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

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THE EASTERNER 15 A Street Car Episode By Vircinia K. SLOANE, ’29 It’s quite a common thing to ride street cars. Hundreds of people do it every day. But to me it’s a grand adventure, trying at times, and laughable at others. I start out for school in the morning, run- ning, because I am late as usual, and arrive at the car stop just in time to see the car doors shut, and a car resume its way. If it isa warm day, I am forced to wait an interminable length of time with King Sol’s relentless rays beating down upon me. If it is a cold day, I try in vain to devise some means of preventing my- self from freezing, as I impatiently watch the car track, At last a car condescends to approach with the speed of a funeral march. It arrives in due time, and I eagerly board it, along with a crowd of people, late like myself, to discover that there is standing room only, and very little of that. Next I peer into my pocket-book, and see that I have not a token. This means I must purchase a supply. I now discover that I have not the exact change; so I hand the conductor a bill. He shells out the tokens and change with surprising carelessness. My suspicions are aroused. A conductor not only short-changed, but also short-tokened my chum the other day. Why could not one do me the same? But tak- ing into consideration that there is a crowd, and that I carry books, pocket-book, and lunch, counting money is an impossibility. I give the conductor a sharp, inspecting glance, decide he looks honest, and let the matter drop. Just as I have obtained an Avenue transfer the car stops, and I realize that the first part of the journey is finished. I look through the window, and see a Seventeenth and Pennsylvania Avenue car at the platform. This causes me to make a hur- ried exit, nearly knocking several people over as I go. Then I sprint across the Avenue, breaking all the laws against jay-walking that were ever invented, amid the loud protesta- Hl tions of the policeman whose attention my swiftly-moving figure has arrested, and narrow- ly escaping being run over. Coming across the street is a young gentleman whom I have never met, but just about now he and I meet with force not to be forgotten immediately. I can’t stop for a little thing like this, however, when my punctuality record, or rather the remains of it, and that of my class are in jeopardy; so I resume my race, reaching goal just in time to see the doors close and the car begin to move. Now that I am actually standing still I awake to the realization that as a result of my encoun- ter with the young gentleman, I am out of breath. I am a little embarrassed to find that everyone on the platform is regarding me with unconcealed amusement. I gaze down the car track, and to my vexa- tion and sorrow, not a street car is in sight! I wait, and I wait, and then I wait some more. At last my waiting is rewarded. Far in the distance is an object which comes nearer. At last it is close enough for me to read the sign, “Eighth and F Streets, N. E.” A car I can’t take, of course! Now for the second period of waiting, only to be rewarded by a second “Fighth and F Streets” car. Right behind it is another car, “Peace Monument.” As this car would leave me about a mile and a half to walk it doesn’t seem advisable to take it. My small supply of patience is now nearly exhausted. I pace the platform in mental agony. At last my delighted eyes behold “Navy Yard.” With a sense of relief, I board the car, hand the conductor my transfer, and de- mand, “Eighth Street transfer, please.” (Continued on page 30)

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aS é (B Editor’s Note: This is the first of a Bee a ters to be published for history Sut ne Aste the letters of A. Nutt, famous poe : positivelY ss relics. We them included kage of fish that the cow jumped over the moon. the first publication of these pricele challenge you to find the information in in any history—and will award a pac food to the person who does. June 3, 2127. London, England, Dearest Annie: I am sorry not to have written you before, but I have been in a rather embarassing POs!” tion. I was arrested for speeding across iis new Atlantic bridge—the one connecting New York and London—and was compelled to spend the night in one of the police stations on the bridge, out in the middle of the ocean. It ies so annoying to have to go back to New York the next morning to appear in court, when I had want ed to reach London before dark! When I finally was dismissed from court (minus $10) I found it was too late to make the journey to London before nightfall, and so I decided to take a little ride in my plane as I needed air, I flew over to Hollywood, Cal., a pleasant little spin of about an hour, and dropped in at the studio to see my old college chum, “Rats” Cheesam. “Rats” is the movie sheik with the evil black eyes and the shiny hair. His stage name is Angelo Sappechi. Business was dull at the studio and so “Rats” invited himself out for a ride with me. He was in a musical mood, and had a bad cold—always a bad combination. “Rats” tells me that the new railway to Mars is a wonder. Of course, the trains leave only twice a day from both ends, but the business is growing. The day “Rats” went they were delayed at the moon with engine trouble, and so he got out and walked around. Perhaps that’s why he’s been mooning so mushily in his pictures lately. Not much at Mars yet, “Rats” says—only a few summer resorts and trading posts: but the planet has great possibilities. Next week, I think, I shall take the morning Mars “Rats’” descriptions have jp. train to i build a laborat Perhaps I can Ory trigued me tie Lovingly, ALBERT. Googoo, Mars, July 10, 2127, ; nnie: ; Bae fa some thrilling adventures this ni week. temporary laboratory here in Googoo ay a ae of the entire solar system, I happened to glance up from e Goldfish as a Beast of Prey,” f people moving about on the commands This morning as my study of “Th J saw a swarm 0 xt to Mars. ae aie Sidyiot goldfish psychology impos- sible while these beings flickered back and forth in the light, I locked up my laboratory and sallied forth to investigate. ; It seems that the British and Chinese both claim this star, and, after submitting the dis- pute to arbitration, they decided they couldn’t wait for the decision because the star is sched- uled to pass Mars this month and then swing to the other side of the universe—to return here about four thousand years hence; so each country wants to make sure of it before it goes, Annie, I feel elated at being so close to an event that will go down in history! I wonder what the outcome will be? Last night I attended a dance given by the Y. M. C. A. in Bolognaville. I had a very pleasant evening, for I met Professor Smugg, of London, and we discussed monocotyledons and ancient Martian fossils. I also danced with his stepsister—a few airplane whirls and comet capers, with a Charleston to rest on and recover the breath and equilibrium. My work goes on as usual, but I manage to get three hours of sleep every night, as you or- dered me to do. It’s a great life, if you don’t weaken. Love, ALBERT. RurtH BELL, ’28.

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16 NEE BASTERNER The Poets’ Corner SONG These things I covet .. . Under a blue heaven, A garden, all of Phlox and columbine; : A little house that knows no step but mine; The hushed, cool solitude of summer even; A small bronze Pan, to set among the flowers, In all his impish pathos; an old well; But most of all the musty, homelike smell Of loved old books in happy leisure hours. i E.ise ScHar®, ’27. A WORD-PORTRAIT To Beryre Epmiston You are like a young birch tree— As straight, as slender, S clean-cut, as passionless. You move like a birch tree in the wind, With a slow rhythm that is almost languid. The oak is Majestic; The pine, friendly ; he poplar, aloof; But the birch tree is proud, And the grasses round it pay it homage. Ettse Scrarr, '27. A MAIDEN TO HER LOVER You're not a member of a “frat”— Bootleg you neither buy nor sell; Your ties are tame and mild; your hat Is irreproachable as well. You do not have the cosmic urge; You stay, contented, where you are; And folk will never sound your dirge For speeding in your flivver-car. You're surely not collegiate ; You're oft mistaken for a hick; It takes a deal to penetrate Your skull, because, alas, it’s thick. With all your faults, I love you still; T could not do without you, for— Although you seem an awful pill, You certainly are not a bore, You don’t know what to talk about— So conversation’s on the shelf; But still your praises I can shout— You never talk about yourself. Elsie Scharf, ’27, A SONNET in French, with various tenses, nk test after test, lose to fas eae i though I’m doing my best terrible work, the ane Olt in a Spanish ae Wishing ™ bs aren't so hard, nor homework so long, Where vb have the ghost of a chance to pass, ieee ie ugh you must ride a “pony” along; een these thoughts my French teacher almost e ee aia id then my grad d ass a test—an Y grade, pS eerionieet at break of day arising ead ixty to one hundred in the shade ; aaa es sweet French remembered, all. troubles vanish, s Rape to change my French for panish. That then I scorn Shi Nears ats hen struggling, ate and flu ‘And come pretty ¢ THE INVALID very.ill® Tray, I hear, has been very i + Hes led to swallow many a pill; However, he’s getting better now, f He'll soon be able to say “Bow-wow | leverest doctors, I hear it said, Riaatet his paw and shook his head— 7 And vowed, in sad tones, that the complaint He suffered was extremely quaint ave it a Dog Latin name, a word That ae mother never before had heard; But when she’s asked, in solemn tones, She only replies “Stuff—too many bones,” Rut ABELMAN, ’29, PROPHECY The world is still In its early morn, And uncounted ages Yet shall be born. After my days These things shall be, Yet who may say That I shall not see? For I shall roam Where spirits are And I can watch From the nearest star. And I have faith That it will be so, For I saw the day-break Long ago. —Ruth Bell, ’28.