Eastern High School - Echo Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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STICK- TUCK EVELYN HOWELL '30 PART III ETTY LoU was returning to college. As she looked over the many farewell pres- ents given her by her friends, an ex- quisite ivory and gold and rose-bud clock caught her eye. It was the gift of one of the many suitors whom she had kept waiting on various occasions. She took the clock but the hint passed entirely over her pretty blond head. College! Betty Lou loved it. She was only a Junior, and yet she was acclaimed by all as the prettiest and most popular girl on the campus. She was glad to go back. It meant more dates, more candy, more excitement, and more happiness. She wondered how many conquests she would make this year. Still wondering, she boarded the train for Richton, Virginia. When she arrived at her destination five hours later, she was met by an army of broken-down flivers, and cries of, I-Iey, Betty Lou, I got here first! C'mon with me, and I say, you prom- ised to grace my honorable heap of junk. Will'st thou? Betty's discerning eye picked out a hand- some roadster. No antique wrecks for her first entrance! She was triumphantly carried off in the new Chrysler amid the moans and cries of the unsuccessful would-be chauffeurs. The young man whose car she graced was a Junior named Durpan. The youngster with him, whose name was Reginalde Smythe, was an ignoble freshman. Unfortunately, Betty Lou was un- aware of Mr. Smythe's status, so she treated him like any other human being. In consequence, the poor freshman immediately lost his heart to Betty Lou. Unhappy youth! Betty Lou was the first girl to treat him like anything but a gila monster since his arrival. He positively ached to write a sonnet to her beauty and graciousness. Poor Reginalde! Durpan deposited his passenger at Rainey Hall, As he was saying good-bye, he said to Betty Lou, Pray for me, will you? That thing in my car is a freshman, and I'm his adviser. O, Allah ! He may have said more, but Betty Lou failed to hear him. At the word freshman her au- ..I ir- ll u 4u v '7 ri, ' I B' W2 si F' , YA, l +L ' :A . ,, , V we . Gvsxg N, Q 5.5 5 EMM 1 - all-.1 :Lv r Page 15 ditory organs ceased to function and her heart froze. She, Betty Lou, had lowered herself by talking to a froshl She should have known he was a freshman by that scared look and the too- new clothes. She determined to look before leap- ing into conversation with any males hereafter. Her face set into a stony mask. ' Reginalde Smythe, made oblivious of his de- ficiencies by the goddess' conversation, gazed upon her spell-bound. If he had been anything but a freshman, that frozen face would have warned him. The trouble was, he was a freshman. There- fore the look meant nothing to him. He said his farewells and when Betty Lou failed to an- swer, he thought she had not heard him. As a matter of fact, her ears were still paralyzed, but she would not have answered anyway. Reginalde went home in high spirits and still determined to write a sonnet to his new-found love. He got as far as, Betty Lou, How I love you! Your eyes so blue- and stopped. It had a reminiscent sound, and anyway he couldn't think of anything but glue to rhyme with blue . He pondered. How was he to get in Betty's graces? He had it! Betty Lou was from the South. Somewhere or other, he had heard that Southern cavaliers were in the habit of serenading their lady-loves. He would pour forth his soul to Betty Lou, aided and abetted by his trusty Nuke. Mr. Smythe pos- sessed a voice, a magnificent voice. In high school days cheer leaders sought him out. The Glee Club ignored him. A week passed. Betty Lou was firmly estab- lished in he! new room and the little ivory and gold and rose-bud clock was just as firmly en- sconced on the table by the window. The clock seemed to be trying its best to keep up with its mistress, who flew in and fiew out again without pause all day and every day. The rapid tic-tic tic-tic-tic of the hurrying little timepiece some- how reminded one of the pace of its owner. She scarcely ever slept. She was in again, out again. before her roommate had time to say Hello, much less Good-bye. In the meantime, Reginalde Smythe had gath- ered material and practiced quietly on his uke

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THE EASTERN ECHO dressed. But for her Vernon would have won. Miss Oliver's room. She was not crying now. Now they wouldn't win the championship. Still- Oh no! She was happy because Miss Oliver had Kathie, Miss Oliver wants to see you when told her that she had proved her worth to Ver- you're dressed, a sympathetic voice announced. non. She had helped Vernon to lose fairly. Yes, Fifteen minutes later Kathryn came out of that was better than to have won falsely. I I wandered on a lonely road And inet a gypsy lad In ragged blouse and scarlet sash And yellow jerkin clad. II And so I asked, Don't you get Of wandering on the down, And don't you ever find yourself A-longing for the town? III He sniiled at nie, a dusky sinile, And shook his curly head, No, no, we sons of Roinany To this were born and bred. --o-o-o-- A Romany Lad Lois ANKEWITZ '30 tired V IV We love the wind against our cheeks, The rain upon our hair, VV e love the suininer starlit sky, The biting winter air. V We love each tree, each blade of grass, Each singing brook that gleanis And, bubbling over hidden rocks, Reflects the sun's bright beams. VI We love the hills in surnrner green, Each nook and fragrant dell, And so, within a town, we'd be Within a prison cell. He smiled at nie, a dusky sinile, And huinined a pagan lay, And while I watched hiin wistfully, He trudged upon his way. Page I 4

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THE EASTERN ECHO for seven days and seven nights. On this mo- mentous night, he was to do his big act for Betty Lou. By various and sundry means, Reginalde had learned the number of Bettyls room and where he could best serenade her. He knew just when she would be home. Luckily for him, she would be in by twelve o'clock on this night, and he could raise his mighty voice in praise of her charms. All was ready. He had learned his pieces and tuned his uke, and now all he had to do was to wait for Old Sol to sink and Lady Luna to come up. At 12:30, he planned to be- gin. Only ten hours, or Cas he had figured it outj th-irty-six thousand seconds in which to wait. bk Pk lk lk lk lk At 12:28 the dormitories were enveloped in si- lence and darkness. At 12:30 a cacophonous ar- ray of weird sounds made the welkin ring. The startled house-mother of Rainey Hall sat up straight in bed. Good gracious, what is that P she cried as an ear-splitting yowl rent the air. A sleepy sophomore in room 203 listened a mo- ment and turned over wearily muttering some- thing about those blamed cats.', Squares of light appeared in darkened windows and heads in turn appeared in these. Mr. Smythe was warming up to his work. He whanged the uke frantically, meanwhile broad- casting to Betty Lou and the rest of the college that if she loved him, the world was his. His serenade was supplemented by a chorus of in- dignant shrieks: Call up the S. P. C. Af' Hire a hall! Tell it to the Marines! Shut up l Doctor, the ether! Who stepped on the cat? Young Mr. Smythe warbled on, unaware of his audience. As his voice reached its crescendo, the height of indignation was also reached. He yo- deled on: I lo-ove yoo tru-HU-ly! A respectable iron-grey head poked itself out of the window of the matron's room, and a com- manding voice ordered, Young man, stop that outrageous noise and go home at once ! But the undaunted Mr. Smythe refused to move. He cheerfully proceeded to inform the countryside that a son of the desert was he. His listeners might have been exhausted, but his rep- ertoire was not. Betty Lou thought it all too much. The sere- nade in itself was bad enough, but the thought of facing the college and the avalanche of teasing and sly jokes certain to follow was not to be borne. She waved her arms and shrieked unin- telligibly at Mr. Smythe, who warbled back sweetly and imploringly, Open thy lattice, love ! Shut your mouthfl she roared, and looked wildly around for some small article to hurl at the devoted swain. Again the little ivory and gold and rose-bud clock caught her eye. There was a swish as the clock flew through the air. There was a crash as it caught the uke head-on. With a final wail of anguish, Mr. Smythe fled, peals of derisive laughter sounding in his ears. The uke lay side by side with the clock, which was still ticking hurriedly. Dklkfklklklk Early next morning the negro janitor found the clock exactly where it had fallen. He picked it up, mentally resolving to give it to his gal whatys goin' to Bal'moah wid dat white lady. And so the ivory and gold and rose-bud clock went to Baltimore with its colored owner, who later sold it for money with which to buy a purple silk dress. She sold it to an old man named Simms, who so resembled a mummy that no one really thought of him as being human. lk Pk Pk Sk lk lk Ezekiel William Simms yawned widely and slowly opened his eyes. So that was the Way of it, eh? The old dealer rose from his chair in the back of the shop and shuffled over towards the shelf. VVell, ye three trusties, I jolly well near jedged ye rightly. You, Sir Wellington, I named ye for the hero that ye were. And you, Lady Gerf aldine, I knew by your pretty face that ye once lived in a lady's dainty boudoirfl Then he turned to Kaiser Bill with a fond glance, and addressed it thus: Ye old, mournful clock, ye! Why didnlt ye let me know? Well, old chap, I named ye wrong, but ye deserve what I'1n giving ye. Your name's Pershing now. And with gentle, reverent hands, the old man draped a small American flag at the base of the Nuremberg clock. Page I6