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

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HUMBOLDT LIFE Some Folks Study BY FRANCES ERLING R. BILLING, may I go to my locker? Mr. Billing, how do you spell emancipation? Mr. Billing, may I change my seat? Many are the students in Mr. Bill- ing's kingdom, and many are their at- titudes. First there are the studious people. They are absorbed in their tasks, they realize the value of time: they are the perfect students who cast those sneer- ing glances at the noise makers. They are the ones who accomplish things. They get good marks while in school and really know something when they graduate. Another type are those who are al- ways doing some errand for some teacher. They enter and leave the study hall with a look of importance and also much noise. Another set are the dreamers. It is true they leave their books open before them, yes, open, but yet unseen. By some trick they find a multitude of at- tractions outside or in the rear of the study hall. They are usually eaves- droppers on conversations. Mr. Billing, did you find a good Parker pen? Mr. Billing then looks again, as he has many times that day, through a sorry lot of broken fountain pens, worn out overshoes, gloves, and pocket books with a few cents in them. He is very sorry, but nothing like that has been turned in. Yes, he'll let you know if it is. Miss How's visits are also a source of interest to the dreamers. 'lHave you seen Harold Zavotsky? queries Miss How. Mr. Billing sighs as he says No, He fears for the worst. Page Eight W . 4117 ? I-I ' ,f , , f 4940 ,A ati' MR. 821 We l, r X 1 ' Q N I N E is :IQ img., ! mvoamarionx l 0 - 9, M ' i A C' N ,M , 1 f - Jax' H, N , - , i 5,951 N 'W fs ilfflilgr If ,, Hg V' i I 4 Si Q Li, I Q XZ I il .iw f f V 4 Y fl' '- Ii. AA v 'lil' fi -L ' I 5 - Af r 'ga 1. gg f g- bf fu' ' i c Of course, in the study hall as in every other place, pests exist. These, perhaps, are the reasons for Mr. Billing's weary, haggard look as he trudges out of the school at twenty minutes past two. The pests, I think, may be di- vided into four classes: locker fiends, athletes, interrogators, and those who would study together. The locker fiends spend three-fourths of the period trying to think of some- thing they could possibly get from their private cubby-holes. After they re- ceive permission, as they sometimes do, they wander about in the halls, go to their lockers and get some book, and return to the study hall in about flve minutes. They wonder sometimes why permission to leave is not always granted them. Mr. Billing, I need a pair of tennis, or I can't play in that game tonight. The athletes who need a pair of ten- nis, or perhaps some piece of football equipment, are a source of trouble and interest. They are a trouble to Mr. Billing and an interest to the students. You see, anything to divert attention from books is welcomed 'by those who are not studying but are'lwasting time. Mr. Billing, what's wrong with this sentence? Miss Heinemann told us there was something wrong math it, and it must be so.

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HUMBOLDT LIFE had cracked through a window, splin- tered a bird house roof out in the yard and sped its way through the basement window of a neighbors house to shat- ter a bulb, ricochet off the furnace, and smash the lock on the door, little harm was done. The Redwyns decided to call it a day when they built a bonfire of perfumed letters in the back yard that evening. It is said that the local museum has added an old Colt's 45 pistol to its fire arm exhibit, but I haven't had time to see for myself as yet. l Dropping-Dropping LL during the period Mr, Billing had been scolding us for not being quiet. What a noisy study hall this is, he cried over and over again. Time after time he had carried some unfortunate boy's or girl's books up to a front seat, and many unlucky students had been sent to the office on reluctant, dragging feet. Half the period has disappeared and at last, to Mr. Billing's great relief, the study hall had grown quiet. Silence, sweet and golden, reigned. Then-a dreadful thing happened, I heard a crash as of mighty thunder, or as of rumbling rocks in an earthquake, and, coming out of my trance, I dis- covered, to my great horror, that my pearl necklace had broken and that the beads were falling like hail upon the floor. After the first gust they con- tinued to drop, drop, drop, one by one, like undecided icicles slipping from the eaves on a late winter's day, Mortified, I sat in all my shame, alone and friendless under a gigantic, awful battery of eyes which came near- er, then slowly receded. I sat there in the enfolding silence, a silence which may have tried to hide my misery but seemed only a light to make it worse. If only something would happen-any- thing, anything to stop that aching in my heart and that horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach-and then, O sweet, O dear relief-the bell rang. Lucymae Kent. Nightfall By T ERRENCE HENDRICKSON The Northern pines are whispering sweet and low, As twilight creeps upon the sullen woods, The moon begins to blend its cool grey glow With stars that form the forest's nightly hood. No sound of living beast can now he heard, The moon and stars have lulled them all to rest. A shuflie now and then of restless bird Proves, that they, too, have gone to roost and nest. The wind has gently slowed its daytime speedg And now is but a breath upon the air: The dew drops lightly on each bush and weed: To duplicate this, mankind does not dare. If in your life you have not known all this, It's something I can tell you not to miss. Page Scum

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HUMBOLDT LIFE Mr. Billing then reads a sentence which may run like this: I wish I could run like he. Patiently he explains the error and occasionally is thanked. I can't understand this problem. Will you help me? Then he becomes a teacher of mathe- matics and explains thoroughly a prob- lem whose solution is quite obvious. l'May I get my assignment from Margaret? I wasn't there when it was given. After a while Mr. Billing is obliged to extract that person from her friend's seat and escort her to her own hard wood throne. May we study our shorthand to- gether? Neither of us can get it. Very soon, loud whispering comes from the direction of the huddled shorthand students. After twenty min- utes the huddle breaks up disappears in the direction of the type room. The room is again tranquil as the dreamers go on dreaming, and the stu- dents go on studying. Is it any wonder that the caretaker of Room 200 is becoming gray? Is it any wonder? Our Neighbor Lady BY ANN KATZOVITZ Our neighbor lady, big and fat is she, She sits and talks to women all the day: Between her words, she sips a little tea With one old croney from across the way. The big, fat lady is a gossip strong, All of the slander of the town she knows: She drags a story out to hold you long, Of some young maiden and her many beaux. Our neighbor lady, who quite well can lie, Upon her chair and from her porch, can see Most of the people who are passing by And vows to slander those who from her flee. Oh, Neighbor Lady, with your stories many, Your endless scandal isn't worth one penny. Page Nine