Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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16 THE SENIOR IMAGNET JACK PUTS ONE OVER Vincent McKee And furthermore, Jack, this is the last fine I'll pay on account of your disregard for speed laws.” “But dad, I was only testing the motor I have been designing.” “Nonsense! A nineteen year old boy like you couldn’t design a babv carriage let alone a motor for a racing machine. You would do better if you spent that time on your studies. “Dad, I’ll bet you a thousand dollars that within six months I will have a motor of my own design that will outstrip anything ever produced in the Randal factory. You may take the money from my allowance if I lose.” “All right! I’ll put up five thousand dollars against your one thousand to show you that I’m still game.” When Jack had left the room, Mr. Randal leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “It will go hard with the bov to lose a thousand dollars, but it will teach him a lesson.” Jack Randal was the son of A. C. Randal, a wealthy manufacturer of automobiles built for speed. Jack was “a chip off the old block,” as the saying goes, and inherited the enthusiasm and determination of his father. As the weeks passed, little was said about the bet, excepting an occasional friendly gibe or joking remark by Mr. Randal. Nearly five months had passed when Jack finally announced the completion of his car. “So it is really completed,” said his father. “Well, well, and when do you want to race me?” “Any time suits me,” replied Jack. “Well, then let us set the contest for Saturday of next week. I’ll demonstrate to you then how quickly a fellow' like you can lose a thousand dollars. “Why, dad, my car is a wonder. It is by far the speediest thing that was ever built in the Randal factory.” “We’ll see! w'e’ll see!” replied Mr. Randal with a twinkle in his eyes. The day for the race arrived and both cars were taken to the speedway, the father and sot giving their machines a final inspection with as much fondness as though the mechanism were human. Finally both announced their readiness and the cars were placed side by side with steadily purring motors. At the signal both w'ere off with the swiftness of eagles. As they sped over the smooth surface of the steeply banked track, their motors roared with that steady drone which comes only from the finest motors in the best adjustment. Slowly Jack’s car drew away from his father’s. Each lap put a greater distance between the two cars. At the end of the twentieth mile lap and the end of the race, Jack’s machine crossed the line six laps ahead of the other. Jack alighted from his car, his face wreathed in smiles. But his joy was slight compared to that of Mr. Randal, who rushed forward, exclaiming, “Great, wonderful, marvelous, son; that’s the fastest car in the country. 1 never saw anything like it. Congratulations, Jack.” That evening Jack was given his five thousand dollars. “1 knew it was sure money, said Jack with a grin as he received it. “Here is another little present,” replied Mr. Randal, handing him a paper. “Wh-wh-what!” stammered Jack as he looked at it, “a-h half interest in the Randal Motor Company.” “You deserve it, Jack. That car of yours is away ahead of anything else built.”

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THE SENIOR tMAGNET help Norman in the matter. One night when Norman and Barbara had been to a movie together, they came home and sat in the glimmering moonlight, conversing in whispers, Finally, Norman mustered up enough courage to take Barbara's hand, and old Peter watching his chance, popped out just then. He looked from one to the other, “Well, well, lie exclaimed, “1 suspected it. Easy come, easy go. Well, Norman, if anyone must have my little girl, I’m glad it’s you. And Norman did the rest. The night before the wedding, Babs handed Peter a pair of very shabby, worn out little slippers. “Please throw’ these out, daddy. They can never be used again.” But Romance laughed until she cried, when old Peter took those slippers and locked them up in his cupboard. •B.H.S.- A TRUE STORY Abram Barron Not many years ago I was born in Bvliastok, Russian Poland; the town was inhabited by many Jews, who lived in constant fear of pogroms. These pogroms were as common in those days as they are in these. In 1906 my father decided to leave for America. This announcement was brought about after many days of deliberation, and as we had relatives in America that were not poor, they were willing to help my father get started on the road to prosperity. My father decided to leave on a certain Monday. The rest of us were to follow as soon as father had made enough money to bring us over. On Thursday of the same week a pogram broke out. That event has left an impression upon my mind that shall never be effaced, for the horrors of this pogrom are still fresh in my mind. On Thursday evening all was quiet, and then the news, came out. The Jewish soldiers had been arrested. Why? was the question raised. There had been no outbreak. Then the truth came out. Two regiments of royal Russian soldiers had come for a visit to our town. They were drunk. The Jewish soldiers had been placed in prison to be out of the way of the Russian soldiers; and then we knew our fate. The first shot came at ten o’clock; a storekeeper had been killed. Then amidst great confusion the Jews took to their houses, and at our house we hid under the bed. As 1 lay near my mother, I could hear her beg God that we should be spared. The pogrom lasted two days; a person lived a life time. Fathers were killed, mothers insulted, and babies dissected. It was horrible for one knew not w’hen his turn should come to be killed. Then at last deputies from St. Petersburg came and they caused the soldiers to stop their murdering and plundering. Some months later, money came from America to us. Our happiness can never be expressed to America; the land of the free where the streets were paved with gold. But best of all, where one could live without fear and dread. And when we left, I heard my mother say, “ Thanks unto thee, Lord, for Thy goodness and mercy.”

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THE SENIOR CM AGN E T 17 M. D. Francis Horwitz Shakespeare himself could not have selected a more entrancing setting for his touching love scenes than this beautiful rose garden of the wealthy Kimballs. Narrow paths wound in and out among the fragrant roses, and in the midst of the flowers was a miniature lake. But all was not in harmony with this lovely scene, for in the midst of this paradise a storm was gathering. In the serene water was the reflection of a young girl, the pampered and idolized daughter of Judge Kimball. Gwendolyn Kimball, for such was her name, was a twentieth century athletic type of a girl. 1 ler blue hat, trying to cover her blond curls, and blue sport suit accentuated the color of her eyes. Her cheeks were vividly pink, evidently from the heated discussion. Near Guen was a tall young man possessing dark sleek hair, dark eyes, and the tell-tale lines about his eyes and mouth indicating a jovial disposition. I le was also the proud possessor of the letters M .D. affixed to the name Warren Barnard. “Warren, you simply must go to the reception with me tonight. It is the event of the season, and how would it look for me to go without you so soon after our engagement?” insisted Guen. “I’m very sorry, but it is impossible. There is a consultation tonight about one of my patients. It is a case of life and death, and 1 have no alternative. Guen, can’t you get someone else to go with you tonight?” he earnestly pleaded. “You have no consideration for me. Your thoughts are all centered about your profession. You don't have any time for me,” said Guen, bursting into tears. “All that you think about are your own selfish pleasures,” said Warren, now thoroughly aroused to anger. “I can’t give up my work. How can you sit around and do nothing when there is so much misery and pain? Everybody should try to do some good for humanity.” With this he walked away, leaving Guen astonished and bewildered. Never in all her young life had she been reproved by anyone except her father, and very rarely by him. Whatever she wished, Guen had always received, whether by flattery or subtile coquetry. Warren passed entirely out of her life, but his last words rang incessantly in her ears— “Everybody should try to do some good for humanity.” After pondering and meditating upon these words, Guen impulsively decided to do something for the uplift of humanity. She was not cold-hearted and unsympathetic, but merely needed a bombshell to open her eyes. She entered a large hospital to train as a nurse and threw herself into her work. A year later found Guen rapidly mounting the top steps on the ladder of her career. Efficient anti attentive in her administration, she was liked and admired by all. One day Guen was summoned into the office of the head nurse. A small mining town was besieged with an epidemic of influenza and two nurses were asked to go there. Guen and another nurse, Miss Calvitt volunteered, and the same day they left for Coalsburg. After travelling for two hours, they reached their destination, and at a small dilapidated structure known as Coalsburg Station, they were met by one of the native inhabitants. After introducing himself as Jeremiah 'Forney, the local mail carrier, ticket agent and taxi driver, he led them to an ancient looking five passenger