Junction City High School - Junco Ed Yearbook (Junction City, OR)

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THE ,IUNCO-ED 1927 about six feet square and had one of the kids take a bucket of cherries up on it. While he poured the cherries over the side I up and pops them one with my trusty old shot gun, pitting them slick as a whistle. By this time I calculated that I had enough material for a fair sized story for the Astonisher, so I bade the venerable old gentleman good day and made for my flivver. He accompanied me out to the gate and looked on while I twisted the front of my automobile. Pretty stubborn cuss ain't it ? he asked, when he heard me mutter something not fit for publication. Now that reminds me of an old mule I used to have in '78 - He got no further as the faithful tin can cut in on his remarks- th-ank heaven--and left. I thot, as I hustled over -the sylvan road that perhaps Ananias could be considered an honest man after all. VARDELL NELSON, Senior. -.LO THE SOPHOMORE FORMAL A The Sophomores were planning a very select dance, a formal to be exact, on St. Patrick's eve. Professor Carder, the principal of our Alma Mater, old Union Central High, frowned darkly upon the proceedings. First, he declared there had been the Senior Mix, then the Junior Sneak and now both the Sophomores and the Freshmen were planning entertainments. Was it any wonder that -World History and Caesar suffered so sadly? But speaking of the Freshmen, they were having a Frosh 'Circus on the same evening that we were giving our dance. It's really so proper, Doris Langdon told one of them very sweetly, are you going to decorate in green? Q But I say, Don Chapman told a group of us, we'd better watch those Frosh closely. They've got something up their sleeves and I donft mean I think so either. Well, well, Mr. HawkshaW, said Susan Stewart, the class secretary, you've been doing a little detecting, I take it? The usual procedure is to steal the ice cream, isn't it? Well, don't worry, those refreshments will be Safely locked in the basement. Don's Warnings aroused our suspicions, however. The Freshmen gathered in small groups in the halls, talking in low voices, and as soon as one of us approached, they would begin to talk about Algebra or an English theme just a little too loudly. We did not have much time to bother about them, however, while rushing out of 'assembly hall every few minutes and being late to school at noon half the time. We worked our heads off, but in -the wrong way, so it seemed. You should have heard the Prof's lamentations as to all the golden opportunities we were wasting. Myl my! what is this generation coming to? he would solemnly remark. The poor old dear, howl could he 33

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THE IUNCO-ED 1927 Well, he returned, when that hole was made, the water from the melon rushed out so fast that it tore my house down and washed all that valuable dirt down into the river. I suppose you sawed the rind up in sections and buried it ? I ven- tured to ask. No, he answered, I wouldn't be caught wasting anything like that. Why you know sir, we had one of -the biggest picklin' bees you ever laid eyes on. We made watermelon pickles out of the rinds. I was going to ask how' they ever got enough vinegar to pickle all that rind, but I was afraid he would tell about some huge apple tree or something of the kind, so I thot I would steer the conversation into safer charmels. You would have been in a bad fix if it had rained on that melon, I ventured to say. I sure would have been, he returned. Speaking about rain reminds me of the time we had a bad rain storm a few years ago. Did you ever hear about it ? . I signified that I hadnit so he proceeded with his discourse. Well it rained so hard during that storm that it busted a funnel out on the bench. This funnel was turned with the little end up and il. rained so hard into the small end that it couldn't run out at the bottom, so the pressure split the thing wide open. But that wasn't as bad -as the storm we had ten years ago. Do you Want to hear about that? I told him one rain story was enough and added that I thot he must have gotten wet during some of these storms. Well, he says, sometimes but not always. One time I went out hunting. I always take six guns and .six kids to carry them, that is so 1 won't be bothered with loading. Along about three o'cl0ck in the afternoon the sky began to get cloudy and dark. I knew we were in for a real storm. Before we vcould get home the rain began to pour down so I just grabbed a gun from one of the boys and started shooting the rain drops as fast as they fell, and as fast as I would shoot, the kids would load up. When that storm blew over there was a dry place around us about eight feet square. Good shootin' wasn't it? I used to be a crack shot in my younger days. Why, sir, you ought to have been here when I pitted cherries for my old woman. I told him I thot that would have been interesting and that I would like to -hear about it, but just after he took- up another notch in his belt and filled a knot hole with liquid nicotine, a small boy appeared in the doorway with his head bandaged up and with small pieces of adhesive tape plastered promiscously over his countenance. Good heavens! I asked, what hit the boy? Oh we have just been larnin' him to eat with his knife and fork, Methuselah's competitor answered. After sending the boy away he continued to tell about his cherry pitting process. Now, about those cherries, he resumed., I built a high platfoiin

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THE JUNCO-ED 1927 realize that a party was just four times as thrilling as the Franco-Prussian war? Our plans were going splendidly. Tom Atkinson, the class president, was to be the host. He was really lawfullyl good looking, and the most popular boy in the class. Eloise Byland, the vice-president, was to be the hostess, and Tom's lady of the evening, of course. Eloise was one of these lovely, irresponsible, curly-headed blondes. She was the kind of a girl who always got good grades from the younga English prof., and never failed to be given the snap questions in history. She would make an adorable hostess, if we could only get her there on time, and we were counting on Tom to do that. Saint.Patrick's eve finally arrived. The high school gymnasium was beautifully decorated as an oriental garden with shaded lamps and tinkling prisms. The refreshmentss were safely locked away, needless to say. The onchestra came about eight-thirty and the guests began to arrive about nine, but where, oh, where, were the host and hostess? Certainly not receiving guests as they should have been. The entertainment Icom- mittee was on pins and needles, so to .speak. Time dragged slowly on until it was a quarter of ten. Horrors! How could a formal dance be properly started without a host or a hostess. It was terrible! Don Chapman, chairman of the entertainment committee, was pacing the floor, tearing his hair, and cursing inwardly. Glee Norton was almost in tears. Oh dear, she moaned, for the tenth time, why didn't we choose some one sensible. Did you ever know Eloise to be on time at anything? We phoned frantically all over town always to receive the same mes- sage, Oh, they went to the Sophomore dance at the high school gym. Why don't you call there? The third time that happened Don nearly broke the telephone. So there we were, if the news leaked out we would be the joke of the town. We :could fairly see the glaring headlines in the school's weekly paper, the Comet, declaring, Sophomore Formal The Absolute Bunk, or words to that effect. Those horrid upper classmen would make a huge joke of it, of course. ' At eleven-thirty we had given up all hope, and were just going to call all the hospitals to find out where the accident had happened, when we received a very mysterious message. It seemed to be a Chineses puzzle, several ancient Greek letters and a solid geometry problem combined, but it was written on green stationery. Those infernal Freshmen! roared Don and started toward the door, for all the world like a mad bull at a red flag. We stopped him, however, and announced our discovery to the two hundred Sophomore guests. A band of carefully selected persons got their coats, hopped into several of the various cars parked around the block, and started for that Frosh Circus. When we burst into th-e hall, we found our long lost president and vice S4