Eastern High School - Punch and Judy Yearbook (Washington, DC)

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EASTERN HIGH SCHOOL The Revolt HeLen WEIcEL, 11a. When Mr, Jones came home at 10:30 Pp. m., and heard the living-room clock strike 17, he was so en- raged that he kicked his wife’s tomcat across the front hall. It was very evident that Mrs, Jones was not at home. If she had been, her husband would never have dared to kick the cat; this would not have been enjoying the liberty of the house at such a late hour. Moreover, Mr. Jones would not have reached home after 10 o'clock if his wife were not away. He had long since settled into the dull routine of uneventful married life. Day after day, he shut his desk at 5:16 and joined the herd of home-seeking humanity. He arrived at his apartment each day at 6 o'clock, where he was met by his wife, Clarabelle. Supper was soon over, and Mr. Jones read the paper while his wife washed the dishes. At 8 o'clock the player piano in the flat overhead assaulted the still- ness of the evening, ably assisted by the next door neighbor's phonograph. At 9 p, m. these two dis- turbers of the peace despaired of drowning each other out, and silence reigned. Then would Mr. Jones arise, and put out the cat, which was wont to join its fel- lows under the nearest lamp post, and poison the atmosphere with lively discussion and solos. Mr. Jones was sick of the monotony of his life. On Sun- days the regular order of things was slightly changed. He arose in time for dinner, after which he carefully dissected the clock, put it together again, and started it off with hopes and prayers, which, up to the present writing, had availed not. The clock generally ran properly until Monday, when it reverted to its former condition, first by striking abnormally, and later by lapsing into total unconsciousness. Mr. Jones, who realized the futility of attempting to mend a decrepit clock, would long since have consigned it to the city dump, had it not been for the protestations of his wife, who insisted that the clock could be made to run, inasmuch as it had behaved perfectly during the first year of their marriage. Therefore, when our hero returned that Friday eve- ning and per ceived that the clock was again asserting its independence, he felt amply justified in abusing the cat. Too long, he told himself, had he submitted meekly to his wife’s command, too long had he played the part of the weak-willed pater familias, the household drudge, the patient, plodding jackass, who, being forced to bear the family burdens during the week, must needs repair clocks on Sunday. (This last meta- phor, though somewhat inconsistent, appealed might- ily to Mr. Jones’ abused feelings.) Suddenly he formed a stern resolution, No longer would he endure this dull monotony under the leader- ship of his wife; he would prove that he was master in his own house. Never again, he vowed, would he repair the clock—nay, more, he would sell the hated thing, and with the proceeds thereof he would pur- chase a set of poker chips. Mr. Jones did not play poker, but he was determined to make the reforma- tion a thorough one. As has been said, Mrs. Jones was not at home, having gone to visit her mother. Mr. Jones hastened to carry out his plan, and early the next morning he shook the clock until it ticked with the semblance of health, and set out for the nearest pawnbroker, where he sold it for eighty cents. Somehow, now that the deed was done, he did not feel the same confidence in his ability to rule his house- hold. He wondered what his wife would say when she learned what had become of the ancient relic; he wondered what his mother-in-law would think of his bold action. To tell the truth, he was a trifle more uneasy over his fatter consideration than over the former, for Clarabelle’s mother had presented the clock to them as a wedding present. Moreover, she was very wealthy, and through her lay the only possible means of obtaining the country home, and the peaceful old age of which he and his wife had dreamed. Decidedly, it would not do to displease his mother-in-law. The longer Mr. Jones thought of this, the more worried he became. However, it was too late now; he would stand by his principles and defend his rights, come weal, come woe. As the next day was Saturday, Mr. Jones left the city at three. When he entered the parlor he involun- tarily glanced at the mantel where the clock had stood, and was startled to find how large a space the clock had covered. How bare and vacant it looked. It seemed to Mr. Jones, as if half the furniture of the room had been removed. As he wandered aimlessly through the house, striv- ing to convince himself that he was right, he discov- ered a letter addressed to him in his wife’s handwriting. It contained sundry admonitions as to the care of the cat, and the canary, and ended as follows: “P. S.: Mother has decided to return with me on the noon train Sunday to spend a few days with us. Be sure to take her jewelry that she left at our house the last time she was there, and put it in the safe deposit (Continued on page 17.)

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8 TH clamations It did not lan might tell his er of dishes and ex and explanations as to t seem to be the best place in story, but tell it he did; an to tell it to Margaret, soon thi ‘ ing; and presently the whole room was quiet; and everyone gave close attention to the steady voice of the legless boy; and I have written it just as he told it. L “T am not the hero of this story, and [ am telling it because the real hero can never tell it, and because today, with all this joy at the return of these boys S° fortunate as to get to France, I felt as if I must do something in memory of him, who might have been 4 central figure here. “Jack and I enlisted in and both of us studied and rece! We were transferred to another camp, and from there we hoped to get our orders to go across. This all hap- ‘pened about eighteen months ago. Well, we were dis- appointed. We did not get our sailing orders. I felt badly, but Jack was heartbroken. He had counted so on going, and he found it very difficult to appear satis- fied in the home field. ‘There was a girl, too, whom he had left back home, and who, I understand, was anxious for her soldier to go over, and win medals and great honor. On her account, as well as his own, Jack desired to go, and every day he waited for orders. But they did not come, though Jack haunted the offices, and nearly drove our colonel and captain insane, beg- ging them to get the two of us over. He never left me out. But although the colonel sympathized, he could do nothing until word came from Washington. And as the days lengthened into weeks, it seemed as if we were destined to become S. A. H’s. “During this time Jack and I went up on scouting, trips daily, I usually acting as pilot. In spite of our disappointment, we managed to derive quite a little enjoyment out of these trips. One afternoon Jack came down to the locker in a low frame of mind. He had just received a letter from the girl, asking why he had not yet gone across; and he had just had an inter- view with the colonel, in which he had been told kindly, but finally, that his prospects for ever going across were hazy. Jack felt pretty badly, and suggested to me that we get the bus and take a little trip. I, desir- ing to cheer him up, hastened to get the boys to wheel out the plane, and to get our mechanic to look it over. A few minutes later we were soaring above the field; and with each mile we went upward, Jack’s spirits soared also, for he was a born flyer, and could never be unhappy when he was in the air. We had a pleas- ant trip, and were returning when the unforeseen oc- curred. One of the wires became loosened. A land- ing would have to be effected immediately. I got busy the Aviation Corps together, ived our commissions. gp BASTERNER ighted a field a little to the right, ibly make a safe landing, We r and began to descend, our downward rse hastened by the fast loosening wire. But | till peering through the glasses, cried out in horror as ae + to the field. There were more than a , who had evidently been playing over it. Now they were watch: ering plane in astonishment. We had to Tt was our life staked against the life those children. Jack never hesitated, nt, he swerved the plant sharply to the side, and a moment later, we crashed into an iron uisness settled over me, the last As tunconscio ; thing which came to my ears was the frightened volces of the children. When I came to again in the hospital they told me that Jack was dead and that I would have to lose my legs- After the operation my colonel came to see me. Among other things he told me that our orders had come soon after Jack and I had gone up. So while we lay among the ruins of the plane, our or- ders awaited us at camp.” Allan turned away from Margaret to face the as- sembled company: “Boys,” he said heartily, “no one welcomes you more warmly than I. Pam proud of you, proud to be your countryman ; but today, when you go out from here and receive all the tributes of your friends, not for my sake, but for the sake of him, who gave up his life, with none of the glory and excitement of battle, but with only the knowledge that he was doing right, I want you to remember the boys who never went across, who, though willing and eager, never saw France, never had the opportunity to win a Croix de Guerre,” Allan gave a little bow of thanks and turned back to Margaret. But she was standing, and now taking up her lemonade glass, she said, “Let's drink to the he- roes over here and over there, the stay-at-homes, and the boys who are now coming home, the ones who can m France and those who cannot return For they are all heroes, with the glasses and si where We might poss fence. never return fro! from the home camps. every one.” Ss Bd Donna the soup eater ate everything but the cup and left it on the bookcase. Mr. Rodis, the camouflage artist, puts up his desk top either to eat his lunch or talk to his friend across the aisle. A boy was writing to his mother in a Y. W, C. A hut; and this is what he said: “As I am writing this letter to you, the piano is playing in my uniform.”

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10 THE EASTERNBR Eastern in the Great War From Our Wounded W. O. McCarrrey, '11, lieutenant, Quartermaster Corps: While on a motorcycle trip “Bill” McCaffrey suf- fered a very painful injury, which later proved to be More serious than it was at first thought. Here's wishing you better luck next time, Lieutenant Mc- Caffrey | HERMAN B, Lawson, ex.-'13, corporal, Infantry: During recent fighting Private Lawson's hip was Pierced by a machine gun bullet. He is now recover- ing in a French hospital. Rarpu E. Octe, '13, captain, U. S. Infantry: “Am just recovering from a ‘little present’ I re- ceived up in the Argonne Forest. This is quite a Pretty place and about as swift as Monte Carlo.” Wayne Garman, ex.-'16, corporal, Field Artillery: Word has been received that Wayne Garman, for- merly of Eastern’s Football team, is recovering from shrapnel wounds in a French hospital. A Word from the Faculty J. H. Partrick, lieutenant, Engineers: “You may be interested to know I have been teach- ing for the last six months, at present in the Army Intelligence School. Since receiving my commission T have specialized in aerial photography. It is a new and interesting study taking me above the clouds at times. You would be surprised to know the extent of the A, E. F’s school system. They work it on quite a sound psychological basis. You study first, then observe, next teach, and then do the actual work. I am leaving tomorrow for the front to do the actual work.” How About Sherman’s War? Hewce C, Dreserun, ’15, lieutenant, Engineers: “I now bear the official title of R. T. O., Perigeux, which means that I am no less a person than the Rail- way Transportation Officer of this grand and glorious city. It has befallen my lot to live a life of comfort and luxury such as France has to offer in time of war. I have a cozy room on the third floor of an old substantial residence, with richly upholstered furni- ture, a large bed to sink in of a night, electric lights, an open fireplace with glowing embers this very min- ute. Does that sound like war?” American Spirit in War Grorce R. Burton, ’16, private, First Corps School: “The spirit of the men is wonderful. The only difficulty is to restrain them. After a raid or an attack, recall has to be blown several times to get them back, and to get them to give Up ground is im. possible. ‘They won't yield an inch. Besides that we have helped drive the Boche out of the air. He is helpless in the air except for night raids. Just to show you a few instances of individual fighting, I will cite a few cases. A private in the Engineer Cory when a position was raided, killed eight Huns with a spade, Not so bad for one man, what? A lieuten: ant rushed a pill box or concrete fortification with machine gun occupied by one officer and twenty-five men, killed nine men and captured the officer and sixteen men, and carried the machine gun back to his own line. We are certainly going to clean up when we get our men all ready to take over the front.” War in Full Swing W. A. GaLLanan, ‘17, sergeant, U. S. Marines: “] have been over the top twice in the past seven weeks, and, believe me, I had a lively time. I haq a few narrow escapes but emerged from the front both times without a scratch. I had two pieces of shrapnel to hit my helmet, and one machine gun bullet to glance off the same piece of headgear. My battalion oa very fortunate both the times up. We attained our objectives both times, but not without some hard fight- ing. After dodging whiz-bangs and machine gun bul- lets we had little time for anything else. I don’t guess you know what a whiz-bang is, so I shall try to de- scribe one. It is a shell about 3 inches in diameter that passes over your head with a whiz, bursts behind you with a bang, then your hair stands on end and you wonder why you weren't hit. Of course, when you do get hit, you don't wonder at all. I have en- joyed the best of health ever since I have been over here, I am in the best of spirits and although it is hot at times I have nothing to kick about. Remember me to the faculty and students, and tell them that, although this is a hot scrap, I am glad to be in it.” Biology at the Front C. W. Steves, ex-’16, corporal, Aero: “You should see our collection of animals! We have fifteen rabbits, one dog, one cat, a rooster, a squirrel and a guinea keet (I know I spelled that wrong, but I can’t help it). Anyway, one of the boys told me to pick the ‘keet’ up by his tail and his eyes would stick out two inches. Of course it sounded awfully strange, but still I wanted to see all the things that nature could do. I started to do it and fotind out that a ‘keet’ hasn't a tail. Oh boy, and didn’t they kid me! You should have heard them laugh. Please don’t tell this to Miss Wilkins, for she would think me a very bad botanist.”