Eastern High School - Echo Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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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

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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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Alice On Her Own M. THROUGH '31 HE DAY was a bleak, blustery one in mid- April, the time late afternoon, but Alice, though she wore no hat, shoes, or gloves, was warm, her heavy black fur coat, though it was ruffled by the wind, was all she needed for pro- tection. Alice was walking slowly up Broadway, medi- tating sourly on life, for Alice was insulted and angry. Her thoughts ran somewhat in this fash- ion: Hum-m-ml They must think they're clever, leaving me like this, all alone. Yesterday they gave me a saucer of milk and a warm place to sleep, and today they tie me up in a bag, and take me for a long, jolty ride, and then they drop me out of the bag in a strange place to shift for myself. Of course I could get back, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing I wanted to come back, even to see Mama and the children and dear Wilbur again. Wilbur was Aliceis gentleman friend. Alice sighed, and continued her soliloquy, now more sadly than indignantly. What fun we used to have, when Mama used to tell us about when she was a girl, and when we all used to go hunting in the fields for birds. What fun I used to have when Wilbur came over every evening and called me from the gate post. Sometimes- P5 o - d A I in Q, But what was this? A door right on the side- walk fiew open, and a girl rushed out. Alice fol- lowed her instinct and rushed in before the door closed. Now she couldn't get out. But Alice was a philosopher: if she couldn't get out, she couldn't g she would make the best of it. There was a fiight of steps before her, so she went up them. She reached the top and looked about her. Hum-m-mln thought Alice. Marble floors, really elegant. just my style. To her right a door stood open, luring Alice to explore what mysteries lay behind it. She poked her head cautiously in 5 seeing no one, she went in and wandered about. There were some strange things there that quite bewildered the simple little country-bred cat-rows and rows of things that Page l 7 had the general appearance of tables, but with queer legs on only one side. Alice jumped on the first one, then to the next and the next. This entertainment palled after a while, and she finished her airy travels by a leap to a large box- like thing that stood at the front of the room. It was covered by many papers that flew merrily about at Alice's sudden arrival among them. After a short investigation of this literature, something caught Alice's eye that made her heart leap with joy. Goldfish! ' 1i-. ti 1 -4 Nothing more could be asked to complete Alice's wonderful day. In two leaps she had reached their bowl, where they swam lazily about, paying no attention whatsoever to her maneuvers. Alice's black paw reached into the bowl to seize one of them. But she was doomed to disappoint- ment,-they eluded her with great ease. More futile attempts! Alice was exasperated. What badly-bred fish these were! They very evidently had not been taught to play properly. Well-bred fish knew that they should allow themselves to be caught in a reasonably short time. I-Ier exaspera- tion turned to disgust. Very well, if they wouldn't play, neither would she. She jumped down from the table and marched sedately out of the room, while the fish eyed her with as little interest as before. Alice, still very much disgusted, said a word under her breath, and stalked into a room whose door, opposite the one she had just passed through, stood invitingly open. There were more rows and rows of table-like things with the box thing in front of them. No goldfish, Alice decided, after a swift survey of the premises. She had thought perhaps there would be some better trained ones here. Oh well, goldfish needn't think they pro- vided the only entertainment for cats. She dis- missed them from her mind with a shrug. At one end of the room were bunches of papers attached to the wall, they fiapped in the breeze Alice made when she jumped on a table-thing to view them. There were funny black marks on them. Alice thought what a pity it was that all those perfectly good papers must be ruined by