Charlotte High School - Witan Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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T H K VV I T A N g’uys. Then turning, he beckoned, and the great Ferguson-Pun nett” moving picture organization drew up in the street. The rest moved on down the alley, where they began im- mediately to match pennies. 'T guess the love scene comes next, doesn’t it? asked Reid. “Love scene, my eye!” bellowed John Donoghue, “it's the murder scene.” “It is not; it’s the happy home- coming scene,” said Marguerite Heyd- weiller, “You’re crazy, yuh Dutchman; it's the murder scene,” cried John. “Well, I wrote the thing; 1 guess I ought to know if anybody does,” an- swered Marguerite. “Let’s see the manuscript,” said James Haste Reid. The manuscript was produced. Ev- erybody began unrolling it and pull- ing on it. Soon yard after yard of paper had been unrolled and was either wrapped around everybody in general or was on the ground. “Guess we went by it,” said Mildred Grant. Accordingly they tried to follow' through the tangled mess again, but this time back end to. “Oh, T got it,” piped up Rose Schwarts. “It’s right here in the middle. Wasn’t that funny?” she laughed. “Wait a minute w'hile I tear it out. and then we won’t have to roll up all this mess again.” She ripped it out. “There, that’s better. Now throw all this stuff away and let’s get busy, because w'e haven’t much time left.” She looked at Florence Smith, eminent New York music teacher, late- ly returned from Italy, w’ho passed her a broom. Rose had hardly taken it when Ed- ward Vinton came rushing in with a movie camera, bumping into her and smashing the broom. “Well, folks, here I am. Better late than never,” quoth he, setting up his apparatus. “When does the shooting begin ?” “Guess the shooting begins right now, boys.” said Director Reid. “This finally turned out to be the scene where a mob of women try to mas- sacre another mob, but the meeting is finally broken up by the arrival of Bruce Cambies. Let’s go!” Katherine Bates, Ruth Lott, Mary McLaughlin, Dorothy Wedel, and Ruth Statt formed a line at the comer, so as to be invisible to anyone approach- ing from the side street. Kathryn Ihrig, the property lady, passed out an issue of rolling pins. Eddie Vinton made ready to grind. Louis Gordon, the company’s sign painter, began posting danger signals at fifty paces distance. “Camera! Skate in the wheeled dummies! Action!” called Reid. At that moment, it so happened that the VanDerhoef Trust Company, owmed and directed by Arlene VanDer- hoef, hud sent a delegation to China, which w'as just then arriving at its point of business by rounding this par- ticular corner. Hobart DaBoll, the company’s engineer, was the first to stagger clear of the melee. Bruce Cambies stepped in to break up the fight. Meanwhile Donoghue had been quietly but vigorously busy with a pencil. “There! ! said he, “that’s the big- gest header the New' York American has ha«l since I got out of high school, bp jabbers.” Irving Mix also had himself re- arranged before the others were ready. He presently bawled for his secretary. Gladys Miller promptly ap- peared. “The contracts are ready?” he asked her. “Yeah, I got them right here,” broke in Karl Naramore. “1 take no chances with a secretary. I keep them right in my coat pocket.” He turned to his secretary, Margaret Seholes. “What did you do with my coat ?” She produced it. “Are we ready for business?” asked Arlene VanDerhoef, looking them over. “We are,” said they. Arlene turned to the picture com- pany and asked for the boss. Nobody knew anything about him at all. (Continued on Page IS) 20

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1 H E W I T A N Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! Martial footsteps resounded through the little town of Chingtu. The struggle in China, begun in 1927, had continued for fifteen years, until now in 1942, a private expedi- tion, financed by two American mil- lionaires, Floris Ferguson and Frazer Punnett, had arrived to shoot up the situation. Suddenly around the corner swung Arthur Chappell and Paul Martin, im- maculately dressed, followed by a double file column of rough looking characters. El wood Bridgeman lunged along at the left of the first pair, carrying a massive piano leg with which ho was cutting down lamp posts and hydrants ruthlessly. Beside him Norman Scheer dragged along, thor- oughly disgusted with the whole busi- ness, but entirely good-natured about it. “Halt!” bellowed Captain Alofs. The sudden stop sent Gordon Snider from the rear rank to the foremost, mowing down the whole army as he came. The mud of the Chinese streets was very soft and comfortable; they all remained sitting or lying as they had landed. “Booth,” said Alofs suddenly, “I want ” “ to borrow another match, I suppose,” finished Philip Booth. “No! Take a hundred men and go off to the east and capture the town,” ordered Alofs, closing his eyes. “East?” yelled “Blisterin' Billy” Andrews, famous automobile racer. “Go west, young man, go west; Pat Henry said so!” “Hey, listen boys, don't fight.” broke in Harry Tarrant, rising, “the book here says, ‘go north’.” “What do we care? North, east, south or west, let’s at 'em! Come on!” cried Gilbert Sandholzer, seizing sev- eral men by the collars and starting. “But the book says ” began Harry. “Down with the book!” bellowed Walter Couch. “Down with it!' “Yeh; it must be wrong,” comment- ed Francis Beilis, looking vise. “Well, standing heah ain’t doin’ any good,” said Frank Waterhouse. “Why not ” Just then a procession of hooded Chinamen came down the street, bear- ing a white flag. “The town’s surrendered,” said Paul Martin with a grin. “Oh, Heck! This gun won’t work at all,” muttered Richard Post, yank- ing away at the bolt of his rifle. Rapidly the Chinamen collected themselves and drew ofl their hoods. Before them stood Albert Lathrop, the peace promoter. Behind him stood a remarkably efficient appearing secre- tary, George McLaughlin. In the group were also several missionary workers: Ruth Kramer, a nurse; Nel- lie Weeks, teacher; Gwyneth Chap- man, osteopath; Roy Clark, dentist; Mildred Farmen, minister; Hazel Duffy, cashier; Robert Belknap, under- taker. When Hazel Duffy espied Harry Tarrant, she dashed toward him. After a brief colloquy, Harry rode off on a spirited merry-go-round nag, cry- ing, “Vn dee do Vo dee you do dee yo do;” end thus disappeared forever. Albert Lathrop had just begun to recito of peace when in strode James Haste Reid. “Well, hoys,” he boomed, “that's all we want to film around here, with you 28

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THE WITAN You are so near to us just now, Charlotte, We cannot realize— Three weeks, two weeks, one week, and then, Charlotte, Then we are gone. Ten years from now we'll be but history, Mere names upon a dusty record book, Forgotten e'en by those who put them there; But will we care? 1 scarcely think we will; It is not rooms and empty halls and desks And dust beneath the lockers that we love The friendships we have made; the pals we've found; The thrill we feel when we have won a game; The satisfaction of some work well done; The deep respect and happy comradeship Of those who are our teachers; these ere what. Ten years from now we’ll fondly recollect. Some other people's friends will then be there Filling our halls and desks; some others' friends Will win our games and do the work we did; Perchance some other teachers then will fill The places our instructors used to hold. We will not rare so much—ten years away. Put now—you are so very near, Charlotte, Wc cannot realize— Three weeks, two weeks, one week, and then, Charlotte, Then we are gone. .30 Marguerite Heydweiller.