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Page 32 text:
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THE WHAN Static The expenditures of this county dur- ing: his administration, ladies and gen- tlemen, were $85,000, $14,000 more than—then mix two eggs with one and one-half cups of milk and add sugar— the next number by Handsome Harry’s Halfwits will be the “Funeral Parlor Blues ' followed by—Mr. Allegretto Strangulosa will now sing, “When It’s Midnight in Germany. It's Wednesday Over Here. —Amalgamated Dug Bis- cuit, 49%, Gypsum and Steele Copper 87%. Kendrick’s Horseradish—squack, —then, ladies, after you have hung the curtains,—blah, blah,—stir well and let boil for 20 minutes,—poo-poo-pa-doop- squack,—at the sound of the gung. it will be exactly 4:61 o'clock, Eastern - Central-Daylight-saving Standard time by the courtesy of the Spring-less watch company.—Squack— I turned the dial back to 0, shut olf the radio, and went to bed. “Awah” “Proceed, Kingfish. Coining as this did from a person of irreproachable grammar who never stooped to the use of slang, we were not only surprised hut we were made more certain than ever before of the ability to worm their doings and idio- syncrasies of speech into the hearts of the American people of those eminent comedians—Amos and Andy. A mo- ment after, our friend said with all seriousness “Ah’s regusted. We have heard many funny fellow's. Their sayings have stayed in our minds for many days and we have often burst out laughing at the thought of their amusing faces and side-splitting antics. But did anyone ever hear of a comedian or pair of comedians who have set the whole nation to repeating their odd pronunciation or abandoning all else to sit silently beside the radio for 15 min- utes nightly? (It is surprising to think that more people have not been slaught- ered in cold blood for disturbing the air of sacredness around the speaker between 7:00 and 7:15) Business men consider a radio on the front of their building to broadcast Amos and Andy a valuable asset, and it is said that business has increased many hundred percent for the Pepso- dent Co. since the advent of these clever black-face artists. Personally, we would give an awful lot to be either Mr. Correll or Mr. Gosdcn. Misery Have you ever been so dumb as to be haven’t, don’t get that way. and if you have, I feel sorry for you. The worst part of it is fulfilling your assignment. As you sit there, with the rest of the unfortunate ones, you hear joyful voices outside the “prison walls. You hear the clang of baseball spikes on the pavement and the cheering of your classmates, who are competing in an inter-class ball game, which you could be taking part in, had you the brains, or shall I say had you studied After sitting in the “misery room oi an extra period, which seems about fiv extra ones, you are finally let loose By this time the inter-class game and matches are about over and you are left alone, like a prisoner who ha. just been released from prison. If True did per- mit you to play you would probably be ruled out of the game, because of elig- ibility rules. You are not able to take part in any inter-sehola tic or school affairs and are looked upon as the “low- er class students. And now, at the close, I swear that if I do ever get off this misery period, I w’ill never get back on it again, as long as 1 live. One Who Lives in Misery. Sense and Nonsense Sergeant Killip had his eye on a black car which for the last four months had been breaking all speed records this side of Charlotte High School. It seems that the Sergeant’s day had at last arrived. “There’s that black roadster and it’s the last time I’ll sit here on this new cycle and watch him pass.” Well folks, the race was soon on, up Lake Avenue and the Copper’s new cycle was doing its best. “Pull over, there, you; what is your hurry this time, buddy? Pete Ahrns threw back his head of nicely brushed hair and showed that winning smile, greeting the officer: “I am on my way to get a working permit before the close of school, of- ficer. “Well, why didn’t you say so? Then get started before the rest of Char- lotte’s boys get up there ahead of you. ’Bye, and good-luck, son.” Charles C. Newland, 9A. 30
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Page 31 text:
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TUE WITAN The Lake The cold winter had ended at last, the slushy snow had been washed away by the recent rain storm and naw was the time to see the lake at its best. As I approached I could see a great line in the distance where the sky and the water seemed to meet. The day was rather windy and the whitecaps came rolling in, and broke on the shore with a thundering sound. Every now and then, it brought with it a dead fish or a piece of drift wood, thus adding to the little pile along the shore. As I stood watching the lake, dark- ness crept over the land and the moon came out to add her beauty to the water. One beautiful ray fell over the water and the rest of the lake was in darkness. The silence was broken only by the continual swish of the waves on the shore. Ella Rea(ron, '33. Traveling Alone One afternoon 1 didn’t know what to do so I went out for a walk. I ended up at my cousin's house After having eaten my supper and played cards until about eleven o'clock. 1 finally decided to start for home. My cousin asked me to stay all night, hut I decided to It was pitch dark outside when I started on my journey. About a quar- ter of a mile from my cousin’s house I came to a graveyard. If 1 went through it, my journey would be about a mile, whereas if I went by the road it would be almost three miles. So, trying to tell myself I wasn't afraid, I decided to go through the graveyard. I walked through the gateway — it creaked so loud that I thought if there were such things as ghosts, it would awake them all. I walked between the many head- stones until 1 heard a moaning sound. Trying to tell myself it was only my imagination, I walked on, while the noise grew louder and louder. I looked up and what should I see but a white thing in the path ahead of me. My heart beat like a trip hammer. The wind started to blow and the pine tree above me whined and howled. But what was the white thing? It must be a ghost. It moved. Upon seeing me it jumped up and seemed to fly through the air, close to the ground. All I could see was a white streak, going like the wind. Still telling myself it was my imagination, I walked on. Finally 1 reached the place where the thing had been. I felt the ground; it was warm. 1 began to run hut it seemed I couldn't run fast enough. Crash! Bang! Oh! what was that? A big lump came in my throat and I couldn't swallow. I looked all around me but no ghost could I see. My legs felt better and I hurried on. I was nearing the gate on the opposite side when the white thing again appeared. It was lying in the gateway of the graveyard, guarding it, I thought. My head seemed to get bigger and bigger and began to ache. The thing saw me and began to run. It ran through the graveyard and around be- hind me. I dashed through the gate- way and slammed the gate so the white thing couldn’t get out. I ran along the road beside the grave- yard. There was a box outside the wall. What was it? Oh! it’s a rough box, I concluded. As 1 came nearer and passed it, I looked over my shoulder and the lid of the box was suddenly raised. “Hey! what time is it, buddy?” I heard a sleepy voice call. I ran as fast as I could without stopping to answer whomever called. Finally I reached home. The doors were all locked but I found my key in my pocket and went in. 1 went to bed and dreamed of ghosts the whole night long. The next morning 1 was told that someone had locked the neighbor’s white mule in the graveyard, and many tomb- stones were overturned and broken. Also, a tramp had been found sleeping in a rough box outside the graveyard gate! Arthur Hogan, 33.
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Page 33 text:
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THE W1TAN Building a Nest It is very interesting to observe the birds. By doing this you learn their habits and other things about them. To watch a bird in the process of ! u Iding a nest is most interesting. In our yard are three wren houses and two wren mates. The female wren went in one house and inspected it. It seemed all right, so she called her mate and to- gether they collected the foundation material which consisted of small twigs. Then they brought small bits of dried grass, pieces of string, bits of paper and other nest-building materials. Aft- er the nest was almost done the wren discovered one of the other houses. She seemed to like it better than the one that the nest was in, so the mate was again called and the operation was re- newed. This new house was discarded in the same way as the first one. The third house was looked over and the nest built in it. Then two or three small eggs were laid in it. The male was kept busy keeping away the spar- rows which w ere too much interested in the mother wren and eggs. In spite of his small size (for the wren is a very small bird) he sailed into the sparrows and drove them away. Finally the eggs hatched and the parent birds were kept busy bringing food to the children who could never be filled up. A week or so later, the baby wrens came out on the perch and looked around at the world. In a few days they tried their first flight; from then on they grew steadily in strength but not much in size. Each day they flew farther unt'l one day they went to seek mates for themselves. Robert Hoppe. '33. Poor Dear “Absence makes the heart grow’ fon- der, ’ they say. And it is true, especial- ly in the case of Katherine Trayhern and her hero Richard Halliburton. Al- though it has been many months since she has seen or heard of her champion, he is still as dear to her as ever. Noth- ing can fill that little corner of her heart, despite the cruel lapse of time. She meets obstacles, has fights with many anti-Halliburtons, but carries on with colors flying. She knows the “Royal Road to Romance” by heart and is reading “New Worlds To Con- quer” for the sixth time. Poor dear, if you see a tired looking girl walking down the hall some day whispering “My beloved, my beloved,” Lindy? Lookit what’s coming in the window. 1 ;e's coming fast and furious. Now’ he’s going up. Ow! He missed the light by so little it wasn’t even funny. He keeps on going though, none the worse for his experience. Now he swoops down like a bird after its prey and comes about an inch from a girl’s nose but she keeps on writing without look- ing up. He must have thought her nose was a landing field. Well he didn’t get any publicity out of that so what does he do but stand still, perfectly still, in nidair.-apparently looking around for more excitement. “Hey! Look out there!” Gee he nearly got caught by a boy’s arm swinging out to catch him but i saved him. Maybe it wasn’t the words but the wind that moved him on. but anyway he’s still living. Gee, but he surely likes excitement. No sooner than he escapes the boy, he gets real brave and starts up at a great rate, straight for the teacher. He doesn’t miss her either. In fact he lands in her hair but 1 can still see him. He evidently doesn’t like it there though, for again he starts out to see the world. (He’s not in the Navy either) He’s loose now and again on his adventur- ous journey through the air. But he’s not safe yet by any means. No, his travels aren’t ended, but if he doesn’t look out for the teacher, who is walk- ing right on his heels, they will be soon. Luckily he doesn't choose to stay at that dangerous altitude for he swift- ly ascends into the wide open spaces where the teacher, kids, or fly paper won’t be able to do him injustice. But due to his nature he can't stay up there long, where there is no excitement, so he carelessly descends again to the land of adventure and seeks some thrill greater than before. He comes about a foot above a desk and his flight stops. Two huge mitts come up, one on each side and slowly close in on him. The poor helpless creature can’t move now and those huge hands are still coming, when “Slap!” they hit with a crack and the owner looks around to find his kill. But nothing is to be seen either, be- cause he hit so hard he can’t find the pieces, or the victim departed in such a hurry he couldn’t see him. Well, anyway, it wasn’t a very serious loss because it was only another stray dan- delion seed. james Walter», '33. you will know Katherine has seen Dickey’s picture, or read another of his books, or some similar tragedy. 31
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