Cleveland High School - Legend Yearbook (Portland, OR)

Page 23 text:

r H E L E D a E R [Seventeen LOOKS ARE OFTEN DECEIVING ' iRi;i i V ' i (.iii;ll S;i ' , Slim, vlipte ,i ;;i iir? itskcil Freckles of his chum. To tlu ' (ilil mine. .iniia j;() loii;;? Sure, justa miiuitc. Soon the pair were on their way to the deserted coal mine — a place thc ' IkuI no ri lit to enter. But they were just boys and in search of advcTiture, at that. On their arrival the looked carefully around to see that they weren ' t watched; then, with a hur- ried scramble, they were inside. O-o-f! firoaned Freckles. Wiio ' ve I run into? Say, j;uy, lay off! It ' s me — Fred! Oh, 1 bejj your pardon — this respectful!) ' from Freckle?. He recognized the voice of the preacher ' s son, the toufihest kid in the xillage. Whatcha doin ' in here? This question simul- taneously from both. Just lookin ' ' round. Come along, answered Fred. The three scamps wandered around for about an hour, and didn ' t realize that they were lost until they tried to find the entrance. At first, they all put up a bold front — Freckles was the first to break down, then Slim. Fred was hard-boiled for about an hour, then sudden ' y startled his com- panions by dropping on his knees and praying — something like this : Oh, God, please let me get home! I — I — Fll never be bad any more. What ' ll my mama do? O-o-o-o-o-o, hut it ' s dark — pie for supper! Ah-h-h ! I wanna go home! What ' d I cvcr-r come here fur? Oh, please show us the way out! Fll not play hookey any more. My dad ' ll pray for me, too. God !— oh ! oh! oh! 1 wanna git outa here! Help! Help Help Help! He wa; finally hys- terica! — scared stiff — so to speak. During the course of this prayer. Freckles had wandered ahead about fifty feet. A triumphant ell startled the other two into running. Their pal had discovered the exit from tlie old mine. As soon as they were safely out and used to the strong light, Fred turned on his friends with clenched fists and his noted ' ' fighting mug on. Say, you two kids keep mum, he growled. If you ever dare tell anybody I got ' soft ' in that mine, I ' ll knock the daylights outa you! ) know 1 can. Now, shut up — remember! With this speech, he thrust his hands into his pockets and went whistling down the road, fol- lowed meekh ' by the dumfounded Freckles and Slim. To the Devastators Kennktu L. Coi.i.ixs Wiiy devastate the forests, The rivers, and the sky. Of their many little citizens? Wh ' trv to make them die? They were put here for a purpose, Just the same as you and I. Harm them not, ye devastators, We ' ll be lonely if they die.

Page 22 text:

Sixlffiil THE LED (; E R THAT ROMANTIC AGE i ' .VlI. ' S N liARMHTTI.OR In till- hrrakfast room nf a smart lulunial man sion in a smart suburb of Ricliley sat Mr. Dennis, a stout, portly man of middle ajje, who was quite prominent in the business world of Richley ; Mrs. Dennis, a lar e lady of the same af:e, who tried to be very prominent in Richley ' s social affairs, and their flapper daughter, Celeste, a rather pretty jjirl of about eighteen. Well, remarked Mrs. Dennis, as she looked through the neat stack of mail that was b her platCj bere is an announcement of the enjia ement of Miss Alice Travers to Mr. Walter La Verne. As she said this she mentalK checked off Mr. La Wrne from her list of promising youn men for Celeste. Mr. Dennis merely grunted, hut Celeste turned pale, choked on a morsel of food and abrupth left the room, as her mother finished speaking. She went to her own room, where she threw her- self dow ri on the bed. It was a pretty room, fur- nished in Kay colors. A thick soft ruj; lay on the floor, and softK shaded lights were placed about the room and thin silk curtains fluttered in the breeze of that lazy Indian summer morning. Why, what ' s the matter with Celeste? asked Mrs. Dennis. Don ' t know, mumbled Mr. Dennis from the depths of his newspaper. He did not seem greatly concerned about his flapper daughter. Just then the door bell rang and the butler admitted a slen- der grey-eyed girl of about Celeste ' s age. There was a tiny hidden laugh in her wide set grey eyes, and a distinct charm about her made her a general favorite with people. Mr. Dennis ' greeting to her was warm, more so than Mrs. Dennis ' , because she recognized the girl with her beauty and charming manners as a dangerous rival for Celeste. Good morning, Jean, he said, did you just get back fr4)m the beach? We ' ve been home for about a week. If ()U should like to see Celeste you will find her in her room. After talking a bile, Jean left the breakfast room and ran up a broad flight of stairs and knocked at the door of Celeste ' s room. On receiv- ing IK) answer, she opened tile door and said, gaily, Hello, Celeste! . The still form on the bed did not move, so she crossed the room and sat down on the wide luxurious bed. Why, Celeste, child, what on earth is the matter? Still no answer, but something that sounded suspiciously like a sob shook the girl. Jean then lifted the dark, tousled, curly lie.id and s.iid in a motherly tone, Here, child, dr (iur tears and tell old Jean all about it. That w ill make you feel much better. Oil, Jean — Jean, Roger is engaged to that — horrid Alice Travers! The iiidden laugh in Jean ' s eyes now became very e ident and slie found it very hard to keep the laughter out of her voice, but she succeeded to say in a svinpathetic, gra e tone: Roger — oh, you mean — Roger La Verne, whom ()u inet down at tile beach — Mrs. Dixon ' s nephew; the one who found and carried ()u down the mountain when you sprained your ankle, and sent you flowers and candy when you were ill ; who said you swam like a mermaid and danced like a fairy. ' es, Jean — oh, I ' m heartbroken! He was aw- fully handsome. He had the keenest eyes. Oh, Jean, I siinply adored him! Everyone did. I was sure he liked me. I can ' t understand how that little empty-headed simp of an Alice Travers ever captured him! Oh! oh! this world is a dreary blank for me. There is no other man in this world for me! With this she buried her face in Jean ' s arms. Jean smiled a knowing smile, for she knew Ce- leste rather well, and knew that these outbursts were not infrequent. Vhen she could control the merry laugiiter in lier voice, she said in a very tragic tone, Ob, wliat a cruel world! Listen, Celeste, Nou ' d better get in some decent clothes, liecause Hoii and TerrN are coining up for a set of tennis. What, Jean, not Terrx Delainl, that boy whose folks moved into the great new white iiouse on the hill? All tile girls are wild about him. Hurry, Jean, iielp me get into this new sport suit. Don ' t ()u think it is becoming? Hurr . Jean, if he ' s com- ing I must look nice.

Page 24 text:

Kiffliiffti] THE LEDGER WHAT ' S IN A NAME? S t.N AN H M.I ' KRIK Ma Jones h;i(l lost lipr mind. There was no iloiiln of it. If the bah hatl been born at any other time, it would have been named juiui, or William, or any of the tiood old wornout names. Hut instead it was attached to the terrible caption, Archibald Marmaduke Jones. Pa Jones was disgusted with his better half. Imagine me — me — with a bab named Archibald Marmaduke! he groaned, as lie tried to seek an explanation for Ma Jones ' absence of brains. Oh, shut up! said Ma Jones. What are you croaking about, anywa ? I ' ll bring him up the way I want, and ()u can leave him alone! V ' es, you ' ll bring him up. I ' ve got an idea how you ' ll bring him up. Nice new Kauntleroy suit, cute little golden curls and pretty little white and pink shoes and stockings. Ugh! Get out of here, you brute. How dare you talk that way about our iddums cutcms pinky-pink toesics! Siie turned to tile baby, and started cod- dling it. Ciood-night ! More groans and Pa Jones went out on the porch and made the air blue for about five minutes. Archie, at home, was treated like a prince. But outside it was different. Archie had turned out the wa Pa Jones had predicted — a sissy — and he was treated by his schoolmates accordingly. But, of course, just as Ma Jones had taught ii. ' m, he held his nose in the air and did not conde- s end to look upon an who dared approach him. TIk- effect of . Ia Jones ' teaciiing was beginning to tell on the boy. He was becoming snobbisii. And P:i Jnncs, w iiat cnulii iu ' do? He just sat and groaned Iw ' hind iiis newspaper during tiie even- ings and listened tn Ma Jones indulge in the gentle art of inventing new pet n.imes for Archie. He had resolved not to interfere, but he was slowly be- coining disgusted «ith his wife ' s metiiod. When are you going to teach the little dear how- to make up the beds and darn m socks? he asked, sarcastically. All Ma Jones b.id to say was .Shut up! and Pa Jones shut up. It was about this time that Pa Jones ' mail began to get heavier. He received a long brown folder twice a week, and promptK retired with it to the attic, and for the next half hour Ma Jones would hear him jumping around and punching something. She didn ' t know just what it was, and Pa Jones wouldn ' t open his mouth on the subject. It isn ' t good for Archibald ' s constitution to lia e all that noise going on, she remarked at the table the first evening of the mysterious proceed- ing. Bail! replied Pa Jones and went on eating. One day wiicn Archie was about eleven years old — the stage in liis life where he was wearing a shiny, stiff collar and a big bow tie. Bill Graham happened to tease him a little more than usual. Living up to iiis mother ' s teaching, he promptly marched in and told the teacher. Coming out of school tiiat afternoon, he met Bill at tile corner and, with an ugly look on his face. Bill muttered, Here ' s w licre 1 ciiange your complexion, (iu little sissy. He grahiicd Arciiie l) the arm and puiicd iilm into an alley, wiiere lie proceeded to muss him up con:.iderably. Fifteen minutes later Archie slowl - eased iiim- self up the front steps of iiis home, and dragged into the kitchen. Ma Jones looked up, and promptly dropped her jnrn Tnd ih? pan which she was iiolding. What happened to motlier ' s little darling boy? slie cried, as she started toward iiini. Tell mother what happened. Archie told iicr as well as siie could, considering the puffed lips lie iiad lately acipiired, hi!e his motiier wasiied him .irid applied a iieefsteak to his black eye. Pa Jones came home for dinner to find his son sitting on Ma Jones ' lap, eating a piece of pie. Pa Jones was a sorrv-looking spectacle himself — his face scratclied up, iiis nose still bleeding ami his right eye swollen. Ma Jones shrieked, and cried, ' » ' ou, too! What ' s the matter?