Commerce High School - Commerce Yearbook (Cleveland, OH)

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where wearing apparel was sold On the counters were displayed clothing and shoes similar to those which Skygack wore. We left the store and passed down the streets until we came to a stand where a man was selling what we thought were small clay models, but upon examining them more closely we found they were made of cheese. We bought several of these thinking to take them to our friends but alas! the temptation for a taste of cheese became so great that we ate them instead. After passing some time in Moonville, we again entered a street car and rode into the country. This country was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. Such exquisite flowers and trees were never to be seen on the earth. We picked great bouquets of Jupiter flowers, so called because they had been imported from the planet Jupiter. We walked quite a distance over the country road until we reached a small lake called the Eye Lake because it forms the Moon’s Eyes. This lake was very clear and we were told to look through it. We did so and were surprised to discover that we could see down upon the earth and all that was happening there. We were now convinced that the moon really had eyes, and no argument however strong, against this from our earth friends, could change our opinion. As we had been gone for a long time, one of my friends suggested that we go back to Moonville and get our dinner. We thereupon walked to the car, got aboard and rode back to town. We inquired for a good restaurant and were directed to a queer looking building facing the main business street. The food served here was very good with the exception of the soup which was so thin that we all agreed that the name Atmosphere Soup was certainly appropriate. In the afternoon wc went to what we thought was a foot ball game but upon arriving at the grounds we saw that the players were kicking a head cheese instead of a foot ball. These head cheeses as you may imagine did not last very long and a supply of them was kept at one side of the field so that a fresh one could be easily gotten when it was needed. The game was an exciting one, the score at the end of the first half being 6 to 6. There was no time limit after the first half, the game being called off as soon as the supply of head cheeses was exhausted. The final score was 10 to 8, favor Case School or, in English, Cheese School. While we were enjoying ourselves at the game several of the more curious moon people had been investigating our ether ship and by some false move had started it toward the earth. When we looked for our ship we found it was gone and as we were to go home that night we were greatly distressed. Finally Skygack told us that every evening an old woman on a broom came to sweep the cobwebs from the sky. Skygack had often ridden down to the earth with her and she would probably take us if he asked her. We saw her ride by and Skygack asked her to take us down to the earth, and, seeing we were his friends, she agreed, and we rode home in a unique but safe manner. IRENE GUENTZLER, 1912. 96

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2In Jmaginarp 2Erip to tfje ifloon ONE clear, cold night in the year 2000 some friends and myself started for a trip to the moon. We sailed in an airship until we reached the end of the atmosphere, then we resorted to our ethership, which sails through ether just as an airship sails through the air. We carried tanks of liquid air sufficient for breathing purposes. Oh what wonderful sights we saw. Knowing that we had taken paper with us, one of my friends said to me, “Let’s make notes of everything interesting we sec.” I agreed, but alas! we had forgotten both pen and ink. What were we to do? Suddenly we noticed a large bird fly by. “Try to get one of its feathers,” I said, “that will make an excellent pen.” After much scrambling, during which the ethership was in danger of being upset, we finally succeeded in securing two large feathers. Now what were we to do for ink? I had often read stories of people who signed their names in blood. Why couldn’t I? That would make the story of the trip more adventuresome and exciting I proceeded to prick my finger with the point of my pen and wrote my notes with blood. As we sailed on we saw our old friend Skygack from Mars taking notes in his note book. He invited us to Mars, but as we were in a hurry to reach the moon, we declined the invitation. Skygack therefore sent a wireless message to Moongack telling him to be prepared to receive us. Then he asked to join our party. We agreed and he entered our ethership and sailed with us. We asked Skygack what he thought of the earth people. He said he did not wish to offend us but that he thought they were a very peculiar and noisy class of people. He showed us his note book and oh! what queer looking characters it contained. They certainly looked as if they might be more difficult to read than any of our shorthand characters. Upon reaching our destination we were met by all the moon people headed by their king. They showed great pleasure at meeting us and were anxious to hear news from the earth. We could not speak their language, however, so had asked Mr. Skygack to act as interpreter. As we were very hungry the king invited us to his palace for breakfast and such a breakfast as it was, fresh honey and moon berries! We were surprised that none of the celebrated green cheese appeared on the table. We asked the people whether they ate much of this famous cheese but were laughed at by them for that is what their planet is made of and we could not very well deprive these people of a home by eating their planet. After breakfast we took a street car ride to Moonville, the great business center of the Moon. Much to our surprise the car was no pay-enter, neither was it crowded. Even at this early hour the streets of Moonville were crowded with people hurrying to and fro. The shops were already open for business and we entered one of them just to gratify our curiosity. It happened to be a store 95

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Sunrise EARLY one fine morning, I was awakened by the twittering and chirping of birds in the apple trees near my windows. I dressed hurriedly, for I intended to take my dog, Jack, for a nice long walk before breakfast but I heard such a sudden commotion outside, that I looked out to see what was the matter. Eight noisy robins were trying to get possession of a poor little worm, but soon got tired of quarreling and each went to find food for himself. It was very interesting to watch them but when I looked up toward the east I forgot everything else, for I was looking upon one of the prettiest sights that I have ever seen. The eastern sky was full of beautiful clouds. Two large ones, in crimson and gold, were directly opposite me, and were unbounded by a multitude of small, gray ones. I thought they resembled two mountains and the sheep which graze in the valleys near them. The sun was just peeping up behind the mountains, and as I watched it ascend higher and higher, I thought how like our lives was the scene presented. We were once like the sheep, playing and enjoying ourselves. Then as we worked harder and became stronger, we became like small mountains, each trying to occupy a place, distinct from the rest. Then as we become more powerful, and gain in strength and wisdom, we, like the sun, are striving to reach our zeniths. Let us try to reach the highest point we can, for, as Lowell says, “Not failure but low aim is crime.” EMMA APPLEBY, 1912. “©len tarns ®rabeparb” IN the southeastern part of Ireland, in the valley of the river Slaney, lies the quaint little village of Glen Carrig. On the slope of an adjoining hill stands Glen Carrig House, the imposing residence of Colonel French. This house in early days had served as an abbey or monastery, but the members of the French family, into whose hands it had fallen, had eventually turned it into a fine dwelling place. An atmosphere half of awe and dread and half of romance mingled with superstition still slung to the house, and this was increased by the proximity of an old, ruined church which still adjoined the abbey-dwelling. About fifteen years prior to the time of our story, a man named James Lennon, while passing through the graveyard, had been murdered. His body was left under the old ivy-covered wall, where it was later discovered by a workman. The people of the neighborhood wisely nodded their heads over reports that Lennon’s ghost was often seen prowling around the old church ruins in the dim twilight. The graveyard, the old church and the ivy-covered wall, in the dim light of evening, makes one, even today, shudder and fear, 97