De La Salle Institute - Torch Yearbook (New York, NY)

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lilitf' 'il'lm:li enough service for their nickle. Most of the passengers on the New York to Paris Commuters Special were obliged to stand. Johnny also advocated the use of all-steel planes in place of the present wood ones, since so many people had been hurt in the recent Times Square Crash. Felix the ofiice cat was apparently too interested in the proceedings and where they came from, for he grew more and more inquisitive. Suddenly, and without the slightest warning the machine gave a mouse-like squeal, Felix jumped, and then after a series of mixed hisses. sparks and howls there followed silence. The machine was dead, and so was Felix, who had investigated with more interest than prudence. There was nothing more to be done here, so I blew out the electric light, snatched my hat, and rushed down stairs into the glaring sunlight and into a bus headed for the ball park. I arrived at the stadium just before the beginning of the- game. Sitting beside me was a very dignified looking gentleman with red hair. His red hair easily identified him as Professor Jim Reidy. Soon we were attracted by a loud, raucous voice shouting, Programs, Programs: no one can enjoy the game without a program and a Worton's cone. What was my surprise on turning to see Joe Cosgrove. the master of ceremonies of the day. Soon after the game had begun Jim, now head of the French Department at Columbia, remarked, Quel style that catcher has. Ah 'grees wid yuh dere, was my answer. It was none other than Bob Hayes, a former catcher from D. L. S. During the third inning I noticed a spry little fellow getting up to bat. He hit the first one for a homer. He appeared to be an excellent runner from the way he tore around the bases. Referring to the score card, I was surprised to see that it was another of my old classmates, Jeff Bourke. Nothing unusual happened during the rest of the game and as soon as it was over I thought I'd go down to the dressing room and ask the manager if I might see Bob and Jeff. I entered and found Frank Dingle, the manager. While talking to Frank a salesman pushed his way through the doorway and walked over towards us. The new arrival was Steve Reidy, now salesman for the Sullivan Liniment Co. We had a great time talking about the good old days back in D. L. S. Then as it was getting late, I made my departure. When I got outside I discovered I had a flat tire. However, directly across the street was an auto repair shop. I managed to get over there without any trouble. Over the shop was a sign bearing in large electric letters Baxter id Daley, Ink. I went into the oflice of the company and found Billy and Jimmy working over their books. The job which they did on my buggy profited them nothing because it cost me not a cent. They explained loquaciously to me the theory of operation and maintenance of their left- handed monkey-wrench. I then left the two scribes laboring with tablet and stylus, hoisted my sail and continued on my voyage. Sailing along Broadway at about 40 knots per hour I was again attracted by another crowd and pulled up to find a meeting in progress. It was Bob Curley, soap-box speaker for his party. My mind went back to his beginnings in De La Salle and I found that he had greatly improved since that long for- gotten year. He was still on his favorite topic, His party in the coming elec- tions. He held his audience speechless while he spoke, and when he concluded pandemonium broke loose. When the cheers had subsided I could hear many iii X' 49

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