sort the mail. Most of it received only a glance from him and then travelled via the air route to the Exchange Editor at the adjoining desk. Of the few letters which he kept, Jim singled out a bulky, square envelope, which was addressed to Mr. James Worth, fpersonalj and which exhaled a faint odor of sandalwood.

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THE AEGIS 13 when the little princess slipped out. Through the great front door, through the garden, keeping close to the tall hollyhocks which hid her from the palace windows, and across the daisy iield, hurried the scheming princess, free at last to go over, or under, or around, or through the tempting wall if only she could, by any means, find a way. lt must have been her lucky day for the great gate was unlocked, and all she had to do was to push. But that seemed a very hard thing to do. l guess l 'in weak 'cause l've always had a servant to open my gates, she exclaimed, but being a plucky little princess she kept on pushing until she was red in the face and all out of breath. lf she hadn't been a princess, she might have cried, but that was the most particular lesson in her queen-book,- Never Cry. No matter how vexed, or worried, or unhappy a queen is, she must not cry. So she swallowed hard and pushed some more. Suddenly the gate flew open a11d she went sprawling through it, flat on the ground. A queer little girl tried to help the princess up, but she didn 't help much, for her poor, little, thin legs were strapped in steel braces, and an ugly harness was fastened around her waist, so that she eouldn't stoop over. The little girl explained that she had been trying to pull the gate open because folks said there were daisies in the King's field and she had never seen a daisy. She was .1 very lonesome little girl, for she had 110 playmates, and her father was too poor to buy her books orltoysg it took so much money to pay the doctor who was trying to make her legs straight. The little princess listened in amazement, shocked at the elbow patches and old worn shoes which made her conscious of her own beautiful dress and dainty white slippers. - 't0h, she cried, lt makes me ashamed of myself. I'll never be disap- pointed again when l can't see my mother very often and have to be tagged to my governessf' lt isn't very pleasant to be a queen. They have to go to prisons, and they never know when their husbands are going to be beheaded, a11d their children are shut up in towers, and their favorite ladies always clope with traitors, and every other kind of horrid things, 'i the little lame girl said. But it 's worse to be lame and poor a11d my side of the wall is best, rc- torted the little princess. Back across the daisy-field ran the princess, and the lame little girl stood watching her through the open gate. Sighing and slowly shaking her head she said, No, l don 't like the other side ofthe wall, after all. l'd rather stay here, even if my legs do hurt me, where l can see my mother all the time, where my husband can keep his head and we don 't have to go to prison if we are honest. I'1l never try to open that gate again. And so each little girl, the little princess with so much in the world, and so little besides, and the poor little girl with so little in the world, and so much besides, learned that she was happiest in the place where she belonged.

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THE AEGIS 15 With deft and perhaps a trifle hasty fingers the city editor opened the envelope. From it fell four closely-written sheets of paper, and a picture. For a long minute Jim gazed at the pretty face that smiled back at him from the card, which bore the inscription, Ever yours, Marian. Presently he laid the picture on the edge of the desk and began to read the letter. Of course it 's a well-known fact that such letters will bear re-reading, that they even become more interesting each time, as one constantly discovers new and hidden beauties of style. Thus it happened that Jim was reading the scented missive for the third-or was it the fourth 1?-time, when a suppressed snieker from the Ex- change Editor's desk brought him back to earth with a start. A guilty flush spread over the young man 's face as he gathered up letter and photograph in hasty confusion and jammed them into his pocket. The blue pencil was travelling at top speed over sheet after sheet of type- written paper, when Ted oozed up to the desk. Any copy? Yes, Ted, responded the city editor, without glancing up from a heart rending obituary notice, jerking a thumb at the Madame Alondra story, Take that stuff to the typo, and that picture up to the engraving room. And tell the engraver to be sure to do a good job, it's a front page article. Yes sir! responded the willing Ted, as he gathered up the picture and papers and ambled toward the door. Jim's pencil was still exceeding the speed limit when Ted returned twenty minutes later. U if i 1 I' if if if 'Il 1 Jim Worth yawned. He laid his book on the center table of his neat bachelor apartment, tossed his cigar into 'the grate and yawned again. His watch informed him that it was half past one, and time for his beauty sleep. lle had left the office soo11 after midnight, having finished his editorial duties and having left the newspaper to the tender mercies of the proof-reader. Now, as he slowly divested himself of his coat, he reflected that he really deserved a rest. Suddenly a thought Hashed upon him. To be sure! He had forgotten all about Marian's picture and letter in his pocket. He would read the letter onee more, and put the picture in the little silver frame on the maiitle. He fumbled in the eoat pocket a moment. Yes, there it was, the letter and the picture. As he unfolded onee more the sheets of the letter, he glanced at the picture. The glance froze into a stare. J im 's eyes became glassy and his jaw dropped. Was he losing his eyesight or his mind? He wondered vaguely whether he was per- fectly sane, as he gazed with fascination at the broad and world-famous features of Madame Alondra. J im 's first and only remark was one that no self-respecting family magazine would repeat. Then he struggled i11to his coat a11d was off down the street at a run. The Main Street lights were turned off, and the street ears had long since stopped running. A startled policeman awoke from his snooze beside the signal box long enough to wonder who could have kicked him on the shi11, when there was no one in sight except a young man two blocks away travelling like a steamer whose captain has just sighted a periseope.