Dover High School - Tiger Yearbook (Dover, NJ)

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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

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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 lived for daily. You see Jimmy had never had any mother, and the few girls he had known were artificial and unnatural. Here was a rose, a flower which he had found too late. Day by day the fabric of Destiny grew. Then came news which the town waited for all year. The annual Rose Ball was to be held in the great hall at Roseview. It was to be a masquerade and all the townsfolk were invited. Jimmy hired a handsome Louis XIV period costume and set forth. Roseview was ablaze of lights and a babble of voices. Music issued from a rose bower at one end of the hall and dancers, resolved to its sweet strains. Priscilla’s parents welcomed all comers with grace and sincerity. Jimmy, formalities over, masked himself and set out to find Priscilla. Soon he spied her, a picture in a puffy hoop skirt, white wig and black mask. He secured five dances with alacrity, these being all she could spare because of so many other guests. Between dances with Priscilla, Jimmy stared at a figure dressed as a trapper which seemed some how familiar, yet he could not place it. This man was engaged in earnest conversation with Priscilla’s parents— and so he gave up. The hour grew late, refreshments were over and the time for the last dance approached. He was scheduled to dance it with Priscilla. Half way through he stopped and led her into the garden. Really she was the only girl and he must tell her so, even tho’ she banished him forver, “Miss Priscilla, Priscilla, the time has come when I must tell you that you are the most wonderful person that I have ever known among woman kind. “You have a heart, and so I will tell you all, then you may take me or leave me as you wish.” “Just a minute, Mr. Fosdick,” said Priscilla, her blue eyes snapping with mystery, “Did you ever hear of a young man named James Walker?” “W-h-a-t?” cried Jimmy. “He had some trouble with a car, hit a cop and ran away, I believe,” went on the unruffled Priscilla. “The police are still looking for him,” quoth she, a pause as Jimmy stood before her tense and shaken—“to tell him that the cop was only stunned.” The earth rose and fell, birds seemed to sing inside Jimmy. He turned to Priscilla, opened his mouth to speak but she held up a dainty hand and said “Come.” Into the house they went and opening a door for him she gently shoved him in. Yes, it was dear old dad, in the trapper suit. After an hour of heart to heart talking Jimmy’s dad said, “Young man if you don’t get me a daughter-in-law soon, I’ll cut you off without a cent,” and he winked broadly. “Watch me,” cried Jimmy. He found Priscilla and hurried to the garden, “As I was saying before,” he began—then—“Say, how did you know Pago 23