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Page 16 text:
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“Hallmark”—means Quality H. B. KURTZ “CHEESIT DE COP. ” It was mid-day. The street was deserted. The tenement houses on both sides arose like the walls of grim fortresses. Not even a stray dog was stirring. The “cop” was nowhere in sight and even the usual street loafer was absent. At length around the corner stalked a soldier of the realm. He was elad in the regular military uniform of tin can helmet, woodensheld, and a sword of excellent make. It was the type made by nailing one slat across another to form the hilt and the edge tempered down with a jackknife. Beside the regular equipment lie had a pair of field glasses made of tomato cans. With the aid of these he scanned the street and seemed satisfied that it was unoccupied. After glancing up and down the street several times he disappeared. A few moments later the steady tramp of soldiers in arms was heard. In due time they appeared at the aforesaid corner and turned into the aforesaid street. General Grant alias Steve Iloadley was in the lead. Ilis valiant army seemed confident in their leader for they marched with heads held high and all in all assumed a very dignified appearance. On and on they marched into the heart of the enemy’s territory. The silence was unbroken except for the Steady tramp, tramp, tramp. The stillness was like the calm that precedes the storm, and so it was. At last the storm broke. The “Rebels,” hurling themselves from doorways and alleyways charged the enemy, filling the air with their battle cry of “Down wid de Yankees!” Soon the air was filled with flying missiles, tin cans, old shoes, ink bottles and every now and then the heavy artillery would hurl a soap box or large oil can into the front ranks of the oncoming enemy. First one side and then the other seemed to have the advantage. At critical stages of the battle the opposing generals would rush up fresh troops, and so the battle waxed and waned. It is impossible to tell how long the battle would have lasted, but for the lookout stationed at a point of vantage who espied the blue coated arm of the law approaching rapidly from the rear. With the cry of “Cheesit de Cop!” he disappeared in a nearby alley. The battle stopped as if by magic and soon the former peaceful aspect returned and the “Cop” after sauntering up and down the street a few times resumed his beat. This battle, although it will long be remembered by the people of Dugan’s alley, was recorded in United States history as a victory for neither side. Paul Sheehan, ’22. Hey! Whose Tattler are you reading? Let’s go ! Let’s have some Pep! YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A JUDGE P|1n Yf WVlitn vr Cn OF VALUES; We fully protect you. 1 I1L VJL i'1 'VIlllIlLV I A). —1 4—
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Page 15 text:
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H.B.KURTZ, “Hallmark” Store, Quality Jewelry doctor says that it will not be entirely healed for about two more months, hut I think I know Dave well enough to say that lie will have his arm out of the sling as soon as possible. He’s terribly disappointed because he cannot play tomorrow, hut he is glad that you are going to take his place. lie has an awful grudge against the fellow that lit on his shoulder last Saturday and he’d like to take his spite out on someone. That’s why he wants to play this last game. Gee-zow, I’ll have to go and do some studying or I’ll not be able to play any more. So long.” “Bon jour,” answered Fred. “I’ll see you over at the field tomorrow.” Fred finished his studying, undressed, and hopped into bed for a much needed night’s rest before the game the outcome of which depended largely upon him. The next day was ideal for a game, the wind blowing a little with a sort of nip in it that was just enough to put lots of pep into the players. The regular schedule for the morning was carried out, and after a light dinner Fred went to the dressing room where he slowly donned his football duds with the rest of the fellows. At a quarter to three the team trotted out on the field for a little signal practice before the battle proper. The sidelines were crowded. The Spencer Academy had nearly as many rooters as did the home school, and all were full of enthusiasm, many howling and jumping around just to keep warm, for though it was ideal weather for the players, it was pretty chilly for those on the sidelines. In about ten minutes, both teams lined up for the battle, Spencer receiving, Euclid kicked the ball to their ten-jyard line and it was carried twenty yards by their fullback before he was downed. For the first three quarters, no progress was made by either team and it looked as though the game were going to end nothing to nothing. This meant that Spencer would be ahead because of the victory the year before. Both schools on the sidelines were nearly wild with enthusiasm and cheered and yelled as though demented. The game was nearly over. There remained only two more minutes to play. Euclid’s quarterback called a fake fullback end run and how Fred ever got around there was a mystery to every one, especially to himself. First he would dodge a man, then straight arm one, till at last he crossed the goal just as the whistle blew. Then the crowd went wild ! They picked Fred up, put him on their shoulders and carried him around the field singing “Ilail, the Conquering Hero Comes. That night was a gay night for Euclid. A big banquet Avas arranged and Fred Burton, the winner of the hardest and most important game of the season, was the most highly honored guest. Raymond Smith, '22. IF YOU ARE LOOKING for a touch rr]1p (1 T WViifriPV fo S of Newness. You’ll Always Find it at 11,c k —13—
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Page 17 text:
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H. B. KURTZ Diamonds - Watches - Jewelry THE VISION. I dreamed a dream of dreams, last night, Twas about an angel, sweet, Who came to me in the dead of night; What she said, I shall repeat. “Thou should try a little harder, To keep in the paths, aright, For thou dost know of the promised land That is filled with heavenly light.” She vanished from my bedside, then, And I was left to wonder If I should have that Heavenly love And be taken over yonder. The angel was dressed in snowy white, A golden circlet on her brow; Her voice was sweet and silvery, I can almost hear it now. It set me to thinking, greatly, Her appearing to me at night, . I wondered, I must confess, If I was doing right. And just as I fell asleep, After thinking it over well, This thought did come to me, The thought I will now tell; “He knows the cause, His ways are wise and just; Who serves the king, Must serve with perfect trust.” Florence I. Davison. DICK’S FIRST HUNDRED. Dick Crawford was an orphan boy, who lived in Philadelphia, among the slums. His father and mother, both, were taken from him at the age of ten. This took him out of school, and he had to start out in the world for himself. When the world war broke out and there was plenty of work The G. M. Whitney Co —15— WHAT YOU BUY— WE STAND BY.
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