Kalona High School - Centerika Yearbook (Kalona, IA)

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, i 2, +2 A Drama In a noisy, quiet court room sat a young man old in years A cheerful smile was on his face, his eyes were filled with tears And in that crowd he sat alone, while he stood up for trial The judge was all attention, he was sleeping all the while That poor boy was a rich man’s heir, his good friends they were bad HS The bank he worked for had no funds, and he stole every cent they had. When down the aisle there came with zest, an cld man bent with years He tried to speak but all in vain, and his voice rang out clear That villain is our only son, the only son we had But his brothers they were always gcod and he was always bad I don’t know what he’s here for, but kindly hang my boy.? End of Act First Ladies and gentlemen, in behalf cf the management, I wish to thank you for your liberal patronage here this evenirg, and to announce that tomor- row night starting the matinee we will produce “East Lynn,” with pleas- ing specialties between each act. It’s headliner will be discussed to us ‘ by a human faced chicken. As there is only one Wednesday next week Aes ach we will give our Saturday matinee then. Each lady will be presented with a souvenir as she leaves the theater, a beautiful chunk of coal. We carry special scenery with the production of ‘East Lynn,” and I will be pleased to bring it out here and show it to you but our property man has it lock- ed up in his dressing room case. I am sorry to inform you that he has been off the water wagon for the past week and is living under the im- pression that if a camel can work eight days without a drink, a man can drink eight days without work. Now for the scene of the last act.— Thank You. cm (em ec) (cal) ci) ec) an ce-() et ) () R-() a-() -- ( ( -el-() mt () -E-( ) el) () ) ) A () () A () A () E ) A () A () EE () ERED) EE) () RE) EE —= -, The bank was robbed the old man cried, whose son was far at sea And judge it’s just as clear as mud, the robber must be he Think of the family. They have never seen the bank For all have lost their savings, and they have him to thank. A scream rang through the court room, a woman staggered in She scarcely weighed eight hurdred pounds, her face was drawn and thin She fell exhausted in a chair, and fainted with a smile She said, “Judge, I am his mother, and the villain’s aid am I.” My son, my son, the old man cried, forgive me for it all It was your mother robbed that bank, the bank she never saw The court room seemed to vanish then, I heard the clock strike four I found that I was dreaming, and was sleeping on the floor. = jew )eee ERS ER OC EEE ED EO ESAS SSS ASS AL GSS 1G) SL LG LT EY EGY LG LISS ES SES —F. A. Y., 39. ! ! § ! ! ! ' | | | | | | i UD () ES () A DE) A A A OL A A) A) A) ) A) A () A A) () D-() Ne Page Twenty-Three | i | | | | | | | | | | a 4%) eee 0 em =

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Sa () a ( ) ( ) - ) ) ) Oy 4 Oy Oy « SPL) A |) A) a) A) A A A) A) A) A A A) A) A) ) A) ) AD) () A () D- ) - () A () (| a A) (A () ( ( ( ) ( ) () - () () D () --( ( a ( a () D ( D( a) () (D AD () A () ED () ED () ED () ED () ED () ED ( a () (a () a (ED () SD () ( A Magnificent Obsesssion (With apologies to Lloyd Douglas) In a beautiful valley fringed with timber land lives a little golden-haired lad named John. As there were no neighboring children to play with, he was accustom- ed to playing by himself. When an airplane route was established over the valley, his joy knew no bounds. From the coming of the first airplanes, one wish was ever uppermost in his little mind—if only one airplane would come down in the valley sometime without an accident, and stay there long enough so he could run down and touch its beautiful shining body and maybe even sit in one of the seats! This wish became an obsession. One morning as he was playing with his stick horses, the drone of an airplane was suddenly heard, but he could not see it coming over the tree line. The reason was apparent as the drone became louder. It was flying low and it was not coming from the east as it usually did in the morning. As it approached with a deafening roar, he dropped his sticks and ran to meet, what to him was the most beautiful winged chariot he had ever seen—a beautiful silver with a bright red star and circle, when, wonder of wonders, the pilot leaned out and waved his hand before soaring away out of sight. This gladdened his little heart for many a day and, although he still longed for his old wish to come true, he was in a measure satisfied. The story might have ended here, had not the seemingly impossible taken place. John was now a likely lad of six years, a little helper with the chickens and calves about the barnyard. The increasing roar of an airplane reminded him of the time the pilot waved to him. He dropped his bucket and ran—and it really came to pass. An airplane was landing in the meadow! Faster and faster he ran until he reach- ed the plane, almost out of breath. It couldn’t be true,—and yet it was. There it glistened in the sunlight, and the pilot was a human as his own daddy—triendly brown eyes and an infectious smile as he said, “Well, my little man, what can I do for you?” John answered: ‘‘Oh, mister, if you would only just let me sit in your seat for one minute, I would do anything for you,’ and John shyly handed him the peppermint stick he had been saving for school. The pilot was a gentleman and gravely took his little gift, then, with a chuckle, tossed him up into the plane. John’s joy was com- plete—or so he thought. Then the pilot asked him if he wanted to run to the house and have his mother call to Stewart for a mechanic. Gladly he ran to heed the air- man’s request. It proved to be only a slight repair the plane needed and then came the climax of the story. By this time John’s father and mother were also interestedly watching the proceedings when the pilot turned and said, “Folks, with your permission, I will take Little John up and give him a view of his valley home.” At last the dream had come true! This was almost too good for words. The engine roared and little John saw that they were slowly leaving the ground, and yet they didn’t seem to be moving at all. Up, up, they ascended. Smaller and smaller became the objects below. The field of corn became a green tufted blanket and yet, strange as it may seem, even the drill marks in the other fields were plainly visible. Then he spied his dog—a tiny miniature of old Shep—and even his mother’s hand as she waved up into the sky. It ended all too scon, but in this hard, work-a-day world, can one say that dreams never come true or that little kindnesses never pay. Would pilot Byrnes have thought of giving little John the thrill of his life, had he not tendered his precious little gift of one cherished stick of peppermint candy? The answer is yours—the question is mine. —C. J. E., ’40. « Page Twenty-Four 2, ee | 0 0 cD 0 aD) a ee e 2) A) A A A) A) A) A) ) A) ) (SD ) DD 0D) ) ED DED ED ED) ED (SD DED) ED () SD () ED () SD () (SD