Eastern High School - Echo Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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THE EASTERN ECHO She was greeted everywhere as she walked along the corridor. When she reached her room there were only a few girls in it. Where,s everybody ? she asked. Assembly today. They're in the auditorium. I-Iere's Tomboy Emerson! I've got a crush on her. She's a swell athlete, came in a whisper to Tomboy's ears as she walked through the auditorium doorway. Yeh, crush on mef' she muttered angrily. I hope you get crushed. There was a visitor on the stage, who was going to entertain the girls. Presently she was presented and began to talk. Tomboy's thoughts were elsewhere and at first she paid little atten- tion, but something in the visitor's speech stirred her and she listened eagerly. 1 The Hamilton Cookery School, the visitor was saying, is going to have a cake-making con- test. Any girl in this school is eligible whether she takes Home Economics or not. Before she she must have the principalls hands in her cake signature and also the signature of one who has watched her make the cake. The cake must be the girl herself without any she went on laughingly, I made entirely by help. Of course, mean that you cannot have the help of your mother or neighbor. But if you have forgotten how many eggs the cake should have, by all means look in a cookery book. The contest will be held in two weeks. In the meantime you can get from the office a printed slip like this Cshe held up a small piece of paperj giving you all the details connected with the entering of your cake in the contestf' For the rest of the day Tomboy's thoughts were on a new topic-cake-baking. She loved to cook, that was another thing that nobody knew about Tomboy. That afternoon as soon as school let out, Tom- boy forgot to rush down to the gym for basket ball practice. At home a telephone call brought Jimmy Hughes, her youthful next-door neighbor, hurrying to the front porch. Will you do it for me P Tomboy ended, after having explained all about the contest. Sure, Jimmy answered, I'll watch you, Tom- boy, and sign up for you. But say, what kind of a cake are you gonna make ? I was thinking of a 'Liberty Cakef It would be square-shaped and I'd have dark pink and white icing for the stripes and blue and white for the field of blue and stars. It would repre- sent the American Flag. Say, that would be swell! cried Jimmy, ad- miringly. Will you promise to give me a piece of the cake after it's won the prize P If it does, said Tomboy with a laugh, l'll give you half of itf' As Miss Waldon had directed, Tomboy got a slip in the office and had it properly signed. She sent the slip in to the Hamilton Cookery School a week before the cake had to be in. Then she set about buying her icings and material At last the day of the cake-baking arrived. Gee,', sighed Jimmy, eyeing Tomboy as she measured out the flour and baking powder. That cake's gonna be swell. You're gonna win. Let's hope so,', answered Tomboy reverently. Her cake was one of hundreds. She looked around the cooking room with its tables full of wrapped cakes. Miss Hale, the cooking instruct- ress, took her cake and deposited it on a table with others. The girl that crept into the auditorium the next morning was hardly noticed in the excitement, and anyhow she did not look at all like Tomboy Emerson. She wore her dainty organdy dress and the silk stockings and pumps. Again she had combed her hair in that windblown style. A touch of powder hid some of the impish freckles that dotted her nose. She was not Tomboy g she was Diane. No one spoke to her, they did not even seem to know her and for that she was thankful. She sat with her head deep in a book until the principal walked on the stage. Today, boys and girlsf' he said, we have gathered to award the future housewife a prize for baking the best cake. And I am glad to say that the winner of the prize was number, he paused and looked around at the audience, num- ber seventeen. It is a very fine cake-a cake in the shape of the American flag with red, white and blue icing. Will number seventeen please come upon the stage ? Diane stood up, and as the applauding audi- ence turned and looked at her, she blushed for the first time in her life. Tomboy l gasped the audience as she walked across the stage. Tomboy Emerson ! Why Tomboy l said the principal in astonish- ment, holding out his hand. I had no idea that it was you, Tomboy. I beg your pardon, Mr. Clark, said she, with her head held high and speaking haughtily. For what? asked Mr. Clark nonplussed. My name is not Tomboyl' She stood there, a dainty vision of organdy and windblown bob, and her voice rang out clearly and distinctly to the ends of the auditorium, while the audience gasped again at her words. It is now-as it always should have been-Diane Emerson. Page 22

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TUMBOY FLORENCE MATCHAR '32 a EH TOMBOYF, The girl smiled and called back. That name hurled at her was not an in- sult. It had been her name since she was three years old. Her real name had been forgotteng it was such a pretty name too: Diane Emerson. But that name was no more, scarcely had it ever been. Her mother had given up all hope of Diane's ever being as dainty and feminine as her name. At three years she had seen her throw a ball with a sharp, swift curve. She had told her she was a little tomboy. Diane went out and told her play- mates that she was a little tomboy. That name had stuck to her ever since. But Tomboy was so tired of the name. She was a girl: she wanted to be treated as a girl. She wanted to wear dainty white dresses as all the girls did g she wanted to be called Diane g and most of all, she wanted to be able- to talk as all the girls did. Most of the girls' ins her class would gather around one table in the 'cafeteria and talk about their boy-friends and parties Tomboy never had such topics to discuss. She had friends among boys, mind you, but all they ever talked about was ball or some other sport. And as for parties! Tomboy had never been to parties. She was popular when it came to mak- ing the teams, her school or class team never had a chance to win unless Tomboy was on it. But when it came to parties they all forgot Tomboy. Yes, they liked her, she was nice, but- She wouldn't have a good time at the party, all the boys like feminine, not athletic, girls. Besides- she can't dance. . . . All she would be able to talk about is sports. . . . At a party she would be a complete failure. They did not realize that below that tomboyish mask there was a girl as pretty, and dainty, and lovable as any of them, a Diane well worthy of her name. No one ever guessed that the hard- boiled, mannish-looking Tomboy Emerson, like any other normal girl, had her dreams of the knight that sometime in the future would come riding on a big black horse. No one guessed that Diane could dance, had learned to dance by watch- ing the others at school. And of course no one would ever imagine that Tomboy could cry be- cause somebody gave a party and almost every- one was invited but her. Tomboy's mannish looks had concealed all the dainty, feminine beauty bequeathed to her by her still daintier mother. A golden-brown crop of Page Zi hair was cut and pushed back so hard and slick with water that all its natural waves were gone. Beneath a large white forehead that marked her intelligence, were brown eyes that were always sad, even though her lips smiled.. A keen and sympathetic observer could have told at one glance the dreams that were behind those eyes, but no one noticed Tomboy closely enough for that. Golden-brown freckles that matched her ,hair dot- ted her small straight nose. Her red lips were free from cosmetics, and through them gleamed two even rows of white teeth. Most of the time she wore a navy blue suit, with a tight-fitting, straight-lined skirt and a jacket 3 beneath that was a mannish shirt and a jazzbow tie. Her legs were always clad in socks or sport hose and nothing else but sport oxfords had ever been seen on her feet. There was another thing that nobody knew, not even her mother, for she had never taken the time to look. Once Tomboy had seen in a window a dress, one of the kind she had dreamed of. It was a dainty vision of blue organdyf' She had longed for thatdress-ached for it. She hated to ask her mother to buy it and she knew that if she ever wore the dress she would be teased and tormented for she knew not how long. So, no one knowing, Tomboy had taken her en- tire monthly pocket-money and had spent every cent of it for the dream dress. She had never worn it outside her own room, but every night she could not go to bed without having tried the dress on. With it she had purchased a pair of silk hose and cuban-heeled pumps. The only thing that had spoiled it was her hair. That dress didnyt look just right with her hair pushed back so hard and slick. She had parted it on the right side and brushed it, bringing back the waves and making it soft and silky. The hair curled around her face in what the girls called a windblown bob. It suited her to perfection. Yeh Tomboy! And Tomboy, on this par- ticular morning, as many times before, smiled and called back, but her heart was heavy. Gonna try for the team ? Sure So long. See you in the gym, girl friend. The girl turned and again took up her inter- rupted conversation with the boys. Girl friend, thought Tomboy bitterly. I-Iumph! And last week when she had her party she forgot all about her girl friend !

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Trials 0 UL Puppet FRANCES STURGEON ,28 NE MIGHT THINK a puppet has no worries. VVell, I am going to tell you of some of my chief ones, and then you at least will know better. My greatest trial is the girl who has charge of me,-the greatest because all my other troubles centre around her. If she were not around I would have a glorious time but- well, I'll tell you some of the things she does to me or makes me do. My puppeteer-that's what I call her-is abso- lutely the bossiest person I have ever seen. She always wants me to do everything just as she thinks it should be done. If I donlt agree with her and want to do something else she jerks my strings and I either have to do as she wants me to or fall over as if I had fainted. If she would only let me alone for a few minutes I could show her a thing or two about how I should work. Moreover, the way she makes me act you would think I had a minor part in the play, when really I am the hero. She always stands me behind a table or a chair so that people cannot see me. I know you won't beleive me,' but itls a fact that in our last show the dog got more applause than I did. I was absolutely embarrassed to tears. But she doesn't in the least mind embarrassing me. The other day I was walking off stage and one of my strings got caught in the scenery and I was jerked up in the air and-would you be- lieve it ?-that heartless girl laughed and consid- ered it a huge joke. I was never so mortified in all my life--not to speak of the way it hurt. I hope that someday I shall have a new puppeteer -one who is more considerate of my feelings! One would think that girl would be nice to me when I am on the stage, because she knows that's the only time I am free to move about. When I am not there I am put in a suit-case with the other seven members of .my family. We are wrapped up tightly so that our strings will not I get tangled and then we are placed in the suit- case. Sometimes my feet are above my head in a most uncomfortable position and I have to stay that way for weeks before anyone comes to take me out. When I get out I am, of course, cramped and stiff and canit move about very well, but that puppeteer of mine expects me to stand on my head right away. Oh, what a life I do lead! Not only this, but some people don't even know what a puppet is. I was never so taken aback as when I found that out! Oh dear !-I just thought of something-maybe you are one of those who have never heard of me. That's hard to believe, but just in case it may be true I will tell you briefly what I am like. Of course there are many different kinds of puppets but I am going to tell you about myself. I used to be a doll-oh, for those happy, care- free days again !-until one day they decided to make me into a puppet. They completely dis- jointed me and then put me back together loosely so that I could move easily. Then they dressed me and fixed my face and hair so that I looked like a boy. After I was dressed they started at- taching the strings. I had one above each knee, one on each wrist, one on each side of my head, one at the back of my neck and one in the middle of my back. With the aid of these strings I can walk, move my head and arms and do most any- thing that other people can. But alas, as I said before, I am never my own master. I hope you now have a little clearer idea of what I amp and if you ever hear of any persons who don't know about me, please tell them, for it is awfully embarrassing to hear someone say that he never heard of you. I hope too that this account of my trials may win me a little of your sympathy. I I Q 1 Y 9 ' o 5, , , Q3 4, s I i ' It Page 23