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Page 14 text:
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THE W IT A N OF ALL THINGS! One of my grandmother’s favorite remarks is Of all things! She came to stay with us one summer and found plenty of chances to use it. The very first morning she awoke in our spare bedroom, she noticed a picture of Mary Pickford and Douglas Fair- banks over the dresser. I had placed it there myself, thinking that it brightened up the room somewhat. But grandmother had other ideas of brightening up the room, and hung a gay-colored handkerchief bag over it, murmuring, Of all things! When she came down for breakfast, I was already eating, because I was going to town early, and she, noticing that 1 had my bathrobe on, said, A young lady of your age ought to know better than to rume to the table in her bath- robe. Of all things! The next time I heard her say the fond expression was when 1 tried on my new bathing suit and ran across the street without a coat to show it to my girl friend. Several hundred, or maybe a thousand, other times I heard her use those three expressive words, and I doubt if I’ll ever forget them. But, for all the many things I did which caused grandmother to say these words, I am sure she wouldn't have had them done otherwise, for, how else could she have used her favorite expression, Of all things ? Ida Diehl, '31. CARL LYLE’S ESSAY ON BURNS In the modern arrangement of cook- ing, it is no uncommon thing that a voung lady of genius must ask for bread anci receive a pan of charcoal. Although it is known that charcoal, after persistent application, may pro- duce teeth of dazzling whiteness, nev- ertheless most people seem to prefer expensive toothpaste to the costless method of burnt bread. Strange are the ways of men! Not only is burnt bread undesir- able, but practically all kinds of bums seem to be unpopular with the masses. But since all good writers first define their terms, I will quote here from that well-known author, Noah Web- ster: A burn is a hurt, injury or ef- fect caused by burning, as by fire. Of course the burnt bread falls into the third class—the effect of burning However, that before-mentioned young lady of genius may behold all three classes demonstrated in one instant as she takes the would-be bread from the oven. The easiest thing in the world to do is to touch the hot pan with her finger, in spite of a dozen holders. That’s Case One. She be- holds the bread—Case Three. An in- jured feeling resulting in burning wrath is Case Two. The day is ruined (for ten minutes). A bum often desired, but after- wards sadly regretted, is sun-burn. The reason for such a rash desire is to attain a becoming coat of tan, but the result is frequently Case One. In all such cases use Carl Lyle's Salve—pain relieved immediately—the greatest cure for burns on the mar- ket (not for bread). Carl Lyle, Salesman. MUSE ON EGYPT But look ye—in the distance—what cometh from afar? A long caravan unrolls before our eyes, a long cara- van, seemingly endless. As it ap- proaches we notice the Egyptian maidens seated on camels; tall princes upholding the dignity of their family and race; dusky Ethiopian slaves trudging wearily in the hot sand. 12
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Page 13 text:
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THE WITAN that it was you 'at was going to God's house instead of Mommie.' Slowly the thought came into his baby brain that maybe the Little Lord would rather have Teddy than Mom- mie. The Little Lord probably didn't have such nice toys in his house up in Heaven, but he had a mother, and didn't need another one. If only he could give Him his Teddy, then Mom- mie wouldn’t go, ’cause the Little Lord could tell her all about it same as he asked her to come and visit Him. Bobby sat still and wondered. How did you get to the Lord’s house, any- way? Would it take very long? He wondered if there could possibly be a ladder leading from the roof to God's house. Maybe he could go to this house and take Teddy, and come back again before Mommie went. Then Daddy wouldn't cry any more. Yes! maybe there was a ladder. He better go and see. There was a small cupola on top of the house, but Bobby had never been there alone. There was no railing around it and he was afraid to stand therp even when Daddy held him tight- ly by one hand, and Mother by the other. Mother loved to go to the little cupola, for one could see for miles around, but she was certain that Bob- by would never go there alone, for he was afraid. Nobody ever told Bobby that there was anything to be afraid of in the darkness, so when he made up his mind to see about the ladder he never thought about the dark. He trudged up the attic stairway with Teddy tightly clasped under his arm. He groped along until he came to a room with a slanting roof. Upon reaching this room, Bobby grew frightened. He seemed to see large shapeless objects starting to- ward him, or darting away from him, and his little heart pounded and his knees shook. But bigger than the fear of what might happen to him was the thought that Mommie might go before he got to God’s house and gave Him the Teddy Bear for the Little Lord. So the child stumbled on until he found a ladder leading to the cupola on the roof. His little legs were so short that he could scarcely reach the steps, but at last he was at the top of the ladder, and with a very great effort he pushed open the trap- door, almost losing Teddy and his bal- ance in the attempt. Bobby felt the cold wind on his baby face, lie pushed Teddy up onto the roof and pulled himself up after. “Oooo! I'm ‘fraid. But I musn't be 'fraid! Mommie wouldn’t like me to be 'fraid when there's something 'portant to do. But Ooooo! the wind is blowing awful hard, said Bobby. Bobby saw that there wasn't any real ladder upon the roof, but Mommie said that sometimes the fairies made ladders out of moonbeams so that they and the Brownies could climb up and ride on the moon. But he mustn't wait for the fairies. Maybe Mommie would be gone if he did. Then the child thought of something else this adored person had told him. “If you wish for anything long enough and hard enough, it will come true.” Mommie had told him this one day when he said he wanted a nice big dog. He had wished long and hard— a whole week! Then one night if Daddy didn’t come home with Rippy! Maybe he would do that now, only he didn’t have much time, but he de- cided to wish good and hard. He stood erect, with his fat little legs apart, and stretched his arms out wide, with Teddy lying on top of them. Then he said aloud: “Little Lord, Little Lord, please take Teddy instead of Mother.” He said it over and over again. Sudden- ly something swept by him, knocked him down and took Teddy with it. A great flash of lightning went across the sky. Bobby lay frightened and still, but he decided that an angel had taken Teddy to the Little Lord, and never meant to knock him down. Down in Mother's room, she was struggling between life and death. If this spell passed over, she would live, but the Uncle Doctor was very doubt- ful as to whether it would pass over. (Continued on Page 54) 11
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Page 15 text:
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THE WITAN As this company draws near, tant- alizing odors are wafted to us on the breeze—exotic perfumes, better far than France’s most costly brands; spices of whose richness we have never dreamed; whiffs of frankincense and myrrh. Gold gleams from the robes of the Egyptian royalty; pearls and diamonds flash from their sheaths. The princes with head high and bear- ing erect, their ladies with dusky eyes and hair are as a strange fantasy to us. We have never seen a like troupe in our land. The procession has now passed us, is lost in the distance. The last bent slave with his load has disappeared. Faint exotic odors tempt us no more. From whence is this strange proces- sion come—and whither is it gone? Was it a dream, a fancy—or did it actually pass? Tessie Van Dam, 29. YE OLDE BOOK SHOP Dingy, dusty, musty, was the book shop 1 walked into one day. I looked around me and noticed a skinny little old man peering at me from behind huge eyeglasses. ‘ Good morning ' I said. The little man nodded his head and went back to what he had evidently been doing when 1 came in, arranging books on a dusty old shelf. At the side of the store was a small counter with six or seven shelves be- hind it. All around the small room were more shelves loaded with books he could find me a book by Ibsen. He said he would try, and began to rum- mage on one of the shelves. 1 watched him move quietly from shelf to shelf. He suddenly pounced on a red covered book, and with a gleam in his eye, said, “Here is a beautiful story by the author you mentioned.” I took the book carefully from him and turned inside to find the author’s name. There glaring out at me, shone the letters “By Louisa Alcott.” I looked from the name to the man and said, “But sir, this is not by Ibsen; it’s by Louisa Alcott.” The man looked at me through eyes that flashed like lightning. “Only twenty dollars,” he said, “only twenty dollars. You must take it, you must!” I couldn’t believe he was the same quiet little man of the book shop. He was a raving maniac. I slowly backed away from him and out the door. From then on I ran as I had never run before. 1 can assure you I never went to that place again. E. Raymond, ’32. NOTES OF A NEWSCARRIER Many people get enjoyment from seeing the ever changing movies. About one-twentieth of the same people get an uncertain amount of en- joyment from the greatest of moving pictures, the sky. Before the dawn, the sky is quite dark. Outlines of clouds are hard to of every description; some were travel lore, some were romance, some an- cient history. In fact, every kind of book was there. An old stove standing in the back of the store had evidently done its best to smoke up the room, for the stovepipe was coming apart in places. A stool sat beside the stove and a ladder which could be rolled around stood by the side shelves. When I had finished looking around, I turned to look again at the man who had greeted me and found him staring very impolitely at me. He then said, “Would the lady like a book?” I told him I would greatly appreciate it if see and no light is reflected to the earth. At this time of the year the eastern sky pinkens slowly in an over- spreading patch and when it seems that the sun must come up the follow- ing second, one's gaze is liable to wander. Over the lake thp sky has a yellow tint. To the east it is orange and pink. Over the city it is still grey and to the west it is quite black. One rarely looks above but the sur- prise following is well worth the ven- ture. The clouds above, no matter the size, are always tinted with the richest of pinks and lavenders just be- fore the sunrise. (Continued on Page 5 1) 13
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