Horace Mann High School - Memories Yearbook (Maryville, MO)

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CLASS PROPHECY Prof. Frank E. Babb I had spent many sleepless nights worrying about the perfection of my snimativs. And now, at last, it was ready to be tested on a human being! Because I wantedit tested in complete secrecy, the only reliable subject was myself. I swallowed the pill hurriedly to prevent any change of thought which might render me unwilling to sacrifice myself to posin- terity. Knowing that it would be several hours before Ifelt the effect of the pill, I lay down on the couch to res t. I don't know how long I had been lying there when some inner force caused me to open my eyes. I found myself in a strange environment. An apparently metallic road stretched before me bearing a sign which reads Ten Klopsandahop to Venus City. I must have gone about a mile when flseveral buildings which were every imaginable shape loomed into view Ono building in particular caught my fancy, and while I was gazing at its grotesque shape the door opened. A familiar figure stepped outside. Much too my astonishment I saw it was Madonna Pigg. She told me that after she and Don Brewer were married that had gone to Venus to raise zowlyps f??I. Not only were they zowlyp growers but the largest in the un- iver-se. If my calculations were accurate, I knew I wasn't fvsrtoo far from Venus City. As I neared the out-skirts of the city aw large shooting star passed over my head with a gigantic neon sign advertising Brodrick's Fly-Inn Restaurant. Could it be VonCile'? My suspicions were confirmed by a laugh. I followed the sound of the laughter until I came to 'fVonCile. She said that she started her career by working in various restaurants in Maryville. As I stepped out of the door of her restaurant a strong gust of wind hit me. For a few seconds I couldn't seeg when the dust cleared, an entirely new scene greeted my vision. Suddenly I heard a loud zoom. I quickly stepped back a few paces. Luckily I did for just then four jet-propelled cars, in close pursuit, whi zzed by and disappeared on the distant horizon. I wiped my brow with shaky hands as I took one step forward. But I wasn't to go far. Another one of those mon- strosities was on the way. It was chugging along about 399 7f8 mph, when I caught a glimpse of the driver's name one that sounded familiar--Hanna, Man of Mars. I didn't get a chance to talk to him for just then a blinding flash of lightning came from nowhere. When I could see again, there was a hot, glaring sun shining steadily into nyeyes. Glanc- ing slowly around all I could see was a dense jungle. I started walking in the blistering humid heat, but I had no idea in what direction. Suddenly I felt the groundtremble

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under my feet. I stepped back but too late. Down I went in- to a deep, dark trap. Pcndering my fate, II heard voices. nBe careful, he's a wild oneln 'Hold this sideg all right now, all togetheran Slowly I was raised to the top of the pit. A shout of amazement and consternation went up when my form came into view. I blinked and looked aroundg the first man I saw was, of all people, Alan Garrison. The mutual recognition was almwc lhstsntaneous. After 'a few inquiries, Alan led me back to his camp. On the way, he explained that he was a taxidermist on an expedition trapping wild game for the Museum of Natural Arts. When I arrived in camp who should I see seated there but Charlie Doran. I immediately assumed that he was following his great ambiti on--to become a Wild- life Conservation Agent. Upon question I learned he was pre- serving parakeets. After a few days rest, I was takento the boat going to North America. At last I was going home! In a few days and after what seemed like a long journey, we docked. As I walked down the gang plank I could I' hardly believe my eyes which revealed a scene identical to that which I had left. I asked a hurrying dock hand where I was. nwhy South Africa, Sirin- and he continued on his way. I went into a small office building to ask about passage to the U. S. After waiting sometime for someone to appear, I turned dejectedly and sat down in a chair. I heard footsteps and a surprised voice exclaiming. nwell Mr. Babb of all peopleln Turning to see who would recognize me in a foreign country, I saw Twyla McFarland! We exchanged a few pleasant- ries and I learned that she had become a Missionary in South Africa trying to civilize the Cannibals and Headhunters .' I was assured without asking that she had encountered many thrilling escapades. I planned to stay for two weeks. But that night when I went to bed it began to tremble and shake until I had to clutch the sides to keep from falling out. As suddenly as it started, it stopped. Whenl openedmy eyes, which I had closed in terror, Ivsaw that it was daylight. I glanced curiously around deducting that I was on a ranch. A sudden pounding of hoofs and I saw a dashing figure on a sparkling white horse. He pulled rein beside me and said. nCan't you read, 'No Trespassing'?n I lboked up amazedland recognized Wayne Gard, owner of the Bar-None ranch. The freezing temperature was certainly a change from the hot, humid tropics. Wayne has just Started telling me about his career and all the time the cold became