Fredericksburg High School - Rapahanoc Yearbook (Fredericksburg, VA)

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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

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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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After he had made a thorough search of every real and imaginary pocket in his suit, it dawned upon him that his fifty-one cents and railroad ticket were nest¬ ling comfortably in the pocket of his old suit, which happened to be in the very bottom of his trunk. “CENSORED!!!” ejaculated Mr. Cuthbert, who was quite perturbed, to say the least. The baggage men did not seem to be at all shocked or even disturbed at our angry hero’s language, but only insisted, “This ’ere cart don’t move, she don’t, ’till we gits our fo’ bits.” “But what am I goin’ to do?” entreated Harry, pathetically. “It’s in the bottom of the trunk!” “Sure, an’ we’re lavin’ that to yeself to decide,” was all the sympathy or advice that they lavished upon him. “Lissen,” began Harry a little more hopefully, “I haven’t got time to unpack it here, for the train leaves in less than fifteen minutes; but le’me go to the station in the wagon with you and unpack the trunk on the way there. It’s the only way, and a trip abroad depends upon it. How about it?” he ended, plaintively. “There’s a tip in it for you,” he added, remembering that the trunk contained fifty- one cents, and the drayage charge was only fifty cents. It might seem stingy, but this was a case of necessity. Upon the mention of a tip both of the baggage men agreed; so Harry leaped into the wagon and the party started merrily for the station. Now it happened that this was the very time when all of Mr. Cuthbert’s friends, both male and female, were returning from “down town” to the college for dinner; and it was fated that the hard-hearted wagon driver was to pass right through the most frequented streets—and so he did. But Harry had no time to let his mind dwell upon what people might think and say about him; he just threw things right and left, forward and backward out of his trunk. There was Gladys Lacey, his best girl-friend, being escorted by his rival. Snoop Edwards; and both seemed to enjoy the scene thoroughly. Now he passed his surprised Latin professor who had always been impressed with Henry’s quiet, bashful manners. Now the wagon was in the business section of the town; it was detained in blocked traffic for about half a minute, but in that time a rather large crowd had collected thinking, probably, that it was witnessing some sort of free show. At last the traffic was unblocked and they were en route again. 69