Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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Hallmark—means Quality. i i H. B. KURTZ lias been complately murdered an------an 1 guess perhaps—they’ve found her remains by now! An' her mother is intirelv overcame, an' Oh—h—h—h! Look!” A fancy Chinese screen had fallen down, disclosing to view the figure of Eleanor Jane, clad in snow white draperies, a filmy white veil hanging over her dark curls. She was very white and her dark blue eyes shone bri ght. “Oh! screamed Mrs. O’Brien. “Begorra, an’ 'tis the ghost of Eleanor Jane hersilf! The Saints preserve our souls!” Blindly she turned and tied, leaving Marcia and tlie “ghost” convulsed with laughter. ‘A ou must hurry home. Don’t wait to change your dress. Your mother must be badly frightened.” Picking up her filmy draperies, 1 lie “ghost” ran swiftly after Mrs. O’Brien. “I know,” thought Eleanor, “I'll take a short cut through the orchard.” Nearing the house she saw Mrs. O’Brien just entering the door. Bursting into the kitchen, she confronted the assembled company, which was hardly able to believe the evidence of its senses. Nory Jane!” cried Mrs. Perkins, rushing up to her. “Is it really you? Ain t you been murdered or kidnapped or nothing?” “'Why, no, of course not, mother.” M ell, indade, if you was my girl, I d make you give an account of yourself right here afore everybody,” declared Mrs. O’Brien. A es, agreed Mrs. Perkins, “you do that very thing. Set right there an tell us where you’ve been and where on eartli you got that riggin! My! what a start you’ve given me!” ‘AN ell, drawled Eleanor Jane, as she settled herself in a more comfortable position, “you know, mother, you left me hullin’ those strawberries when you went to the store. Well—while I was hullin’ strawberries, the phone rang. As I jumped up to answer it, my foot caught in a chair and upset it, spilling the berries all over the floor. I didn’t stop to pick ’em up because I thought it might be Wallie. But it wasn t—it was Miss Carleton, calling up to say her wedding dress had just come and she wanted me to come over and see it. So i took off my apron and went. 1 tried on her dress and Oh—h! I looked beautiful in it—all white satin an' everythin’! I’ll bet I looked just like Juliet. An' I was just goin’ to take it off when we heard someone at the door an’ Miss Carleton said I better get behind the screen because it might be the grocery boy. The screen was so wobbly that I had to hold my breath for fear it would Page Ten THE TATTLER

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hallmark—means Quality. H. B. KURTZ “You’ll excuse me just a moment, Mrs. O’Brien, while 1 take my groceries into the kitchen?” “Slmre!” Meantime Mrs. O'Brien amused herself by taking a complete inventory of the parlor furnishings. “Slmre, and I’d tho’t they’d had better curtains than them. They look better from th’ outside. An' my Bible is a great deal better’ll theirs. That chair looks like it moight be kinder—” A piercing shriek interrupted Mrs. O’Brien’s reflections. “Oh! Fur the mercy’s sake, Mrs. Perkins, an what can be the matter wid you?” cried Mrs. O'Brien. “Oh! Oh!” cried Mrs. Perkins. “Eleanor Jane has been murdered or kidnapped. And she was just saying as how she would like to be stolen and now I’m afraid she’s been murdered, too!” And Mrs Perkins fainted as gracefully as one with her surplus avoirdupois could be expected to faint. Mrs. O’Brien rushed into the dining room as fast as she could and what a sight met her eyes! A chair was overturned; strawberries were strewn all over the floor; on the wall was the imprint of a bloody hand with the word “Beware” written beneath it. A short distance away lay an apparently blood stained apron, the property oi the ill-fated Eleanor Jane. Mrs. O’Brien ran screaming from the house and, accompanied by the neighbors whom she met and accosted on the way, proceeded to tin sheriff’s house, leaving Mrs. Perkins to recover as best she might. While the excited group told the story, the sheriff buckled on his revolvers and wrote a brief note to the deputy. “Sounds like a dime novel, declared the sheriff. “Well, it ain’t sir!” cried Mrs. O’Brien, “cause 1 seen it wid my own eyes! ’ ’ “Don’t you think some one ought to tell Miss Carleton?” ventured little Mrs. Jones, nervously. “Begorra! I’ll do that now,” and off ran Mrs. O’Brien to tell the dreadful news to Miss Carleton. Miss Carleton was the village school teacher and a very intimate friend of Eleanor Jane. She was to be married soon to a wealthy New York banker and Eleanor Jane had helped plan her trousseau. “Poor Girlie!” sympathized Mrs. O’Brien. “She will take it hard. It may be afther completely spoilin’ her weddin’!” Miss Carleton lived only a short distance from the sheriff’s office with Mrs. Moore, a widow. Up the steps Mrs. O’Brien hurried, pushed past Mrs. Moore, who opened the door, and rushed up the stairs to Marcia’s room. “Oh! Miss Marcia! Miss Marcia! Little Eleanor Jane Perkins THE TATTLER Page Nine

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H. B. KURTZ Diamonds - Watches - Jewelry tip over. But, when Mrs. O’Brien rushed in and said I had been murdered, I got so exeited that I just naturally pushed the screen over. I'll bet I looked like an angel with Miss Oarleton s veil on. “Mrs. O’Brien ran out and I ran after her but when I got outside 1 decided to cut across lots through the orchard. And so here I am!” she finished somewhat breathlessly. “Yes, you’re here all right,’ agreed Mrs. Perkins, hut how did that blood get on the wall and on your apron? And that word ‘Beware,’ what does that mean?” “Why, that isn’t blood at all. If you d look at it close, you d see that it’s only squashed strawberries—I leaned up against the wall while I was talking to Miss Carleton and it left the imprint ot my hand and 1 wrote the word ‘Bewrare’ with a strawberry just to make it exciting. 1 was goin’ to pretend 1 was Lady Macbeth seein a vision. And that apron—I wiped my hands on it. “Shure, an’ if ye was my child I’d send ye straight to bed. Well I must be goin’. Sich a day as this has been, to be shure!” Discussing the latest exploit of the romantic Eleanor Jane the neighbors presently took their departure, leaving Eleanor with her mother. “Well, it was romantic anyway, wasn’t it, mother?” queried Eleanor. “I’d love to have been Lady Macbeth. “Lady Macbeth indeed,” snorted Mrs. Perkins. “Another dime novel you’ve been readin’, I s pose. But you 11 never be anyone except Eleanor Jane Perkins, mark my word, if you don’t get this nonsense out of your head.’ “Well, it was romantic. 1 think I'll write a book about it. Don’t you think allie woidd make an ideal hero, mother? “Hero, fiddlesticks! You go right up stairs and go to bed. 1 'll learn you to scare your mother to death. THE MYSTERY OF MAHMUD. A vague, gruesome air of mystery had been hovering over the little Parsee settlement of Kashmir in India for some days. The sacred jewels of Mohammed had been stolen during the night, from tho temple where Mohammed’s faithful subjects worshipped. The natives could account for it in no way. They had never deemed it necessary to place a guard over the jewels, since they believed that the god would keep them safe. Very few natives were to be seen on the streets. They remained in their homes because they feared that the god would wreak THE TATTLER Page Eleven