Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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THE TATTLER RESOLVED: TO MIND MY OWN BUSINESS. Donald Lewis. All the world seemed bright to Donald Lewis one gloomy February morning. He had invited Marjorie Clayton to go to the “All Sophomore Dance,’’ and he had just received a letter of her acceptance. It was Saturday morning and Donald was going to the skating pond. He was skating along gayly whistling a tune, when he came upon his chum, Ted Pennington, sitting upon a stone, before the fire, at the edge of the pond, in a dejected attitude. Donald skated up to him and asked, “What’s the matter Ted, old boy?” “Nothin’ ”, growled Ted. Donald perceived that something had gone wrong in Ted’s world, for good-natured Ted was very seldom seen in such a state as this. “What right have I to be so happy,” thought Donald, “when Ted is apparently so sad. Why, I’ve known Ted for fourteen years—no fifteen. Why I’ve known him all my life and he always helps me out of my difficulties. So I guess it’s up to me to do the same.” Then a brilliant idea struck Donald. “Say Ted, is it about the dance?” he inquired. Ted nodded. “Did she refuse?” he queried. Ted didn’t answer. Donald repeated his question and Ted merely replied, “Didn’t ask her yet.” Not daunted, Donald inquired. “Got stage fright, old boy?” Ted remained silent. There Donald took courage and began: “Ted Pennington, the idea that a boy on the football and basketball teams, and in everything going on at the high school should balk at the idea of asking a girl to a dance. She can’t do any more than refuse. Now come on, let me be the girl and you propose—propose asking me to the dance, I mean. All you have to say is, ‘May I have the honor of—’ ” This is all the further Donald got for Ted jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing and exclaimed, “Don Lewis, so it’s stage fright I’ve got, eh? What on earth do you think I am?” Then all of a sudden his tone changed so as to become more persuasive. “Say, Don,” he pleaded, “I’m in no end of a fix. I want to ask Betty Thurston and Allison Rodgers to the dance. Say, can a fellah take two girls ? ” Donald gasped. So it was two girls that was bothering him. “I give up, Ted,” he sadly replied. “Suit yourself,” and so saying he walked away, chuckling to himself, resolving to attend strictly to his own affairs after this. S. P. Page Five

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THE TATTLER He was sent to a cantonment in an adjoining state for his training. Studying in his spare time he made rapid progress and advanced from Private to Corporal, and then to Sergeant Major. This rank he held when he left for France. One day the mailman stopped at the door with a card telling of his safe arrival overseas and his mother going to the window kissed the service flag she had so lovingly placed there many months before. Casualty lists, first short, hut gradually lengthening in number, appeared in the paper and it was reported that her Son’s company was in a fierce fight. The next morning after reading this she received an official letter from the government which reported his death as killed in action. The white star turned to gold, and many even wondered who it represented, but all realized the life had not been given in vain. The mother, like many others who have given up their sons, was in grief for a long while, hut deep in her heart she was happy to have had a son to give. The hoy has found his rest as only a brave American can and the mother will be well taken care of by the government. „ Geo. S. MISS KAHLER'S SHOPPING TRIP. Miss Kahler on her way down town was invited by Mr. Kester who was (Miss) Manning a (Mr.) Henry to ride with him. When she was getting out of the Lizzie (Tinney) she was forced to run to (Guthrie) Dodge a (Marjorie) Grant. Making her way to the dry goods store she bought a few pairs (Maude) Brown and (Gordon) Green hose, a set of (LaQue) Fox furs and a (Gert) Black (Harold) Jackett. And at the grocery she bought a (Miss) Peck of (Francis) Sweet potatoes, some (Frank) Campbell soup, fresh (Miss) Fish and a loaf of (Arthur) Baker’s bread. That being all she could think of, she started home carrying all she could. A little (Howard) Messenger, being a (Irene) Goodfellow offered to carry her things. She handed them to him and he started home. In front of a (Mary) Poole room, a (Jeanett) Porter who was a (Arthur) Blackman, came up to her asking if she had lost anything. She investigated, and discovered she had lost her pocket-book at the (Ed) Leahy Valley Depot. She obtained the pocket-book and again started home. This time she was given a ride by a (Miss) Coleman. While going down a (Ward) Hill, the horses started to run, and the driver failed to stop them until they had reached the (Irene) Barnes. Miss Kahler, having had all the thrill she cared for, again undertook going home. And they all lived happily ever afterward. W. S. ‘21 Page Four

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TIIE TATTLER A PLEASANT SURPRISE. Yes, it was really true. Peace had been declared! And now came the joyful news that the boys were being mustered out. “Of course James will be home for Christmas,” exclaimed the happy mother as she read the letter aloud to the anxious father. Such a busy time followed. Christmas was so near at hand! Then came the dreadful message signed by the official war department. James R. Harris had been fatally wounded on the battlefield November 9, 1918. Oh! what a cruel world! It seemed that the sunshine had all been blotted out. The wreathes of holly, the evergreen, and the Christmas bells which pealed out “peace on earth, good-will to men,” seemed to mock the mother and father. Christmas found them sitting all alone overwhelmed by their sorrow. It seemed almost more than they could bear. The loved stalwart son in whom their every hope had been centered, lying in the cold grave in far off France. When he left them one short year ago he was in the best of health and spirits, and his letters had been so full of good cheer. As this dear old couple sat by the fireside and gave themselves up to sorrowful meditation, they were aroused by the sound of the front door opening, and hurried footsteps in the hall. They jumped to their feet just as a broad-shouldered, khaki-clad figure filled the doorway. “James! Thank God!” exclaimed the father. “My son! Alive and well!” breathed the mother, as they were embraced by the strong arms of the young soldier. It was indeed their son. After the first shock of joy and surprise had passed, lengthy explanations followed, and they sat until the wee sma’ hours of morning, listening to the wonderful tales of adventure and the harrowing experiences which the young man had been through. They finally concluded that the official notice which they had received, and which had turned their sunshine into darkest night, had been intended for the parents of another James Harris who lived in an adjoining county, and whom James had met first in the cantonment and later on the battlefield. With a sigh and a tear of sympathy for those other grief-stricken parents who had yet to receive such sad news, these devout people with one accord knelt in a prayer of praise and thanksgiving to One who had safely guided their boy through the maelstrom of war and brought him again to “home, sweet home.” H. S. H. ’20. THE VALUE OF LATIN. This is a big subject to be treated briefly, so that only the most conspicuous benefits will be mentioned in this article. Latin is not a dead language any more than the English in Page Six