Lancaster High School - Mirage Yearbook (Lancaster, OH)

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A SO I3 HOMO RE RACKET By Lucille Fortier, 19H. T was four o’clock in the afternoon on the opening day of the mid-winter term at Iiill- ton Seminary, a noted institution located in a beautiful old town of western New York. A group of gay girls was gathered in one of the pleasant recreation rooms and they were chattering like a proverbial flock of magpies, exchanging merry greetings after their Christmas vaca- tion, comparing notes on studies, classes and roommates. Suddenly there appeared at the door a young girl appar- ently about sixteen years of age and a little above medium height. A wealth of hair matching the color of her eyes crowned a small shapely head and contrasted beautifully with a creamy complexion. Her features were clear-cut and very attractive. There was an instantaneous hush as the bevy of maidens turned their bright faces and affectionate glances upon Peggy Currly, who evidently was a prime favorite among them all. “Is Miss Olive Beverly in the room? You know she is a new pupil who arrived this morning and she is to room with me.” A young girl who had been sitting alone in a remote corner of the room, arose and moved towards the speaker. “I am Ollie Beverly, Miss Currly,” she said with quiet self- possession, yet flushing slightly beneath the many curious glances bent upon her, as her soft blue eyes met the smil- ing brown ones. “Oh, Miss Beverly, I have had quite a search for you,” she said, extending a cordial hand to her; for despite the girl’s poise, Peggy caught the quiver of loneliness on the expressive face. “I am to be your room-mate, and I have been commissioned by Professor Scabcrly to find you and show you to his study. But first let me present you to these chatterers. Peggy slipped a reassuring arm around the girl’s waist and went chattering on, “Young ladies, this is Miss Bev- erly, a new Sophomore. I can’t present each of you for- mally, for she is wanted elsewhere.” Ollie nodded a smiling acknowledgment to the vigorous clapping hands and the hearty, “Welcome, Miss Beverly, to Hillton.” Then Peggy led her away, and the inter- rupted chatter of magpies was resumed with redoubled animation. “Say, girls, isn’t she a dear?” “Came this morning, did she?” “Where from, I wonder?” “My! but wasn’t that a nobby traveling suit, and such a fit!” “Ollie Beverly— pretty name, isn’t it?” “Does anybody know anything about her?” These were some of the comments and quer- ies that slipped from those supple instruments which have a 17

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piece of orange peel, “I took this from Mr. Potter’s hand out at the woods.” The accused Potter was then put on the stand. “Mr. Potter, where are you from?” “New York, your Honor,” with a great rolling of r’s. “Is this your first offense at hunting snipe?” Now, it must be confessed. Potter had tried once before to catch snipe and not being successful, was ashamed to own it. “Your Honor, I have never caught a snipe.” “Did you not know snipe were out of season?” Before Potter could answer, Lewis jumped up. “Beg pardon, your Honor, but only red and brown snipe are out of season; we were hunting black snipe, weren’t we, Potter?” “Silence,” commanded the judge, laughing so he could scarcely contain himself. Everyone was smiling. “Mr. Potter, answer my question.” “Your Honor, we were after black snipe.” At this part of the proceedings, a man walked into the back of the room. Lucian in a loud whisper said, “It’s all up, Potter. There’s the reporter for The Item. It will all be out in the evening paper.” “Mr. Potter, did you you use orange peel or lemon?” “Orange, your Honor.” “Orange peel is the bait for red and brown snipe,” re- marked the Game Warden. 1 Much more evidence was heard, all of which pointed to Potter having been caught with the orange peel and bag. The jury pronounced him guilty. The lawyer told him to plead guilty for the other two offenses, which he did. The judge pronounced his sentence, saying, “Mr. Pot- ter, since you are a stranger in our midst and unaccus- tomed to our laws, I will make your fine light. I fine you twenty-five dollars and all the rest of the party five dollars each. Court is adjourned.” To the amusement of all, Potter went over and thanked the judge for his kindness in making his fine so light. In the afternoon Lewis met Potter on the street and said, “Say, George, come over to the club tonight, the fel- lows are having a sort of celebration dinner.” “Sure, I’ll come.” That night at dinner they were having a fine time and drinks were just being served when Leonard laughingly proposed a toast. Here's to the hunter, Here's to the fine, Here's to his money On which zee now dine. Poor George at last caught on to the joke when the fel- lows gave him the laugh.

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tendency towards perpetual motion and which are some- times described as organs that are hung in the middle and wag at both ends—schoolgirls’ tongues. Meanwhile Peg had taken Ollie to her room. “So you are a Sophomore, are you?” asked Ollie. “Yes, I am a Soph, but I am not here as you are. I am a working stu- dent.” She said this with a rising flush and a defiant toss of her pert little head. “A working student?” repeated Ollie. “That’s what I said. I can’t afford to pay full tuition, so I wait on the Professor and his wife and do other kinds of work to make up the rest. Do you under- stand ?” “Yes, I understand, and think you are a dear brave girl to do it,” said Ollie. “Do you, truly?” queried Peg. “My! I believe I feel two inches taller for that. You’ve given me a lift that I shan’t forget. Well, Ollie—may 1 call you that?” “Yes, I should like it better,” replied Ollie with a smile. “And of course I can call you Peggy.” “I must run along or the girls will think I have deserted them.” “Thank you for coming up with me,” said Ollie, holding out a detaining hand. Peggy rushed back to the recreation room. There she found all the Sophomores waiting her return. “Oh, girls, we must not let her get hold of this racket that is to be pulled off Monday evening, for—oh, she is the dearest thing and it is a shame too, for she will be the only Soph left out. Do you suppose we ought to tell her about it? Well, I’ll tell you, let’s vote and whichever way it comes out we’ll do. Now girls get a piece of paper and write on it ‘yes or ‘no.’ ” This Peg said without stopping to take a whole breath. In looking over the papers it was found that Ollie should not be told anything about the racket. Monday evening, after study hours were over, Ollie was in her teacher’s room. She had been just a little back in her mathematics and had asked the teacher if she would help her after study hour. They became so absorbed that they took no account of time until the clock struck the half-hour after eleven. “Why,” Ollie exclaimed and started to her feet, “if you were not a teacher I should he guilty of flagrant disobed ience in being out of my room at this hour.” “Dear child, I have been very thoughtless to keep you so long,” said the teacher regretfully, “but I certainly had no idea of time.” Miss Reynolds’ room was located on the second floor of the east wing, and Ollie roomed in the west wing; conse- quently she was obliged to go down a flight of stairs, across the main or central hall, and up another flight to gain her own quarters. The lights were all out, hut the moon was full, coming in through the windows with a soft radiance. Thus she had no difficulty in finding her way. She had crossed the main hall, and just entered a short passage leading to the west wing, when she came suddenly upon someone who ap- peared to be trying to shrink out of sight into a corner. “Why, who is it?” she cried. “Sh! Sh! keep mum!” was the warning response as the figure drew near. “Peggy,” Ollie whispered amazed, “what are you doing here at this unearthly hour of the night?” “Hush, don’t give me away for the world,” said the girl,