East High School - Quill Yearbook (Des Moines, IA)

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' The Woods in A utufnm lVhcn Summer's waning days have passed, And lVintcr's drawing near, And Mother Nature's in her last Bright costume of the yearg VVhen days are warm and nights are crisp And frost is on the shocks, And lovers of the sweet nut frisk To hickory groves in fiocksg lVhen saddened ones find solace In the wood's majestic rooms, And, lured by Beauty, poets Hold communion with her forms, lvhen glowing waves of wooded hills Give lustre clllorescent, And sunny glens and hidden dales A savory essence pleasantg VVhen trees areydipped in gold and blood And draped in gowns of cheer, Go thou, my friend, into the woods, For Autumn Time is here. 110623 Etiquette VVhat is etiquette? That seems to bc the burning question for some of us, and I am sure there are a few of us who have never heard of such a thing. Mary, cast your orbs on that boy who is eating his potatoes with his knife and cramming his mouth full of bread at the same time. Imagine it! Wlhy, it's positively nauseating. lt's enough to make one wish to dive down in the soup bowl and stay under, said an exceedingly pretty girl, who, although she had the rules of ctiquette well in mind, was not above using slang. For, said she, I find it so very expressive. Page Nineteen-

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e I I -.. . K A . ' ' gl x ---M -N different toward humanity, bleak' and emptyg consequently, if a man's kind- ness excels, he is rewardcdg if a man's cruelty predominates, he is condemnedg and if a man's indifference prevails, he must be satisfied with that which he can gather from life entirely alone. GILACIG CAHPER. A The Ufije Reading makes a broadminded wife, cleaning a deserving wife, and gos- siping an unpleasant wifeg and therefore, if a wife gossips little, she will often smileq if she cleans little, she will merit no reward: and if she reads little she will be restrained in friendship through all her life. - AllDIC'Yll XVILLIBY. LIFJC-IX? BlltCZCli6SlJ'1tSf the Same You'rc the queerest little fellow, But wc're buddies just the same. Tllllllglfll the world has called you yellow' Said you never played the game, 1 5 Called you coward , called you sehemer , Put a curse upon your name, In your soul If saw the drea ner And wc're buddies ust the same. 3 Buddy dear, ther:-'s' a tear In your eyes zfglistening. Buddy dear, I am here, - For your call a'listeuing. And when the world has turned away, I'll just press your hand and say, You'rv my buddy, anyway Buddy dear of mine. 9 Once your heart was filled with sunshine. Now it's overcome with pain. But you smile and hope that sometime You can face the world again. Though no friends can life avail you, Though your tears may fall like rain, Even though your God may fail you, You're my buddy just the same. i i Buddy dear, there's a tear, In your eyes zfglistening. Buddy dear, I am here For your c-all zflistening. And when the world has turned away, I'll just press your hand and say, You'1'e my buddy anyway , Buddy 'dear of mine. V , Jom: Tuomas, f29.' I Page Eighteen

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Q ei' isis HeavensI Did you see him throw that piece of bread at the boy at the other end of the table? Why, Mary, it doesn't seem possible that anyone could be so uncouth in this supposedly civilized world, said .Peg. I feel as if my life were actually in danger while I'm sitting so near him. I really shouldn't be surprised if he throws his knife and fork next, but if he doesn't, I suppose we could forgive him for eating his pie with his spoon, said Mary, then added, Oh, I thought that girl was surely going to spill her soup on me, but, fortunately, she dropped it on the girl sitting next to me. I can't understand why some people are so awkwardf' Evidently that boy believes in the old saying, 'There's many a slip twixt the cup and the lip,' for he drank his entire glass of water in one swallow, or perhaps I should say one gulp, for surely it was more of a gulp than a swallow, said petite Peg. What is the cause of all the excitement at your end of the table, Mary? Oh, I guess the girl who had soup spilled on her, decided that revenge was indeed sweet, for she spilled some water on the other girlfs hair, and In can hear the poor child mumbling about something. Good night! Whacha got your hoofs planted out in the middle of the aisle for? Cancha hand 'em in? the Young-Man-of-the-Undeniably-Indelicate- Manners said to Marjorie as he passed her. Marj answered with the breath of winter in her tones, Clumsy, watch where you're going, and gave him a look that would have made a polar bear catch cold. - Well, now that the horrid person is gone, let's show our generosity by giving him a good wish, namely, that Santa Claus will bring him a book of etiquette next May day. CHARLOTTE FRALEY, ,2 8- QZSGXJ Slickers , Rainy days ain't what they used to be . Not that it doesu't rain just as hard as it did fifty years ago, not that it doesn't pour whenever we plan a wood- land picnic, but it does, and the answer is slickers . The blues and rainy days used to go hand in hand, but today the slickers with their brilliant colors defy the gloom of the water drenched streets and dark, chilly hallways. The shower brings cheer to the bright little flapper for it gives her a chance to display the latest and gayest in water shedders. Then there is the decorated slicker. A walking advertisement of the wearer's artistic ability or his lack of it, an open book of his favorite slang phrases, his latest affairs of the heart, or his favorite fraternity or sororty. Billy starts off to school in the morning, and mother, fondly watching his slicker covered back, learns that her son Knows his oilskins , is Open for suggestions , and that one may Phone Elm 638 and ask for William . Grandmother, when skies are threatening, decides to do a little shopping before the rain begins. Hastily pull- ing on .Iennie's yellow slicker over hor cloak, she departs for the downtown shopping district, blissfully unaware that between her dignified shoulders is the slogan, I know my onions . The glowering skies and grumbling thunder cannot deaden the spirit or sadden the colorful parade. Slickcrs! Like so many run away tulips, they go splashing cheerfully through the puddles. ' LILLIAN PACKER, '28. Page Twenty