Jacksonville High School - Crimson J Yearbook (Jacksonville, IL)

Page 25 text:

HIS KNIBBS, THE EDITOR John Dunaway felt downcast. His whole appearance was that of utter dejection. He rammed his hands down in his pockets and sighed mournfully. He had been to the editor of the Gazette de Luxe and had been rebuffed heartily and convincingly. This enraged and youthful writer stormed, as he mentally waved his precious manuscript in the stony one’s face. 'The taunting words came back to him: “Sonny, you were cut out for the Cozy Corner news in some Ladies’ World. Bah! grow up, my lad, and come back to me then.” Vengeance burned in his heart. R-r-revenge! Brrrrrr!!! He'd show him! He’d prove that he had ability! That for him!! Cozy Corner, indeed!! Ladies' World!! Oh, revenge! He kicked at an inoffensive pebble on the walk, stumbled, clenched his lists and muttered softly to himself. But hold! His feet mechanically wandered up the steps of a stiff looking apartment house and he found himself at home. More troubles beset the tired young plodder. T he door stuck, and out popped the frazzled head of his landlady. “Mr. Dunaway, will you please not be so noisy? My first husband’s sister is here and she has an awful headache. Seems like everything’s upset today. Don’t you feel well, either?” “I’m in perfect health,” he replied tartly, scraping his feet on the rug; “can’t I punch that confounded door if I wish? Am I not paying rent for privileges which I have failed to get? I’m leaving for the country, Mrs. Jency. Please keep my room locked until I get back. I’ll probably stay two weeks. T his heat is getting the best of »» me. “Certainly, certainly, Mr. Dunaway”. And she waddled out to the invalid, whose rasping voice issued from the rear of the house. Dunaway climbed the tottering steps wearily. His hand swung along the bannister rail listlessly, and he did not whistle. Opening a door at the end of a dismal hall, he entered the room and threw himself upon a glaring divan. The room had the appearance of the usual city apartment house, walls adorned with brilliant colors, and a flashing carpet, which reflected the hot sunlight outside. “Oh, such is life,” mourned the young author. What have I done to merit all this disappointment? All my trouble for nothing. Ladies’ World! Cozy Corner! I’ll let the moths eat that manuscript first! But 1 guess I’d better pack my suit case and skip for home. Kinda want to see the old folks anyhow, and Rosie—oh, little Rosie! 1 wonder if you’ve missed me half as much as I’ve missed you. Rose of the Empire can’t come up to Rosie of the fields and meadows. My little Rosie! Oh, she’s in the country; hurray! hurray! Goodbye, little New York town. ‘Dunaway,’ says 1 to myself, ‘cut out this coarse comedy and pack your suit case.” ’ He settled down to work in real earnest. Pink pajamas were piled on crumpled collars and ties. His haste grew reckless, but

Page 24 text:

WHEN YOU HAVE BECOME A SENIOR, AFTER THE FINAL INSTRUCTIONS ARE GIVEN, AND THE EXIT DOOR IS OPEN FOR YOU WHERE DO YOU STAND?

Page 26 text:

there was a smile on his face, a song on his lips. “Oh, 1 wonder who’s kissing her now?” Shut up, Dunaway; that’s your privilege. Huh, three o’clock, and my train goes at four. Cioodby, little New ork. His authorship is going home to write some Cozy Corner gossip. Goodby, Mrs. Jen-cy.” Dunaway lumbered his bulging suit case into the bus at a small jumping off place (to use the traveling man’s expression) some fifty miles southwest of New York. He also lumbered his six feet something in and grinned broadly at the driver. |)t Dunaway s! This concise answer was sufficient; a tip of his hat and away went the antique vehicle. Dunaway, manuscript and all. There were lovely little lanes out past the scraggy town and John D. smiled as he looked around him. “Drive on! drive on! fair one!” he shouted. ‘ Home again, and Rosie! Ah! I am inspired. Rosie shall help me with my story. She shall be my good angel. She shall, by my troth; she shall, say I! Don’t I run on just awful? Driver, stop, I beg of you! Here is the cot where I was born, and there is the old oaken bucket, all intact. Take your two bits, give me my little wicker suit case, and au revoir. Bon voyage, my man!” “Chee, but he’s cracked,” thought the fellow as he climbed back up on the rickety seat and drove off. “Poor young fellar! Too bad! They ought to put him in a » 1 » sylum. Dunaway strode through the narrow gate and up to the flowery porch. He whistled three times to a clumsy setter pup, which lost its wits immediately and capered around its master in a most strenuous manner. “Mother! oh, mother!! Oh, ma!!!” “Why, John E .ra Dunaway! Lost your job? Why are you home?” And the round faced little woman smacked him soundly. “Homesick; couldn’t stand the pressure of city life. No; I just took a little vacation unceremoniously. How’s Rosie?” “She is here now,” replied his mother with that characteristic vagueness of woman. “I know she likes you awfully well, son. But don’t say that I told you. I don’t want her to think me an old busy body.” A sweet, pink cheeked girl arose and extended two slender hands to the young fellow, who caught them in a crushing grip. “How good it is to see you, John,” she said, shyly. “Yes, and how perfectly grand it is to see you again!” he exclaimed. “Let’s go out in the orchard. Want to tell you something.” “Go on. Isn’t that just like a man?” laughed his mother as she rushed over to peep into the oven. “Go on; I’ll ring the hell when dinner is ready. Your pa is over in Albinhurst and won’t be home till late to-night. The two strolled slowly down through the grape arbor to a natural seat where two elms had grown together. It wasn’t in the orchard, and it was a snug fit; but what cared they? John began his troubles, his tales of woe diversified. Rosie smiled and twirled her sun bonnet strings, but patted his hand wnen he became too turbulent. “Johnnie,” she murmured, “it’s just what you needed. You were riding your high horse, and His Knibbs, the Editor, unseated »» you. “You’ve struck it right, Rose o’ Mine, he laughed gaily as he got up and walked