Emmerich Manual High School - Ivian Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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12 THE BOOSTER HER KID-BROTHER vs. CUPID m By Robert G. Barnhill Smith ' s was agog with the usual after-theatre crowd. Here and there I caught glimpses of celebrities: Au- thors, actors, journalists, poets, and musicians. A veritable sea of happy, animated faces gleamed on every side. The fragrance of Hanavas drifted at times across my nostrils, and the tinkle of ice-filled glasses completely banished all thoughts of the swelter- ing streets below. Dress-suited wait- ers, with heaping trays balanced on skillful fingers, scurried along the nar- row aisles between rows of wicker tables. A low hum of many voices, now and then accented by a peal of gay laughter, pervaded the room: above all sounded the mellow tunes of the little Hungarian orchestra in the alcove. I viewed the scene with a rising sense of irritation: I was alone — com- pletely alone in one of the largest cities in the world — New York. Yet, what else could I expect? An ab- sence of ten years from the city of one ' s birth is certainly a sufficient ex- cuse for the failure of old friends to recognize the returned wanderer. Be- sides, I had added weight to my one- time slender figure, and also my mus- tache changed the appearance of my face in no small degree. Then, too, my skin, browned by the sun of Italy, added to my changed appearance. No, I had no just cause for irritation. Friendships are only kept alive by continual companionship. Ten years, however, had marked no change in Smith ' s. The alcove, the balcony with its load of palms, the tables, the paintings, and the quaint old clock at the landing of the stairs vouched mutely for that. Then, too, there was that well-remembered, sol- emn-faced, old head-waiter standing in his accustomed place iust outside of the entrance. When I saw his fa- miliar face, I was almost tempted to throw dignity to the winds, and to seize his hand in a good, old-fash- ioned, American hand-clasp! I glanced toward the secluded cor- ner where our table had been — the one where we — Helen and I — had had so many joyous dinners. It was still there in apparently the same spot. Stranger still, it was not occupied, in spite of the fact that the head-waiter had apologetically turned several cou- ples from the door. The sight of that one deserted table amid the gayety of the garden awakened all the memories that had lain dormant through all the past years. The events following that last after-theatre supper flashed into my mind. Prompted into action be- cause Freddie Cole, a former college chum, had lately been paying marked attention to Helen, I had asked her to be my wife. As my eye rested upon the table in the corner, I imagined that I could again hear her low- pitched, hesitant reply: Tomorrow I shall send you my answer, a telegram if I honor your offer — your ring if I don ' t. I absently fingered the fatal ring that had encircled my finger since that morning ten years ago, and idly won- dered whether she and Cole were happy. A hand fell rudely upon my shoul- der. You old pirate, bawled a voice, where have you been all of these years? I turned and confronted the subject of my meditation — Freddie Cole. I say, continued Cole, you ' re looking fine and — a trifle enviously — you ' ve made quite a name for your- self. I ' ve read your latest book. It ' s a dandy. Thanks, I said dryly, with a ques- tioning glance at his two feminine companions. Their cheeks were a shade too rosy, and their hair a trifle too wavy. Cole wrongly glance. Come and join We ' ll talk over old won ' t mind. I was about to when I suddenly loneliness. Here was someone with whom I could talk. To be sure, un- der other circumstances I would have refused, but — I was lonely. interpreted my us, he invited, times. The ladies refuse abruptly, remembered my

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THE BOOSTER 1 1 [Continued from page 9] come at me like a Kansas cyclone. You don ' t have to believe it, durn you, but now I ' m goin ' to pull your old carcass up there and show you if I have to take you on stretchers. We started the next morning and that afternoon found us at the lake. It wuz only a mud-hole, about a mile square, and deep. The first evening we stayed at the hotel and talked over our plans with a few old gray-headed liars (natives of the place). The plans were: We would advance in single file, silently and stealthily, to the lake shore, where we would embark in one transport (eight feet long) and pro- ceed to unknown waters (heavily armed, of course). Daybreak found our transport in the exact center of population of the lake, where Jeff said he didn ' t doubt that the fish would knock the bottom out of the boat, try- ing to come up through the floor. I wuz kinder scared, then, that we didn ' t have an adequate supply of life belts. However, I was very thankful for the wireless which had recently been in- stalled upon our boat. Well, I baited my hook and, after offering a prayer, in which I asked that the fish which I hooked should not be strong enough to jerk me clear down to the bottom of the lake, cast in. Four hours later, I wuz very glad that I had made that praver, for it surely was answered to a t. That is, the fish that I hooked was not strong enough to jerk me into the lake. In fact, I was willing for a good fight with any fish about that time. I said so to Jeff, too. Jeff had an ingrown grouch that dav. ' cauz when I says, Look out, Jefne, or that whale you hooked will knock a plank off the hull, he turned and beaned me with an oar. I dodged his second attempt an ' swung my line around ' till it just hooked right into Jeff ' s coat collar. Then I jumped up real quick to jar the boat and before he could recover his balance, I vanked on my line. Jeff knocked a hole in t p lake as big as the entrance to Mammoth cave. I didn ' t send out no S. O. S., but I warped the cable around the bowsprit and manned the oars. I mad° a record in towin ' Teff into the boathouse. Of course, I had to do a little reconnoitering about the harbor before making dock, so as to avoid any possible mine or submarine. However, when I finally did enter the harbor, the whole lakeside population was on hand to welcome me. I heard one old duffer yell: That ' s the first fish I ' ve seen taken out o ' that lake in twenty year. One fellow had a pair of fish scales on hand to weigh the shark. However, owing to the high cost of living and the war in Germany, I didn ' t hesitate any to gather statis- tics. I simply imitated the Flying Squadron in Retreat, and started on a bee-line for the tall timber. Two days later, I made an attempt to return to the hotel, but I saw a man who looked familiar, settin ' on the hotel steps, with a shot-gun across his lap. Every little while he would look up towards the gravevard on the hill and sigh real hungry like. A little ways past the hotel, I saw an under- taker ' s wasron under a tree and the driver sittin ' back on the seat asleep. It was a quiet seen 3 . In fact, too durn quiet for yours truly. A Trip to Masoma. We ' re off for a trip to Masoma ' Club, At Stinson, manv Miles away, It ' s a Newhouse with a Si ackhouse. Whey they will Leiss, they say. And since we feared at Cald rwood, Our slipping feet would Meyer, We took both Buss and little Ford, And now we ' ll never tire. An Auer-bach we passed the gate. Where we had to drop our Tol-in. And now we ' ve almost reached the lane, Where we shall gaily bowl in. We ' re at the door; Fleck off the dust. And Neal with eye Wright at the Locke, For Masoma is Fuller of maidens fair Than lightning is of Shock. Do you think if we ' d Foster our graces, They ' d open wide the door! 1 What good is a peep-hole 5 We want to get in, And we want it Moore and Moore.

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THE BOOSTER 13 Sure, I accepted, I ' ll be pleased to. During the next hour I really en- joyed myself. Cole was an excellent story teller, and I soon yielded to the charm of his personality. We fairly lived over the old college days, fought class scraps, and celebrated football victories. The ladies listened in speechless amazement; our talk for the most part was Greek to them. They did not think for an instant that we were impolite. They — but what ' s the use. You understand; you ' ve been there yourself. Cole had just finished relating one of his best stories. The ladies were convulsed with laughter, and even the waiter at my elbow, usually solemn- faced, made futile efforts to check his mirth. I myself enjoyed the story im- mensely. As I glanced about to see if our party was attracting undue at- tention, my eye suddenly rested upon a face which caused my blood to leap and throb fiercely through my veins. Seated at that familiar table in the corner was Helen. There could be no mistake; I would have known her among a thousand. She was looking intently at our table. Furthermore, I was the object of her gaze. At first I was at a loss how to account for this. Then the solution dawned upon me, and with it vanished the last lin- gering hope that I had treasured through all the past years. Undoubt- edly she was Cole ' s wife. She had heard of his nightly parties and had followed him. She had — oh, heavens — I suppose that she thoueht I was responsible for his escapades. That explained her fixed gaze at me. I thought rapidly. There was just a chance that she had not recogrnized Cole. I would help him out. I sav- agely kicked Cole ' s foot as it rested under the table. Tell the waiter to bring your hat and cane, I ordered. Then follow me; but whatever you do don ' t turn your head. What ' s wrong with you, man? growled Cole, as he eased his foot. Quick! I commanded. Do as T tell you. Your wife is here. For a second, Cole stared open- mouthed at me. Then he struck the table such a blow that the surprised waiter started back, tipped over a chair, and fell sprawling on the floor. Ha! ha! ha! roared Cole, startling the whole cafe. My wife! Ha! ha! ha! That ' s a good joke. Do you mean to tell me that you didn ' t marry her? I demanded. For some reason, my heart was thumping most painfully. Marry her? Marry who? asked Cole. Then overcome by laughter, he again roared aloud. So she hadn ' t married him after all. Perhaps she hadn ' t married anyone. As this last thought flashed into my mind, I arose from the table, and without a word to the convulsed Cole, made my way down the narrow aisle. The girl saw me coming, and I fancied that I saw her tremble slightly. I sank down in the chair opposite her. How familiar everything seemed! The se- cluded corner, the wicker table, the bowl of sweet-smelling roses, the melody that the orchestra was play- ino and — Helen. The girl spoke first; how common- place her words! Ten years have not altered you much, Walter, she said. Not much, I repeated, trying to speak naturally, nor you either.