Humboldt High School - Life Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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Doctor, Billy began slowly, Doctor, do you know that there is a place just a few block up the street where they keep dogs that nobody wants? And Doctor, just think, they kill those beautiful dogs! But what else could they do with them, Billy? he asked the lad. Do with them! Why they could find homes for them. If people knew about those dogs I bet they'd take them quick enough. Just then a bright light shown through the darkness, a large car drew up before the hospital, the door of the tonneau opened, and a young girl jumped out. She ran up the hospital steps gaily, then, seeing the pair, went over to them. Oh Jack, she said merrily, here you are. And is that you, Billy? lt's so dark I can't see a thing. Hurry along. l'm going to take you out to dinner. Then, noticing the earnest expressions on their faces, she inquired, What's up now? Well, sis, the doctor explained, Billy is down on the present system of exterminating tramp dogs. He thinks that each dog should be provided with a home and a family. What do you think about it? Ann I-liland looked first at her brother and then at Billy. I don't know what to think, she said finally. ul-low many dogs are there, Billy? Only seventy-five, and oh, Miss Annf' he pleaded, don't you really think there's some way of finding homes for them? Just think, they'll all be killed if we don't. Then an inspiration came to Billy. Miss Annf' he said excitedly, maybe some of your rich friends would like to take 'em? Ann looked amused at this outburst, then suddenly became thoughtful. Billy,'i she said mysteriously, ul have an idea. The next evening at ten o'clock the huge veranda of the l-liland's sum- mer home was hung with Japanese lanterns, The place was alive with beauti- fully gowned women and successful appearing men, all very gay and happy. ln a secluded part of the veranda, Ann Hiland was sitting in a wicker chair. It was here that the doctor found her. His eyes were laughing, but his words were serious. Ann, he said gravely, the thing has worked after all. The lottery tickets went like wildfire, and the drawing begins in a few minutes. Come on over and watch the fun. lt'll be great to see some of Billy's 'swells' try to baby mongrelsf' l'm ready, Ann replied, waving her fan lazily. The poor dears don't know thev are about to become the masters and mistresses of unpedigreed mongrels, but I know that they are all too good sports not to keep what they get. But come, let's hurry or we'll miss all the fun. An hour later there was a conference of the 'big four.' Ann, the doctor said, that was the brightest idea you ever had. It provided seventy dogs. doomed to die, with homes, and it has made a certain little newsy supremely happy. Ann looked mischievous. The fun of watching the 'five hundred' re- ceive the additions to their select dog families was worth all the trouble, she said. Billy cuddled close among the cushions of his chair, and gazed happily at the others. Those people don't know how lucky they are to own a real dog instead of a puff of white wool that can't even fight. Gee, it worked swell, didn't it? And Wag and me is darn happy, arenit We, Wag? And Wag contentedly wagged his tail in agreement. Dorothy l-losking. NINE

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A RAID ON THE DOG POUND. Gee, mister, the little boy turned his freckled face up to the pound master wistfully, Gee, where'd ya get all them dogs? The man glanced curiously at the lad, and, continuing to throw meat to the dogs, answered, They're tramp dogs, strays that nobody wants. Nobody wants 'emlu Billy Murphy, aged nine, and a devoted lover of dogs, gasped and blinked his eyes in amazement. lVlister! he cried gxcitedly. I want 'em. Will you give 'em to me? All of them beautiful ogs Questioningly the man regarded him. Then, seeing the earnestness on the boy's face, burst into laughter. Crazy kidl Do you think you could feed seventy-five dogs on a newsy's earnings? l guess not. Evidently this item of expense had not occurred to Billy. Of course he couldn't feed them on only seventy-five cents a day. To own a dog, the dream of his life which had seemed so close to being realized, was now shattered., Tears came slowly into his blue yes, and his lips trembled danger- ously. Noticing this, the pound master realized how deeply disappointed the little lrish lad was, and cheerfully suggested that maybe he could feed one. It was a beautiful thought. Billy's face instantly brightened. Of course he could manage it some way. Well, Sonny, take your pick, the pound master said kindly. l gotta get my own supper now, so hurry. Don't I have to pay anything? Billy inquired. Only a dollar for a clog license, was the answer. H A whole dollar! Billy reached into his pocket and pulled out seventy- five cents, If that was given way it meant that he must wait still longer for a pair of shoes, and go without his supper and breakfast. But what a small sacrifice it was to make to realize the dream of his life. Here, he said. I'll bring the rest in tomorrow. Perhaps the man realized the sacrifice that was being made, for he agreed to let Billy take the dog that night. It was only a mongrel, but mongrel though he was, his eyes spoke love for his new master, After a great deal of friendship making on the part of both, they started for home. Say, Billy asked as they were leaving, what'll happen to all those other dogs? Oh, we stick them in that little house over there, and pull the leverg in five minutes they've sprouted wings and flown away to dog heaven, the man replied. Billy gasped. Aw, mister, he said softly, you-you don't mean you kill 'emi-V' Sure, the man responded cheerfully. lt's the best we can do for them, Better run along now. lt's getting late. Goodbye, Billy said dully, and stumbled off into the darkness. So they killed them! Killed those beautiful dogs with their pleading eyes and wagging tails. Something must be done, and done quickly, and it was up to him, Billy Murphy, to do it. It was ten o'clock, and Billy and Wag, as the dog had been christened, were waiting patiently on the steps of the Bowery Hospital. It mattered little that it was raining, or that they had been waiting for two hours without any supper, for Billy was sure of his reward. Bye and bye the heavy door swung open, and a young man came out. He was surprised to feel a small hand slipped into his, and to hear a choked voice say, Doctor, can l talk to you for a few minutes? You can talk to me for as many minutes as you like, Billy, the young doctor answered kindly. Then, as he noticed Billv's tear-stained face, he continued, Why, my dear fellow, what is the trouble? EIGHT

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LUNCH TIME just five more minutes and then the grand rush for the lunch room. I get my book ready, put my feet in the aisle, and wait for the sweet buzz of the bell. But all of a sudden a stern voice intrudes and says, Books off your desks, get your papers out, and write. Question one: All the presidents of the United States. At this the class lets out the groan that is heard in every classroom when the teacher assigns a lesson of five or six pages. But to this the teacher pays no attention, and before we finish the question, Question two, sounds the 'voice in the same heartless tone, One more minute before the bell rings, and two more questions to write. Br-r-r-ing, goes the bell, but no attention can be paid to it for there is one more question to be written. How that pencil does travel, stopping only to scratch out a word that is misspelled. There, I burst out a sigh of relief. At last l've finished. I rush up to the teacher's desk, toss the paper upon it, and stride to the door. Come back here, echoes that voice more sternly than ever, and erase those blotches if you clon't want me to take five off. Hlncleed I will, I say to myself, for I answered only four questions, and I can't afford to make my mark any Iower. After going through all this torture I no longer have the heart to run to the lunch room, as I had first intended to do, but proceed Iifelessly clown to my Iocker. Richard Busch '22, LATE AGAIN Eight-thirty and yourself arrive together at the top of the long, sloping hill on which Humboldt is situated. As you reach the summit, you hear the soft tinkle of the room bells which immediately precedes the resounding crash of the tardy gong. Visions of Miss How and blue slips fill your mind, and, with a last desperate effort you make the remaining hundred yards in less than nothing, flat. You reach the door just as the sound of the gong echoes through the halls, empty now save for a few belated and unlucky students like yourself. After a hurried search for your key, you finally get your coat into the locker, and make a dash for the study hall. Entering cautiously, you sneak along the book shelves and seize an encyclopedia from its resting place. You look through the pages and then take a sidelong look in the direction of Miss Hoffman. She is looking at you curiously. The cold sweat stands out on your brow as you wait for the sum- mons. It comes at once, and in less time than it takes to tell it, you are on your way to the office. Miss I-Iow, the grim dispenser of slips, blue and otherwise, is seated behind her oak desk. As you enter, she glares at you from behind huge. bone-rimmed glasses. You make known the cause of your presence, and with trained fingers she goes through her files. Then she says, UI can't do anything for you as you have been late three times already. You will have to see Doctor Little. Sit down! You sit, Earl Engelbretson '2l. THE IVIOOCHER'S CLUB Ting-a-ling! Ting-a-ling! You may have heard this sound before. If you have, you will readily know its meaning. For the benefit of those who are not familiar with it, I will explain. At I-Iumboldt High School bells of a low degree of efficiency are used. I mean by a low degree of efficiency that TEN