Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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24 THE SENIOR MAGNET n m Not by a long shot, sir!” Crash said. I want credit with three ships besides the ones that you credited me with getting before I ever shot them down. What do you mean by that?” said the Commander. I mean, sir, that I met a flight of Fokkers, and luck seemed to be with me.” The Commander quickly took up the telephone and got Headquarters, where he found out that what Crash said was true. The Commander, with a smile looked up at Crash and said, Well, Crash, what a 'wash-out’ you turned out to be!” Advice to Freshmen Alice Well tier So live that u hen thy summons, comes to rise And recite thy lesson, thou mayest hold thy place Among the perfect ones. When tfjou risest. Park thy gum under the seat carefully. Look thy instructor straight in the eye; no need To admit so soon that thou art a blockhead. Refrain From running thy finger up and down the desk, as nervous As a cat — the varnish will wear off soon enough. And don't think that the old ruse, I can't pronounce That word,'' will get you anywhere. Speak with a voice Loud and sonorous; and only when thou, art through, sit down. Follow all these precepts, and per japs, after many Long and weary days have passed, thou too Mayest wrap the folds of thy cap and gown around thee And decorate the stage as we do now.

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 23 seconds of fighting, he got the Fokker in his ring-sights; he felt a queer sensation as he watched his bullets tear through the cock-pit of the Fokker. What had been a mighty fighter of the air was now swooping to death in a cloud of smoke. He must get another to put the Old Man straight. Some instinct caused him to look around; he found that he had run into a trap; he was cornered. Between him and his own lines were four Fok-kers. Even as he banked to make some kind of a stand for himself, one ship fired on him; but Crash’s maneuvers caused the shots to go wide. Desperately, he sent his ship into the midst of the Fokker formation. Caught off their guard by the mad maneuver of Crash, one of the German ships went to the earth in black smoke. The next moment, the other three were whipping the air about him with their stinging bullets. The guns of one red-nosed Fokker were spitting a shower of bullets at the defiant ship. Crash took a sudden dive towards the earth, pulled out of his dive, and riddled the bottom of the Fokker with his bullets, sending another ship out of the one-sided fight. Crash did not get away untouched. While he was pouring his bullets into his adversary, the other two Fokkers jumped on his tail. Above the roar of the ships, he heard the guns below and noticed a wire on his left wing part as a stray bullet from one of the ships made a hit. Falling out of control, Crash let his ship fall toward the earth, which is a trick to lure on an enemy ship. The other two ships became careless, thinking that they had at last downed Crash’s ship and came roaring after him. Crash suddenly pulled back on his stick, expecting to see the wings of his ship float on past him, but the wings still held; and with a long swing upward, Crash came under the diving Fokkers who could not get out of his sights, and he had the luck of seeing another Fokker going down, a burning ship. The other pilot, seeing what had just happened to his fellow ships, evidently thought that they had been fighting an ace or a devil, and turning tail, opened his throttle and headed for home. Crash resolved that from now on he would handle his ship like others handled theirs. Without worrying, he’d maintain real speed for the landing and make a job of it from start to finish. Five minutes later, a very much battered ship glided down to the tarmac with a dead engine. From hangars, there came running a score of mechanics. Crash was anxious. Would he make a mess of the landing and smash the ship? Recklessly, he slipped down at high gliding speed. Within two feet of the tarmac, he drew the ship level and prayed that he would make a good landing. With a bounce, the ship hit the ground, ran for fifteen feet; the left wing suddenly tipped; and then, the crash. Crash climbed from the wreck and stood looking at his ship. Fine landing, sir!” the fight sergeant’s voice said. Landing gear was badly shot up and gave out.” Crash made a run for the Commander’s office and rushing in at the door saw the Old Man sitting at his desk. Well, Crash, am I a liar?” said the Old Man in his steady voice.

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THE SENIOR MAGNET 25 HM - — •' Mrs Snow’s Ambition Duira Baldinger THE last rays of the sun touched the gray hair on the pillow with tints of rose and gold. The woman’s eyes flickered open. Her head moved restlessly. Nurse!” I’m right here, Mrs. Snow.” Jean O’Neill looked over the top of her magazine. Oh! What’s that you’re reading?” The old eyes gleamed strangely. Burton’s Weekly. Would you like me to read to you?” The woman’s wrinkled face was tense. A line deepened on her forehead. Don’t read. Turn to page thirty and tell me the winners of last week’s contest. Please.” Jean turned to page thirty. There were three names. Mrs. Brown, 221 Green Avenue, Millvale; Miss Dickson, 340 Fairfield Street, Haverhill; Mrs. Wharton, 675 Elm Street, Georgetown.” Is that all. Nurse?” Yes, Mrs. Snow.” Thank you.” The face looked tired, discouraged. Jean looked at her keenly. Mrs. Snow, did you enter a letter in that contest?” Mrs. Snow averted her face with the shamed gesture of a child who has been discovered doing something foolish but enjoyable. Yes, I—I guess I’m just a silly old woman. I sent a letter in last week. That was before I took sick. Now, I’ll never have another chance at a contest.” Her voice was quivering. Jean looked at her understandingly. Would you like to win a contest, Mrs. Snow?” Two eyes looked at her wistfully. Nurse, if I could win just one contest before I die, I’d be happy. It’s not the prize I want but just the feeling of knowing what it is to win.” She was becoming confidential. For forty years, I’ve entered every contest I’ve heard of, but I’ve never won any of them. Now, I won’t have another chance. I heard what the doctor said this morning about my having only a week to live. Oh, don’t look so pitiful. I’m glad to go, but I would like to win a contest before my time comes. My daughters used to laugh at me. I don’t blame them—I suppose it was funny—but I would like to surprise them.” Her mouth was grim. Something hard and painful came into Jean’s throat. This old woman— entering all those contests—always hoping—always disappointed— listening to her daughters’ laughter—the height of her ambition to win a prize! Suddenly, she had an inspiration.