Dover High School - Tiger Yearbook (Dover, NJ)

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THE TIGER on the lonely country road, and with one plunge he cleared a low stone wall and started across a lonely stretch of fields, keeping near every small clump of bushes. For a half mile Jimmy traveled so, in the depths of a black despair, his brain half dazed, his senses alert to every foreign sound. Then there came a distant rumble and the shriek of a far-off whistle and Jimmy knew that a railroad was near-by. Now was his chance, he must fly, he the criminal must leave the scene of his crime and quickly. From a small hill he observed a tank and knew that the train would stop at it for water. He scurried down the hill and flattened himself behind a bush, awaiting developments. Soon a slow freight lumbered into view and came to a grinding stop before the tank. With a swift movement Jimmy made for a car, and settled his unaccustomed form......on the breakers! With a few groans and one or two yanks the train of destiny in the guise of a puffing freight pulled out with Jimmy, the fugitive, on board-er-that is, under board. Poor Jimmy, the first mile nearly killed him, a thousand cinders flew in his eyes, his face and clothes grew grimy and every bone in him screeched for mercy at each succeeding bump. Still Jimmy hung on for the simple reason that he must. The further away he went the better. The train rolled on and on far into the night with our hero suffering tortures unknown. But there is an ending to all things, good and bad and so at four o’clock in the morning the train stopped for more water and Jimmy roiled off into the brush until it passed on. Dawn was just beginning to break and sundry birds were cheeping. Jimmy staggered along for a few hundred feet forward and slept as one drugged. He awoke at about eleven o’clock and lying there looking up at the beautiful blue of the sky he started to plan a course of action. A few minutes later he began walking and kept on until he came to a brook. He then fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to scrub the grime from his face with it. Next he brushed and thumped his clothes and flattered his curls into a semblance of smoothness, after which he set off again. He passed a few farm houses which continued to grow closer together the longer he walked. Finally Jimmy came to the heart of a medium sized town. The moment he saw it he loved it. Everything looked so homely, and yet business like too. With what money he had left, Jimmy purchased a hat and some breakfast, and then with his money giving out he knew he must go to work. Work! He would have enjoyed this mad experience, if only that cop had not—oh he must forget or go mad. It was seeing the Post Office first that gave him the idea. That night he secured a room from a sweet and frail old widow and learned from Page 21

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THE TIGER will come from our reading if we do this. We would not wish to make a friend of everyone we meet in daily life. Our books should be selected with as much care as our friends for books are friends. At the present time, one of the greatest enemies to be met with is the circulation of books which are as wolves in sheep’s clothing-and are the messenger of evil from cover to cover. Each person should be guided in a course of reading which would be most profitable to him. It has been said that it is of great importance to acquire the art not to read every book that is popular with the masses. One writer has said, “He who writes for fools finds an enormous audience.” If we read well the standard books, books which have stood the test of time, we will not care a great deal for the “popular seller.” The man of one book, who has learned a lesson of life from this book, is better equipped in knowledge than the man whose book shelves are filled with fashionable literature, books bound with gilt letters whose pages have not even been cut. John Ruskin, the English writer says: “A common book will often give you much amusement but it is only a noble book which will give you dear friends.” ......................D. Lariviere. Threads of Destiny Bang! crash! Silence.............James Courtney Walker, only son and child of Rutherford Bayne Walker, steel King, stirred and opened his eyes. Hm! what a queer scene-trees, fields, sky, and cattle in pastures, all were whirling in a circle at a great rate. “Ah! it was getting clearer now, oh yes, that brown and white cow was in a pasture on the hill over there, instead of up in the sky— well...........“Wow!” with a jump Jimmy came to. He was in for it now. This was the third car he had wrecked since he finished college and the pater had warned him that if he got into any more trouble speeding he would cut him off without a cent.....The pater was a good sport by....Say where did that bang- ed-up motorcycle come from?—now he remembered, that blinking cop had chased him and he had collided with him at the corner, all cops were like that, dumb and....Great Scott! ! ! with a cry of terror Jimmy leaped from the wreckage of what was once his racer and ran stumbling to a prostrate figure, ten feet from the motorcycle ........not once did it stir; the world turned black, Jimmy’s heart froze with terror......He was a bad disobedient boy, he was (in a harsh choked voice he whispered it)......a murderer! He had killed the fly cop! Oh! he hadn’t meant it, he hadn’t meant it. Quick, he must fly.....the police would know, would come, he, James Courtney Walker would be sent to the chair. Jimmy gave a wild glance around, no one was l’age 20

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THE TIGER her the layout of the town. Thus it came about that Jimmy under the name of Robert Fosdick took up life in a country town and Destiny was still weaving. On the morning that Jimmy donned his nice blue suit he began to feel for the first time in his young life that he was living, that here was something vital that he had missed. He set off down the street, a swinging handsome figure, whistling merrily to himself, his blue eyes twinkling with content. For two hours he dropped letters in boxes, blew his whistle, and conjoled numerous and omnious dogs into good humor, then he turned to his bag. A paper for Miss Priscilla Thurston, hm, cute name—Roseview Place, West Heights. He looked into his bag once more, ten letters and seven cards for the young lady. My! A little boy gave him the direction and with the last of his mail Jimmy set off at top speed. He followed a pretty lane for a quarter of a mile and then he saw what might have been the turrets of a feudal castle in the distance. As he neared the estate he saw a magnificent ivy clad building surrounded by a high iron fence. He was at the back of the place and he entered through a gate evidently used by breadwinners like himself. Jimmy was now in a neat and well kept garden, filled with tall bushes in bloom, and twists and turns in general. Whistling gaily to himself Jimmy swung around another bush and stopped dead. On a marble bench sat a girl, the most amazing one he had ever seen. She wore some sort of sky blue fluffy thing that was the exact shade of her eyes. Her hair fell over her shoulders in billows and it was—red. Not the red that hurts your eyes, but Titian and god blended. She wore blue stockings and her trim little feet were encased in patent leathers. Beside her in contrast to her glowing face sat a homely, wiggley bull pup. “Good morning,” chirped the young lady, “have you some mail for me? “I crave your pardon,” said Jimmy, hat in hand, “I didn’t know this I— er thought—” “Excuse my hair,” she said, “I just had a shampoo and this sunlight was so beautiful I came out here to dry it. Sit down won’t you? This was always Mr. Peabody’s last stop and I used to chat with him every morning.” Jimmy astounded beyond words that this rich young woman should be so democratic, so lacking in snobbishness, was more than he could grasp, but he sat down. “Here is a card from a friend of mine from France, I love France don’t you?” “It certainly is beautiful,” quoth Jimmy' with much enthusiasm. “You have been there?” she queried quickly. “Oh, you see, why er—that is I see the pictures on the cards I deliver,” gulped Jimmy, almost biting his tongue for betraying his identity. Thus began an acquaintance which Jimmy Page 22