Glass High School - Crest Yearbook (Lynchburg, VA)

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Che Critic-Crest . 1934 “But—but who are you?” gasped the bewildered cobbler. “I can’t talk about family affairs to anyone I’ve never even seen, can I?” A low chuckle sounded through the shop. “How childish you are, to be sure! When you have lived as many years as I have, you'll realize that what you don’t know won’t hurt you. But if you’re going to be stubborn—just like a man !—I’ll try to arrange matters so that I can take visible form. I warn you, though, that you may be disappointed. Most people are.” So Ed stood. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. Then suddenly an- other chuckle greeted him. “If you’d just turn around—” He turned. “After all,’ he consoled himself, “I may be dreaming!” “No, you’re not dreaming,” the woman answered. Ed at first had thought she was very old, but now he wasn’t sure. She seemed young with a sad-glad sort of youth, and she was dressed in the strangest garments! There were a great many scarfs tied around her neck, all new and bright at one end; but each fluttering rag drifted down to the hem of her dress, and somewhere along the way got soiled and bedraggled. It gave Mr. Ed a queer feeling to see all those gallant colors marching into dreariness at her shabbily covered feet. A very strange woman, truly. She sat there, with her restless hands crossed in her lap, smiling at Ed out of her old-young eyes. “You are not only rude, my boy, but very ungrateful also,” she finally in- formed him. “You have been blessed with the best of daughters, and yet you say she is not worth her weight in shoe leather.” After which rebuke, his visitor frowned heavily and sighed, “You really should be punished, you know.” Ed raised one eyebrow. “And you needn’t be impudent about it,” she continued. “I’m the one who can take you down a peg or two. You don’t have the faintest idea who I am, do you?” “No’m,” answered Ed, and began to feel scared. “But you’ve heard of me,” and the little lady puffed up with importance. “If you must know, I’m the Old Woman Who Lived in the Shoe!” Ed pinched himself and said, “Ouch!” “And yet my children are all barefoot,” the creature continued. Ed shut his eyes and then slowly opened them, very cautiously. Yes, she was still there. “So I think I'll leave them with you for awhile.” This was too much. He would have to tell this upstart just what he thought of the whole silly business. “Why yes indeed, you) must!’ His tone was ironic. “You know if there’s anything I can do to help—I always say a few children around the place help to keep the dust down!” But the old woman was already at the door. “Wouldn’t you like to meet them?” she gushed. “They’re really too darling when you get to know them! They have lovely manners.’ Turning aside, she yelled so suddenly that Ed de- 12

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193 he Critic-Crest Chapter 1 7 @ Rk. Ed U. Cayshun was very proud of his sign. He hadn't been sure at first that he could have a sign, but the Board had decided that. Immediately § he had hung it in front of his shop, so that everyone could see that he was now a reputable citizen. It read thusly: E. C. GLASS SHOE SHOPPE Plain and Fancy Work Done While You Wait Not Responsible for Work Left in Shop for More Than Five Years Just now Ed was not thinking of his sign. Instead he was hammering away at a tattered little red boot, his mouth full of tacks and imprecations. “Why,” he mumbled, “‘must people be so careless?” He almost wept. “Here I am with only one child in the world, and yet I can’t keep her in shoes. If only she wouldn't insist on seesawing! Oh, but Ambition is a tiresome child! She has swung on the gate all her life, and I guess she'll keep it up. Never be it said that I’m a selfish father, but I would like a little time of my own to make some pin money.” With this Ed collapsed upon a rickety chair and made great moan. You see he had forgotten about the tacks, and as a consequence, the last vestige of his good humour was punctured. When the offending articles had been duly ejected, he settled down again to mourn. But this time he was interrupted by a strange voice which remarked somewhat sharply, “You're very rude, I must say.” Of course Ed jumped. What would you have done? His mother had always taught him to stand in the presence of ladies, and he arose with wonder writ large on his countenance. Everything was very well managed, except that he couldn’t see this particular lady at all. She was just a voice, and now she continued in the same sprightly manner. “You seem depressed, Ed. What’s the trouble?” 1]

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1934 Che Critic-Crest cided to sit down before he fell down, “Soup’s on!!!” The cry went ringing out the door and down the hillside. It rolled out into the open field, broke a board in Mr. Ed’s pet pigpen, and Ed shuddered to see the confusion. From all sides of the structure poured children—little ones, big ones, fat ones, thin ones—and every one barefoot. They scampered over Mrs. Ed’s favorite flower bed and, via the rose garden, poured into the little room. “Tust look at them!” His visitor pointed with pride to her brood. “Of course that story about my not knowing what to do with them is all tommyrot. They can tell you I’m the best mother they ever had. But, as I said, they’re all in need of shoes, and I’m getting a little seedy myself—Oh, dear me! I’m afraid your mirror won't be much good now. Are you superstitious? But of course not! Men haven't the delicacy. “Well, I’d better introduce the darlings. You know how impatient children can be.”” The impossible creature completely ignored his mirror, broken in two places by one of the little varmints. Now nobody in the house would be able to see himself as others saw him. No doubt the “darlings” had done it on purpose. He was snatched out of his reverie by a peremptory tug at his arm. “These are my eldest children.” Was this person really serious? She had lined up all the mob, in order of their age, it would seem, and now she chattered gaily on. “These children need the strongest shoes, if you please. They have the most work to do, and they’re going on a long, hard journey soon. You won't have so much trouble with them. They’re notoriously dignified.” With these words she reached out her hand to a long line of gawky beings who were attempting to look unconcerned. The first thing Ed noticed was that some of them had eyebrows lost in their hair, and some of the girls had no eye- brows at all. The younger children gazed at the older group enviously ; but if they had only known it, there really wasn’t so much difference between them in Ed’s eyes. iia Most of the Senior children gave their host a passing glance, and some stopped to chat with him for a moment; while still others never even heard the old woman as she introduced them. Katherine Mundy, of course, talked a great deal, and the cobbler was considerably cheered by her stories. To think that he had never known the world was coming to an end shortly! What a smart girl she must be! No sooner had she walked away, leaning for support on Louise Walkup, than Ed turned around to meet Henry Nase. But oh! The poor boy merely stood there staring at the ceiling, and shouting, “Five dollars, ten dollars, fifteen, twenty !”’ The old woman winked at him and tapped her head. “He’s not dangerous,” she whispered. ‘“‘He’s always been loud and noisy like that. He’s been treasurer so often that he goes haywire unless he has some lovely green federal lettuce for lunch.” 13