Gnadenhutten High School - Goal Yearbook (Gnadenhutten, OH)

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THE GOAL Page Twenty-nine LITERARY The Gnadenhutten Bank early in the Fall announced their intention of presenting five dollars in gold to the high school student writing the best original story. The stories submitted were sent by Mr. Begland to Mr. Samuel Loveman and Mr. Harry E. Martin, both of Cleveland, whom he had chosen as judges. The following letter was returned with the manuscript: Cleveland, Ohio, April 20, 1923 Mr. Sam Begland, Gnadenhutten Bank, Gnadenhutten, Ohio. Dear Begland: X I want to congratulate the Gnadenhutten Schools upon the work that is being done in encouraging the literary talents of the students. Whether at home, in the profes- sions, or in business, the use of the wr-it- ten or spoken word, illuminated by a bal- CONTEST anced imagination, is a big factor in win- ning and in retaining friends and success. You may be sure that I enjoyed reading the short stories you sent me. They all show promise, and future practice and cul- tivation should bring excellent results. Therefore, I have words of praise for the writer of each manuscript sent. Which Concerns a Romance is, in Samuel Loveman's opinion as well as my own, the best story in the group. It takes precedence over the others because of its singleness of effect, its unity in point of view and characterization. It is good, too, in grammatical and rhetorical construction. I am returning the manuscripts with this letter. Best wishes to you and any inquiring friends. Sincerely yours, Harry E. Martin VVHIOH CONCERNS A ROMANCE It all started with Sally Lou. No one ever denied that. And Sally Lou being a chicken, and a dead one at that, can neith- er affirm nor deny. So we take it for granted. I first became acquainted with Sally Lou as I was about to leave Aunt Jane's farm. We were sitting on the front porch of the little gray farm house, Aunt Jane and I, watching the sun sink behind Crag Hill. Uncle Tim had gone to hitch up, and with- in 15 minutes, we would be jogging along through the glorious May night to the near- est railroad stationg whence I would catch the next train for the city. I had enjoyed one day's vacation. The current of conversation turned from sunsets to sleep. Beats all how them mosquitoes do bite, vociferated Aunt Jane. I declare, I jes' can hardly get a wink o' sleep fer the pesky critters. Why, they jes keep a-hum- min' an' buzzin' in yer ears 'till it drives ye mighty nigh franticg an' ta save me I can't see what the good Lord made 'em fer-they -, why if there ain't Sally Lou again! I followed her eyes and caught my first glimpse of her highness. She was a big yel- low Orpington, and from the way she strut- ted one could easily see that she was queen of all chickendom. Anyhow, in her own estimation. I have ta chase that hen to roost every nightj' explained Aunt Jane, indignantly. And tonight I'm jes' clear tuckered out. I've a good notion to let her go. I'd be afraid of skunk, I replied. Just watch me. I'll catch her. And I set my travelling case on the top step and started merrily. Howd'y do, Sally, I began, approaching cautiously. Clu-u-u-ck! Ready to go to bed, old lady Cluck, clu-u-ck! Well, I believe I would if I were you. You know Ben Franklin said,-you know Ben Franklin, don't you?-well, he said: early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. I-er-asup- pose that would apply to chickens, also. She ruffled her feathers and snipped at my outstretched hand. Oh now, I remonstrated soothingly, 'Tm not going to hurt you. If you'll just come along nicely now-for I don't want any trouble. But Sally Lou was of a belligerent sort of mind, and when I tried to pick her up, she skillfully eluded me and beat a hasty retreat toward the orchard. Now if there is anything on earth that rouses my ire, it is to have something slip right out of my grasp like that chicken did. And so off I went, following in her tracks, and she, perceiving my pursuit, set up such a clatter as only a hen can make, and re- doubled her speed. So did I.

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Page Twenty-eight THE GOAL DEBATERS LEFT TO RIGHT-Dorothy Gilmore, Franiis Nussbaum, Alma Kinsey, Albert Sind- linger Cstandingl, John Gray, Edward Milliken. DEBATES Rah! Rah! Rah! D-e-b-a-t-e-r-s! We the students of G. H. S. certainly feel that we have a right to cheer for our debaters, first because they are among the best debaters in the State: second, because they can beat any other debaters in the county when it comes to a show-down. Do you know that out of the ten inter' school debates in which our school has par- ticipated we have won nine? For four years a silver loving cup has been awarded to the school having the best debaters, and for two years Gnadenhutten has held it, and quite fully have we decided to take first place again next year, then the silver cup will be our permanent possession to help adorn our own little trophy case. The inter-school debates this year were held on April 6th, The question being, Re- solved, That the Open Shop is to the best interests of the American People. There were two triangular debates, Tuscarawas, Strasburg and Gnadenhutten forming one triangle, while Mineral City, Bolivar and Sugar Creek-Shanesville formed the other. Our negative team, Edward Milliken, John Gray and Albert Sindlinger Calternatej, re- mained at home to defeat Strasburg in an animated debate with a score 303 to 285, While our affirmative team, Dorothy Gil- more, Francis Nussbaum, and Alma Kinsey falternatej, went to Tuscarawas to deprive them of their long-hoped for victory with a score of 306 to 297, thus Gnadenhutten be- came the victor of the T.-S.-G. triangle. were now ready to combat with the We winners of the other triangle, had it not been for the fact that a. week before the debates the principals and superintendents decided to eliminate the final debate this year, and award the cup to the school hav- ing the highest score on the night of the triangular debates thus Mineral City, due to the fact that she scored high in one de- bate, became the proud possessor of the silver cup. But beware Mineral City! Gnadenhutten is not out of the game yet. -Alma Kinsey

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Page Thirty THE GOAL We ran around the barn twice, into the corn crib by one door and out by another, once around the berry shanty, once through a young wheat field, over a woodpile twice and around the pig pen the same number of times. We jumped the stream of water that flowed from the spring, climbed the same fence three times, and finally when we were both well onto exhaustion, made a final reckoning in the coal shed. It was hard to say which was the more nearly breathless-the hen or I. It is likewise dif- ficult to relate which was the more indig- nant. Suffice to say, then, that I caught Sally Lou, and when I returned to Aunt Jane, my hat had a crazy angle and my whole apparel more or less bespattered with mud. I wasn't exactly surprised to find tears rolling down her face. Still laughing, she wiped her eyes with her apron and turned to Uncle Tim who stood nearby with the buggy. Take Sally and kill her, she gasped between laughs, 'tand Martha can take her home to Nell. I reckon she'n be glad enough to get it, and it will be interestin' eatin' if Martha tells how she caught it. And that was why Uncle Tim, chuckling, disappeared around the corner of the house with Sally Lou tucked safely under his arm. Shortly, he returned and placed a basket in my hands. I wrung her neck, he explained. 'tl 'low she won't make you run that way agin soon. An hour later, I boarded the crowded train, homeward bound. The basket con- taining Sally proved to be heavy. And I was just about on the verge of loosing my patience because I perceived I would have to stand, when a young man, sitting near the middle of the car, rose and proffered his seat. Thankful from the bottom of my heart, I smiled, murmured appreciation, and accepted it, placing the basket on my lap. And that was the first mistake. I should have set it on the floor and stuck my feet on top of it. We were perhaps five miles from the city limits when the trouble began. Two men, occupying the seat directly in front of me, were swapping stories. It was down in Georgia, the one was saying, while his companion puffed content- edly at a cigar. Bill and I were on the way to Atlanta on a business trip and had to spend one night in a small town hotel. I tell you George, I'll never forget that night as long as I live. It got cold 'long about midnight-cold as blazes. And there weren't enough covers in the room to keep a cat warm. The window was broken out, and the whole place just alive with bed- bugs. Why, you couldntt even sit down but what they'd crawl up the legs of the chair and onto you. I tell you- He stopped precipitately. For with a dis- mal squawk and a mighty effort, a hen rose from under the paper that covered my bas- ket and light fairly and squarely on his head! Sally Lou had revived! It is altogether probable that Sally wasn't used to riding on trains. And it is altogether probable that the gentlemen in front of me wasn't accustomed to chickens perching on his head. Anyhow, for a mo- ment, the sudden and unp1'e1neditated pres- ence of one in that place seemed to as- tound him. His mouth dropped open, his face assumed a frantic expression, and Sal- ly Lou stretched her neck and crowed! That broke the tension. The crowded car with one accord broke into laughter-that is, with three exceptions, the man, Sally Lou, and I. I was far too flustered to do anything but stare, and he was too utterly dumbfounded to move. I don't profess to know anything about her. I shouldn't have been the least surprised if she had laughed with the rest-a wild, demoniacal laughter. But she didn't. Half fearfully, the man extended a cau- tious hand to remove the fowl on his head- and that was the second mistake. He should have left her alone. With a hair raising screech she went, half flying, half hopping, over the peoples' heads, on 'emiknocking indignant ladies' hats askew, completely removing some men's, and finally, perched on the hat rack at the far end of the car, she regarded us all with beady eyes, stretched her neck and crowed again, I have known embarrassment in my life. I have known how it feels to have the eyes of scores of people riveted on a blun- der of mine. But never in all my life have I been more embarrassed than I was then. Should I claim the chicken and try to re- cover it? Or let the blamed thing stay? Should I apologize to the gentleman or should I choose an easier route and go into a nice lady-like faint? While I was debating the question in my mind and staring confusedly at the chick- en, the young man who had given me his seat loomed into the horizon. I had recov- ered enough to note that he was very hand- some. He walked past, straight to the cor- ner where the wretched bird had flown, and climbed up on the seat beneath her. She squawked and escaped his grasp. That was the third mistake. Chickens of Sally's