Fredericksburg High School - Rapahanoc Yearbook (Fredericksburg, VA)

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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

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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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Now a traffic cop tried to pinch them for a triumvirate of lunatics, but an explanation released them. Finally, they were nearing the station. 1 hey had passed out of the business section and were driving by a row of apartment houses—in an instant every window was thrown open and it seemed that thousands of heads (mostly female!) were thrust out. They did not know whether the rapidly passing vehicle, pulled by two galloping horses, wherein a young man was madly chucking the contents out of a trunk, was some new kind of advertisement or the workings of a German spy—at any rate they were inter¬ ested. But, although our little friend Flarry was exceedingly bashful and hated publicity, he just buried his head deeper into the trunk--and dug. It may seem ridiculous that everything should have to be taken out of the trunk to reach the bottom, but the reader will please know that the trunk was very large and contained an extra tray at the bottom, in which was the desired suit. Consequently, it was necessary to remove the entire contents in order to open the said tray. Finally, however, they reached the station and the train was due in thirty seconds; so our desperate young gentleman got one of his chauffeurs to help him dump the trunk over, and at last Harry caught up the much desired suit of clothes. He took up the coat of the suit and reached expectantly into its inside pocket; it was empty! He searched fruitlessly every other pocket in the coat, and was about to give up in despair, when he remembered that in his haste he had stuffed the ticket and cash into his pants pocket. Now the train came rushing into the station, and stopped with the usual squeaks, wheezes, puffings, and accompanying noises. After a short hunt Henry Wellington Cuthbert III found the breeches and finally grasped the much-needed ticket and fifty-one cents. He frantically began to pitch, hurl, and fling the articles back into the trunk aided by the two slow and indifferent draymen. There were still quite a few things left out when the conductor cried, “All aboard!” “Not yet!” puffed Harry. But the train was already preparing to move. “Better shove ’er on an’ lave thim other things out, kiddo,” advised one of his assistants, sagaciously. Accordingly, Mr. Cuthbert made one last grab at the articles which still remained outside of the trouble-causing trunk, placed what he caught up on top of the already high pile of clothes—high because this last time they were not 7 o