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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among those of the opposition saying, Methinks there is much reason in his sayings. Park Row had just spread out a red-hot edition and the news boys' howls rang high. I stepped over to a news-stand to see the latest gossip, and I was face to face with one of the biggest men in the newspaper game, Frank Conroy. Frank is owner and director of a chain of news-stands. Just then a cu.stomer came up to buy a paper. It was Dennis O'Connell, still small of stature, and now the successful lawyer for the Midget Association of America. He had won his start and fame in a suit against the city for building the sidewalks too close to the peoples' heads. Dinty told me of a dinner to be given in honor of Dick Kirby, the master mind of the universe. It had been many a day since I had seen dear old Dick, and I welcomed this opportunity of meeting him and talking over old times we had enjoyed together. But I was not to get far without interruption, for as I crossed the street on my way to the hotel I was hailed by a gentleman, Charles Passler, now famous for peaches and snakes. The snakes he kept as a hobby, but the peaches he grew were known the world over as the Georgia Peach. Charlie offered me some of the peaches as I had no desire for ,any of the snakes, but I declined telling my friend that I was on my way to crash a dinner and I didn't want to spoil the appetite that I might be able to satisfy if my crash was a success. It was as I turned to leave Charlie that two familiar forms came before me. Yes, I was right, it was Boyle and Fetherston, actors of a former day, the heroes of the stage. But what a change has come to these lights of the bright lights: they have suffered the ills of many other actors and have been sup- planted by the television. The dignity of their profession has kept them from doing such work. Lately they have been in dire want, so they have competed in even such affairs as talking marathons. This could not have been very hard. for they had had much practice in years gone by, but there is hope, ,for they tell me they have an offer from a big producer who is opposing the continuance of television. Unable to be of material assistance to the boys, I left them with words of encouragement and wishes for lots of luck in the near future. So much time had been taken up with these meetings that I had to hurry to crash the dinner. I reached the 150th floor where the dinner was being held, and finding a vacant seat I settled myself just as if I had been invited. Well, I wonder who's here. I thought, and began looking around for familiar faces. I had not far to look, for there at the head of the high table was Dick with his latest' invention, The Iron Horse. about which I had heard so much. They say it talks. it walks, and is almost human. Beside Dick was seated the toast- master of the occasion. He rises to speak, and one would think he would never finish standing up. Where have I seen that face before? Ah, yes, it is Rooney, and he begins to speak-will it be the same speech? Yes, the same fish story I recall as given in class back in 1930. My, how that fish must have grown in all these years. But then I think that Rooney had the requirement of all tellers of fish stories: he had then, as he has today. the knack of starting by telling his audience that the story was a true fish story. After the fish story we were further enter- 51