Des Moines Technical High School - Engineer Yearbook (Des Moines, IA)

Page 26 text:

Hero! Heroine! And a Blue-Eyed Siren TALL youth draped himself lazily over the locker door and watched with amused interest the articles that came flying out. I'll say this much for you, Jean, it's a miracle the Way you can get so much stuff into one locker. Sherlock Holmes, himself, couldn't find anything in this locker. I'll bet that Mary walked off with my bathing cap. A bathing suit emerged along with a rubber and a geometry book. It isn't heref' wailed the owner of a curly head. ' Oh, well, whatcha care about an old bathing cap ? drawled the locker or- nament. Care? the curly head snapped out of the locker and two brown eyes blazed up at him. Care? Well, I don't happen to have a dollar and a quarter to spend on a marcel every day. fNow you see the heroine of this story has a 31.25 curly head.l She began to tug the junk shop assortment back into the locker, aided by the languid youth. He held the rubber in his hand and gazed at her thoughtfully. Say, Jean, have you seen the bulletin board yet? No! , Just got here. What's it say? Well, the basketball team is posted ! She dropped the geometry book. Oh, Bill, and you made it? He ran his Finger nervously around the edge of the rubber. Well, Perkins thought-oh well, he put Tompkins in for forward. So you let yourself get beat again, didn't you ? Oh, Tompkins is a fine fellow. b Oh, you make me so tired, Bill Ferris, I could hit you. You try out for everything and get nothing. You're better than Tompkins, but Tompkins can fight, you can't! She stamped her foot. Look at you, six feet and hard as nails, but you can't iight. What's the matter with you? You let everybody get what you ought to have. She slammed her locker shut and turned the combination. . You're a quitter, Bill Ferris, and I hate quittersf' She started up the steps. He was puzzled, hurt. Well, I couldn't help it, Jean. You have never been able to help anything since I've known you, Bill.- If you couldn't do things. I wouldn't care, but it hurts when you can and won't. VVell, but Jean, what can -I do ? Her fingers tapped restlessly on the stair railing, then she faced him resolutely. There's only one thing you can do-make the team. If you show some signs of being alive the coach will notice you. She paused, then continued. You will have to make the team, if you ever expect to have another date with me. His face screwed up questioningly. You don't mean you won't go to the Senior dance with me if I don't make the team? - ' That's just what I do mean. But, but, Jean, I can't-- I date with no quitters, the girl said scornfully and ran up the steps. He took a step after her and stopped. The eight-thirty bell reminded him that he must hie himself to class. Women be hanged, he said, jamming his hands in his pockets. I'll show her. ' Twenty-four

Page 25 text:

ls , , I 1, ,, , Q5 ff E 5 K-rg 'Q U W H3 U il QU Q3 25 'L 'Y

Page 27 text:

. I would like to relate now that our handsome hero dashed madly to work, became the brilliant star of the Madison quintet, and won the fair Jean, but alas, our hero had more than his share of spice in him and he turned for consolation, oh woe is me, to another woman. She was a pretty little thing who sat next to Bill in geometry. He surlily worked a problem for her. She turned her big blue eyes up to his and smiled a slow, sweet smile. How wonderful you are,'l she thrilled. It was a very simple problem, but then you know The light that lies in a woman's eyes and -well, you know the rest. Bill's injured ego quickly assumed its former proportions again. She smiled at him in study hall again. Such a sweet, pathetic little smile, he thought. just as he was leaving that night he met her at the door, staggering under a perfect load of text books. He quickly relieved her and she thanked him again with her sweet little smile. Poor Bill, if he had only known how long she had waited for him with that load of books. Of course, he asked her to the Senior dance. You are all familiar with that entrancing little ditty beginning VVon't you walk into my parlor, said the spider to the Hy. Bill was dancing with his blue-eyed siren when Jean came in, accompanied by Tompkins. She nodded to him and smiled. 'A' slow, consuming rage shook him Cah, 'tis getting melodramatic, eh, what?D Unknowingly he followed the pair around the gym Hoor. - They really don't need chaperoning, Bill, the lady of the blue eyes remarked all too sweetly. He flushed, but his eyes still followed the pair. Tompkins may have won the basketball position, but he wasn't going to have his girl, too. The blue-eyed lady did not exist for him the rest of the evening. He tried to get a dance with Jean, but her program was filled. He took his baby vamp home that night, and there ended the interlude of rebellion. Fate, having first made him a thing of scorn, now favored him with dazzling success in true feminine inconsistency. Tompkins broke his ankle and Bill Ferris received the position on probation. You're showing up better, Ferris, but if you ever slump, you will be pulled out immediately, was the brusk remark of Coach Perkins. Bill had made the team, but he had pride. He wouldn't call Jean for a date, not till he had won a gameg been under fire so to speak. His opportunity ar- rived after flirting with him for so long. The Madison quintet was playing Simpson on its own floor. It was nearly time for the final whistle, only forty seconds left. The ball shot back and forth rapidly, the score was 8 to 8. Bill was fouled and a free throw gave Simpson nine points to Madison's eight. Twenty seconds left. The Simpson center lunged a ball to a man almost directly back of Bill. He snagged it, dribbled it to the center of the floor, and shot a perfect basket. It was all over but the shouting, for all but Bill. Sup- pose we listen in with Central. Jean? Say, you haven't got anything on tonight, have you ? I do have a date but- Yes? I could break it-for you. 'Tm on my way. Twenty-fifve