Fredericksburg High School - Rapahanoc Yearbook (Fredericksburg, VA)

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He jumped into his clothes, deposited all of his weekly allowance of four dol¬ lars in his pocket, and shot thru the door and down the steps, thru several long corridors, and at last out-of-doors, not stopping at the remonstrances of the professors and questions of the other pupils, for he was headed for the railroad station. After leaping over a goodly number of puddles from the ram of the preceding night, and barely escaping a collision with several citizens, he soon found himself at the depot. “Where—when’s the next train for N’york?” he breathlessly inquired. I he spectacled, old ticket-agent slowly, to Harry’s disgust, expounded that the next train would be the 12:05—the last one until after four o’clock—and it was now twenty minutes of eleven! “Well, gi’ me one whole ticket. How much? abbreviated Mr. Cuthbert. “Wal, wait a minute; don’ get me irated, now,” drawled the aged ticket- vendor. Then, after peering over the top of his spectacles at a table of rates for what seemed an age to Harry, he added, “It says here, three forty-nine fer one trip to N’yawuk, includin’ th’ war tax, excludin ' the—aw-uh“—here he raised his eyebrows and looked more intently at the list,—“what th’—oh, ya-as, th’ porter¬ age,—excludin’ the porterage, pullman fees, meals on train, an us—er- let’s see— charges—that’s hit—charges fer extry bag—” “Oh, all right—I know all about that—but gi’ me one. Get a wiggle on!” The old veteran slowly, but deliberately, turned around, rolled a crushing look of contempt at Harry, then regained his former position, cleared his throat, and began where he left off: “Ahem! As I was saying, —excludin’ all charges fer extry baggage an’ - Lissen, please; I haven’t even begun to pack my trunk yet,—an’ it’s very im¬ portant that I should make this train. Please gi’ me the ticket.’’ By this time a line of ticket seekers—impatient ones—had formed behind Harry, so the obstinate patriarch, after deliberately taking over one and a half valuable minutes of our hero’s time to decide which ticket to bestow upon him, passed the billet thru the bars with the change. “It’ll git thar at 2:13,” he concluded brusquely. “Next!” After breaking all pedestrian speed limits, Harry again found himself in his habitation. He had jammed the ticket and surplus fifty-one cents into his pants pocket, and was delving into his various drawers and other receptacles for the articles he thought necessary for his trip, when suddenly there was a knock upon the door. 6 7

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OTere ©ott Ctier 3n a urrp? Alvin T. Rowe, Jr. W HO the deuce is that breakin’ down the door?” shouted Harry Cuthbert formidably from his luxurious mass of pillows, sheets, and other bed- ware to the persistent knocker at his chamber door in a New Jersey college. It was Saturday and he had been trying to decide whether to get out of bed ever since half past seven. “It is I, the gallant knight of Earlymorn,” quoth the unseen visitor from behind a protecting door. “None o’ your cheap wit ’round here, if you value your life, young fellow!” was the emphatic reply. Th e answer was much humbler and more subdued, “Telegram, sir.” Harry answered not but jumped from his bed with the usual anxiety and curi¬ osity which we all experience upon receiving a telegram. He glanced at the clock which admitted that it was a quarter past ten, and barefooted it across the room to the door. “Le’ me see it,” he demanded. He quickly opened the envelope with hands slightly trembling, and these words struck his eye: “Am leaving New York for Europe at 4:00 P. M. today to spend summer. Wish you to accompany me. Fake next train if it arrives here before 3:30. Will meet you at Grand Central I erminal. Cannot wait. “Uncle Henry.” Harry was so stunned at receiving this from his rich uncle that he could barely focus his faculties into writing the reply: “Coming. Harry C.” This he handed to the waiting boy, adding, “Send it collect, and make it snappy!” H ow he had always longed for a glimpse at Europe—and now he was about to spend a whole summer there, if —things turned out right. 66

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RPvPRHPvNO£ 1921 “Come in!” he vociferated without so much as hesitating in his work. The door aimlessly wandered open, and a fellow junior listlessly drifted in, both as if they were wafted by the morning breeze. Upon seeing the conglomeration of paraphernalia scattered about the room and the open trunk, the inquisitive visitor casually inquired, “Whatcha doin’?” “Pullin’ taffy,—an’, le’s see, one pair pink striped pajamas, one pair o’ blue checked—” Whatcha talkin’ about—pullin taffy an’ pink pajamas?” interrupted the uncivil junior. “Where’s the taffy? Where’re you goin’? Want a stick o’ gum? —it’s Spearmint. “Aw, do me the favor of chasin’ yerself. If you’ve got to know, curiosity, its Uncle Henry an’ Europe,—an’ as I was sayin’: one pair blue checked stockings —I mean pajamas,—you worry me,—and where’d those orange ties go?” “Um,” continued our now quite interested newcomer, and not in the least abashed, “Europe and Uncle Somebody. My, my, how definite! Sounds inter¬ esting anyway. C’rp on, loosen up, what’s the big idea anyhow? I’m not good at riddles.” Harry stopped packing. My uncle, Henry Wellington Cuthbert, II, the namesake of whom am I, has decided to take me to Europe with him to spend the summer, because he liked me ever since I was knee high to a duck—also, because I named myself after him. And now that I’ve spilled the beans, if you don’t mind, old dear, you’re physically able to do me two great favors. The first is: please inform the dean and my several instructors of my circumstances, as I’ll have time only to let the dean know that I’m leaving. The second and most important favor is: beat it; or I’ll resort to force.” Harry soon discovered that he would, indeed have to “resort to force,” which he did, and was again in undisturbed peace. The next thing he decided to do was to change his apparel. Accordingly, he donned his best suit, only thrice worn before. A quarter of twelve found the huge trunk quite neatly packed, and the baggage men lugging it down the steps. They had placed it on the wagon, and Harry had started his promenade to the station, when the two men demanded, “Fifty cents, please.” Mr. Cuthbert nonchalantly put his hand into his pocket—only to grasp the lining and thin air. 68