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

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= Frsrvuary, 199. ye HASTERNER ; PacE 10 me Revelations —Chapters JosEPHINE TREM i S Did you ever while away the long minute of waiting for the friend who’s never 0M time by reading the names in a telephone directory? Try it some day; it’s an excel- lent indoor sport. Tt occurred to one of our sagacious Seniors that the registration cards in the business office might furnish some interesting facts as well as the telephone book, and though he declared he had no serious intentions of delv- ing into numerology, nevertheless he deter: mined to give those files the ‘‘once over. Perchance you would enjoy these findings too. There are twenty students with the sur- name of Miller. Would you believe it? One would expect Jones or Smith to have the most, but the laurels go to Miller, while Smith is the runner-up with eighteen, the Jones’ honor being upheld by only ten. King, Davis, and Fisher, each with nine representa- tives, were next in evidence. There are four colors, Gray, Green, Black, and Brown, but no White. Two persons are surnamed Sugar. Fortunately, or perhaps it should be said appropriately, both are girls. But listen to this. Two other students go by the last name, Lady. One is a boy! Sometimes it would be desirable to choose one’s own name. The shortest names found were Erb, Day, and Ady. Yet even the lofty ambition of a se- nior was not of sufficient strength to permit a search for the longest. Several of our num- ber bear the names of past presidents— Hayes, Harrison, Harding. More names be- gin with B than any other letter: there are none with the initial X The cards revealed three youngsters who must be fine students, to judge from their age. Were it not for the infallibility of the person who discovered these facts, one might hesitate to believe that such prodigies are here. Pauline Noffsinger and Dorothy Me- Crone who have but recently entered the second semester, are thirteen years old. Vic- AtoZ ain, '26 tor Bell, a rookie and the youngest boy, if twelve years, ten months of age. Birthplaces are the next attractive feature of the reports submitted by Mr. Senior, The jast item of information required on the regis. tration blank reads, “‘Place of birth (State or Country).”” Sout) Was gave the en- lightening fact, “state. | Another wrote that he was born in Oxen Hill. Strange to say, that state (or country) is not universally known and the writer puzzled for Eom time over its location. There are only nine states in the Union not represented by at least one member of the student body. These are Vey. mont, New Mexico, bela Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Montana, and W isconsin. It is in- teresting to note that Washington, Oregon and California are not among those absent, Maryland sends us one hundred thirty-three natives, and Virginia but two less than that. Nine foreign countries are listed. England, Ireland, and Germany have each given ys one of their children. Two students come from Porto Rico, and the same number from the Philippines. Italy, Canada, and Poland are each represented by three former regj dents, while the number from Russia is four, If the cards could tell us more, no doubt we should hear of thrilling adventures, strange experiences, the joys and sorrows that have filled the lives of our school mates even in the few short years that are behind them; we should know what it is like in lands where sunshine and summer never de- part or where Old King Winter wraps the earth in a mantle of snow and ice. As it is, we may only dream about those around us. Perhaps that is the nicest way after all. Emily: “Do you like Beethoven’s works, Tommy ?’’ Tommy: ‘‘Never visited them. Wot does he manufacture?’’ —Western Breeze. bows

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Frsruary, 1926 The EASTERNER Pace 9 Pens That Have Achieved Georce Roru, ’26 Writing is a most fascinating art; yet to be so thoroughly fascinated with it as to make it a profession, is little less than an achieve- ment. The desire to write is a heritage of youth. Only the stage rivals it in allurement and romance; and aside from dreams of fame through the actor’s art, youth seems to find in writing a path to suecess and glory. It is truly romantic and extremely interest- ing to trace the achievements of our own alumni who have gained reputations as writ- ers from the days of their English themes and Burke exams to their novels and their newspaper successes, From the class of 93 comes Arthur Warner who in his high school days organized the first Eastern magazine under the all-wise title of the Owl. Today Mr. Warner has risen from his position as editor of our school’s first periodical to that of assistant editor of the New York Nation, a paper widely cireu- lated in practically every state in the union. Mr. Warner has contributed feature articles to prominent magazines, among them the Cen- tury and the National Geographic. Everett Warner, brother of the newspaper- man and of the same elass, aside from being recognized as an artist of distinction, has writ- ten a number of feature articles, beautifully illustrated in his own individual style in such Magazines as Harper’s and The Century. The class of ’93 has given us two distin- guished newspaper correspondents, Bramwell Davis and Deltus Edwards. Besides holding a prominent position in the Library of Congress for many years, John C. Fitzpatrick of '94 has written for Scribner’s and has edited an interesting autobiography of Martin Van Buren. A writer of delightful biographical sketches is Mary Rose Parkman, ’94, author of four volumes, Heroes of Today, Heroines of Serv- ice, Fighters for Peace, and Conquests of In- vention. They are sketches of heroie figures of modern times, in art, science, and warfare. Among the leading newspapermen of Washington, George Rothwell Brown holds a remarkable position. His ‘‘Postscripts,’’ a daily column of the Post, has hundreds of delighted readers who marvel at his versatil- ity and enjoy his pungent wit. A writer of lovely poetry is Mary Messer of 1900 who has received recognition through poems published in the Atlantic Monthly, the Outlook and The Century. Several of her poems were taken from these magazines and reprinted in Old Eastern, the book published three years ago to commemorate our leaving the old school. Donald A. Craig, 1908, who revived the school’s magazine under the present title of the EASTERNER, is widely known as a newspa- per correspondent and figured prominently in the Alaskan trip of President Harding. From the class of 1904 comes Roy Helton, famed as a writer of stories and poems. While at Eastern Mr. Helton was editor of the EASTERNER and prominent in school ac- tivities. Aside from publishing a book of verse, Outcasts in Beulah Land, Mr. Helton has written two novels in which he shows a marvelous understanding of boy psychology. Jimmie Sharswood is a delightful story of boyhood days in Washington, while The Ad- ventures of Peacham Grew shows the boy at a newer and deeper angle. Florence E. Yoder, now Mrs. Florence Yoder Wilson, and Nettie P. McGill, both of 1908, have written extensively. A book on musie¢ appreciation for children is being prepared by Sadie C. Styron of the class of 1918. Miss Styron is a well-known musician. Her book promises to be a treat as well as an education for the youth of the land. Dr. Clarence Rice of 1912 has contributed largely to scientific publications while Wat- son Davis of 1914 has recently published an interesting volume, The Story of Copper, and (Continued on page 33)

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Frpruary, 1926 The KASTERNER Pace 11 Teddy Rurn Benn, ’28 “Sure, his name’s Teddy, and he ean do lots of tricks. Show him how you jump, Ted.” The little old man held his arms together near the floor and the shaggy, dirty, little poodle jumped through them. “Now, that’s fine!’’ beamed his master, approvingly, ‘‘You can have your candy now. Good boy!’’ And then the little old man dropped a store chocolate (price one cent) into Teddy’s open mouth. Over in a far corner of the store, Jack Morris shifted his feet restlessly, in disgust with the world in general. A quarrel with one’s father is distressing to one of any age, and especially to one home from college on a vacation. Why was it he and dad were continually having ‘‘run ins’? to spoil his vacations? Now, because of a little foolishness his father chose to call impertinence, Jack was an exile from his own hearth. He reealled with a shudder the last scene before the library fire- place—his father’s accusation, his own alarm and anger, the father’s threat that the home was to stop being called Jack’s home until that young gentleman begged dad’s pardon. Jack’s mind could not blot out the picture of his father’s face as he had last seen it, nor could he eseape from the tones of his voice, which rang in his mind. But pride is a hard thing to conquer, and Jack’s temper at best was not a gentle one. Those who believe in heredity will agree he had just cause. Just now the temperament was enjoying full play. He gazed wretchedly out through the dingy shop-window, into the street. Rainy, unfriendly, and cold was the outside world. Was there a silver lining to the gray cloud hanging just over that tall building opposite? Suddenly there penetrated into Jack’s de- spondent thoughts the voice of the little old man; and he turned around, in time to see Teddy finish his last chocolate, roll over, and trot after the little old man. “That’s a queer old man,’’ remarked the storekeeper as the last sound of Teddy’s little trots died away. ‘‘He comes in here every day and buys a loaf of yesterday’s bread, and three pieces of candy for his dog. He used to be lionized for his art. by society, they say, but you know the whims of the 400. He has a hall room on Pratt Street now—lives there alone, except for his dog. I don’t think he has a decent suit of clothes, or any money to speak of; but for all that he seems mighty cheerful. He’s crazy about that dog o’ his. Now what was it you wanted? Cigarettes?’’ Jack nodded, pocketed his purchase and de- parted. For several days Jack haunted the store, having no other interest, and became well ac- quainted, from his sequested corner, with the eceentricities and devotion of the strange couple. Then one day the quaint pair did not make their eall. “T’m afraid something has happened to him,’’ remarked the storekeeper to Jack. “This is the first morning he’s missed for— oh, two or three years.” Jack was suddenly disturbed. It was noth- ing to him, and yet—the Morrisses were ten- der-hearted people. An hour later Jack, aimlessly strolling through the park, came upon the little old man sitting on a bench. His hands were folded on his knee and he was bent over in dejection. Jack took a seat on the bench. “How do you do?’’ Jack began timidly. The old man nodded, silently. “T don’t see your little dog,’’ ventured Jack. “No. Teddy is— is— he—’’ began the old man brokenly, as though words were hard to find just then. “Not hurt? or ill?’’ asked Jack quickly. “No. The dog-eatchers were around this morning, and they— they—’’ ““Took him! Oh, no!’’ “They did, though.’’