Hamburg High School - Echoes Yearbook (Hamburg, NY)

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heavier and had raised a handsome mustache. We made arrangements for another meeting-we were both in too much of a hurry to talk now. He was very busy doing his sculpturing. He was modeling a bust of the late Ben Turpin. My poor hat, on reaching the street, was made cousin to the pancake by a Ford touring car. The driver was so engrossed in watching a pretty girl cross the street that he saw neither my hat nor the shingle with a nail in it. Poor fellow! He had no spare. I entered a hat store and purchased a handsome headgear. This time l used the cord. l put it snugly through the button hole on my lapel. At 6:30 l was leaving for Buffalo. l went back to my lodgings, ate sup- per and packed my grip. l hailed a taxi rather than ride in the stuffy subway. New York Central, pleasef' l directed the driver. Yes, sirf' he answered, as l climbed in. Could I ever forget that twang? Hey, Boulton, let me ride in the front seat. Harold was quite a man. He drove as if he were part of the car, just the way he did when he drove Lizzie from Boston to Hamburg. At last l boarded my train. As l was waiting for my berth to be made, a young lady carrying a violin case saunterecl clown the aisle. l gazed in- tently at her. Was she not familiar? Yes, l knew her! It was Evelyn Tooley. She had gained huge success on the stage with her Strad.,' The following morning I left the train without seeing Miss Tooley again. She was still asleep. From the station l went to the offices of the Buffalo Evening News. l was ushered into the E.ditor's office with welcome. l had important business. The Editor-great guns-it was Milton Faulring! He gave nine rahs and a Hamburg I did a hand stand. At this moment, his stenographer entered. She was a pretty girl-and why not? She was Julia Gannon. That afternoon I walked down Main Street, recognizing old land marks and sights I had seen when a lad in high school. As I neared the Hippo- drome, l noted a dainty sign swinging overhead. Clara Rice's Beauty Parlors. I rushed in-but Miss Rice was not there. She was out lunching with a young lawyer named Shoemaker-so the accommodating girl at the mani- cure table told me. On I walked down the busy street, gazing in all the showy windows, and watching the pretty girls stroll by. l became rather thirstyg the sun was blazing hot, and dust settled here and there on the sidewalks-making my throat quite dry. I entered Huyler's-for a cool drink. To my astonishment, the girl to whom l gave the order was Olive Agle. She beckoned to Doris Hickman. What service they gave me! These two girls and Ethel Kohl had purchased Huyler's circuit in Buffalo. Ethel was at this time at store No. 4 on Delaware. That evening I went to Shea's. How it had changed! It was now larger than l..oew's was back in 'ZZ. The first four acts were fair-but the fifth 26

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0115155 Hruphvrg All the world's a symphony, so 'tis said-and such is the case with the class of '22, This brilliant company has been one great concert for the in- structors. Often times the pitch has been low and some instruments seemingly dead, but with the assistance of outside persuasion, there has been a thump- ing, now soft on one, now louclg a drubbing and a thwackingg tuning up and tuning down. And all for the same purpose, as the director in the orchestra, to give rounclness and finish to the notes in the whole joyous symphony. Per- haps the most fascinating sight in an orchestra is the man who plays the kettle drums-as such, perhaps we might portray the Latin instructor-only the kindest feelings intended-for who has to exhibit greater patience-a hump here and a thumping there. Some ever so lightly, but always a regular, persistent beating until the grand climax is reached-the Regents! There are many subjects to be prepared-some clirges, other marches-now and then a Spring Songs floats in. Occasionally one note is too loud-for instance, French, Goemetry or Chemistry. That jars the whole. This is the first measure. l sat musing in my studio and as my thoughts wandered, l pictured every Senior in the years to come. I-low it thrilled me--how it awecl me! And yet it may be true! l was turning the corner at 42nd and Broadway, CI had just left my apartmentj, when a finely dressed gentleman bumped squarely into me. lVly hat flew off and bounded merrily to the curb. What a fine hoop a straw hat makes! l couldnit have sent it better if l had wanted to. The other victim of the bump lost a fine i'Blenheim cigar and dropped his polished cane. We apologized, as is the custom, and as he picked up his walking stick l caught a full view of his profile. lVly stars, it was Jim Weller! The last l had heard of him he had gone out west. That was way back in l923. He had grown 25

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one! That was a ringer! Two saxophones-you know the rest. lVlose Crooker and George Pierce. How they played! Da, da, di, dum! l ap- plauded them time and again. They were wonderful! lVlose still had his laugh, and George had his simple, toothless smile. Later, l learned that lVlose went on the stage after leaving school, but that George had taught geometry for three years before he entered the lime light. The seventh act was a roar! The hero was a clown-he wore a brown derby and made the orchestra laugh! He looked cross-eyed and shook his curly shock of hair only as one lad can do it. Same old Dan Connell. At l0:50 l boarded the train for Washington. The next morning at 7:30 l ate breakfast in the beautiful Union Station. About 8:30 I was driven to the George Washington lnn, the very place where we seniors stayed when in Washington, Easter l922. At noon l walked up around the capitol and came face to face with Dorothy Potter, Lillian Dominski and Leah Haberer. All were Congresswomen. Leah wore a sparkling diamond. Blushing, she uttered: Milton Faulringf' l learned from these young ladies that l-larold Weiss now owned the Congressional Library. It contained 57,000,000 volumes of the best books in the country. As l was walking back to the hotel that afternoon, l was greeted by the beaming face of Bud Colvin. No-he did not own a dozen garages as might be expected-he was merely a Senator. ln one hand he carried a law book and in the other a wrench. Just fixing the car, said he. Had he changed any? That night l left for Chicago. My journey, though long, was uneventful. l attended to my business the first thing and had the afternoon to myself. On passing by Marshal Fields l saw a finely dressed young lady ad- miring the spring styles displayed in the windows. With her was a tall gentle- man with spectacles. lsn't that a beauty, Tom? Ruth Brodbeck!-and her husband, Tom Sawyer, the novelist. We had a very short chat. Mr. Sawyer was on his way to The Netherlands. f'le intended to write a book on The l'lohenZollern's Siesta. After supper l was reading the Tribune, with all its scandal and crime. On the first page l read an interesting account of a daring sea diver and how he had killed a mammoth octapus in 4,000 feet of water. l-lis name was Douglass, Douglass--yes, it was my old friend, Marshall Douglass! The following morning, while walking through Lincoln Park, l noticed a tree surgeon at work on a beautiful maple that had cracked. I-le was cer- tainly a first-class mender. Neat wires and layers of cement were carefully placed in the broken places. At this moment he dropped his trowel' from the ladder. l stepped forward and picked it up. I-le descended and took the trowel, thanking me for my kindness. Of all things, Ed. Spieszln l shouted. Ed. was now a famous tree doctor. Years ago he had wanted to be a forester-but tree splinting suited him best. 27