Cumnock School - Chronicle Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

Page 98 text:

ALONG THE ROAD At exactly 4:15 the Rock lsland slow freight rumbled out of the Denver yards, whistled once at the D. and R. C. W. crossing and then swung slowly into the long up-grade eastward into the mountains. just inside the sixth car from the tender, Shorty Morrison lay placidly in the sunshine, absent-mindedly chewing on a piece of straw and whistling softly to himself. Occasionally, the whistling would stop and Shorty, slowly turning his head, would spit with unerring accuracy at a fat spider who was attempting to spin a web in the doorway of the car. Shorty, as is usually the case, was just the opposite of what his name im- plied. He was tall with dark hair and sharp features, with a marked intelli- gence which was unmistakenly in his boyish face, which gave evidence that not all his nineteen years had been wasted on the road, lt was almost five o'clock before Shorty slowly rose to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets and stood with legs apart, gazing wistfully out of the open doorway. A hand suddenly rested on his shoulder, Shorty turned his head slowly and eyed its owner. The man who faced him was rather short and fat with a round head. His body was deep in a pair of dirty overalls, and his head was encircled by a faded motorman's cap. This thing that came under the category of a human being was known to the world as joe, or Motor- man joe, if you felt like flattering him, he had been a motorman on the old A.T. and S.F. railroad in l92l and liked the title. The two men eyed each other for a few moments, joe spoke first: Cot a weed, Shorty? he ventured. Yeah, said Shorty and fumbled for a dirty pack in his pocket. Still smokin' dem tailor-mades, eh? asked joe, as he extracted one of the cigarettes from the proffered pack and placed it between his saggy lips. Shorty smiled at his companion and lit a cigarette for himself. You know, Shorty, continued joe, we been through a lot together in the last two weeks, chain gang in El Paso, the fight with the 'bulls' in Salt Lake, and a whole lot of things we won't be forgettin' for a long time. At first, l thought you didn't know nothin' about the road but you sure had me fooled, kid. You're a smart one when you wanta be and there's no gettin' around that. joe paused for a moment, eyed Shorty silently, and resumed. We'll be in K.C. tomorrow and that's easy pickins after ya get out of the yards. Ever been to K.C., Shorty? Yeah, said Shorty. Then you know what l'm talking about, went on joe, plenty of money 88

Page 97 text:

ODE TO THE UNSHAVEN SWAIN Of course l love you dear, you know, No matter how you dress, But sweet, it does help matters so To have you look your best. I know you think it manly, To let your beard grow long, But darling, I assure you, You're absolutely wrong! I'm sure I could adore you With a haircut and a shave, And if you had a new tie, too, Why, Hon, you'd be the rage! And if your shoes were always shined, And if your nails were clean, And if you owned a few spare dimes, You'd be a man, I mean! l'd like to make you over But l know it can't be done, So l guess l'll have to give it up And take you as you come. MARY WILEY ADVICE FOR THE LOVELORN If you love, be subtle, Men are hard to please, Keep your heart well hidden, Don't wear it on your sleeve. ' MARY WILEY

Page 99 text:

and food for everybody-that is if you know where to look for it. First, we'll hit the Manor Bakery. They're always good for a hand-out and then, we'll start workin' our way south-all the big houses, you know and nobody to bother us. They're kinda dumb in that town, when it comes to pickin up bums. Yes, sir, mused joe, kinda dumb in that town. Shorty's face broke into a slight smile at this last remark and, turning from the door, he flung himself on his blanket and closed his eyes. Late in the afternoon of the next day Shorty and joe sat with their legs dangling out of the doorway of the car and watched the outskirts of Kansas City roll slowly by. lt was not long before the train decreased its speed in preparation for passing through the passenger station on its way into the yards. Shorty and joe watched the long low station approach, around which was clustered a large group of people who were waiting for The Limited which was due in on the same track in a few minutes. About fifty yards from the station a white-haired gentleman leaned against a shiny black Packard and puffed contentedly on a large cigar. Both Shorty and joe saw him at the same time. Now, ain't dat da life? queried joe, nothing to do but puff on a cigar and ride around in a big boat. Ain't dat da life, huh, kid? Yeah, said Shorty and rose to his feet. I bet that old chipmunk ain't done a stitch of work in his life, went on joe, uwhatta ya think, kid? Yeah, said Shorty. Listen, kid, it's guys like that that puts guys like us on da bum, see? Yeah, said Shorty. He swung suddenly to the ground and started on a brisk trot towards the old man. Hey, kidl where ya going? shouted joe from the doorway. A moment later Shorty greeted the white-haired man. How are you, fath- er? l see you got my telegram. l was afraid it might not reach you. joe watched from the doorway for a minute and then, turning back into the car, he flung himself on the floor. Now ain't dat de limit? he mut- tered, an me with no 'weeds'. Bos BRACE 89