Latin School of Chicago - Sigillum Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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would ever notice these with his well-fitted clothes and toupee. The fact remains that Mr. Dunsworthy considered himself a young and attractive man. So he whistled and hummed as he continued on his way toward the house of Martha, his modern American l-leartthrob. l'le bustled up the steps and rang the bell. While he stood adjusting his tie he thought what an attractive sight he would be when the door opened. But the bitter truth catches up with us all, and so it was to be in the case of Mr. Dunsworthy. The door burst open, Mr. Dunsworthyys jaw dropped. There stood Martha in a skirt and sweater, sport shoes, and a sport hat. uOhl+Er if l came too early, l mean ah-er. Go ahead and get dressedlu, stammered Mr. Dunsworthy. NGet dressed?H exclaimed Martha. lim all ready. Come on, we're going to xloe's jitterbug Dance Contest. And they did. 9:30 P. M. An hour and a half later Mr. Dunsworthy gasped and panted as he Suzy-Qued around the dance floor. l-lis feet hurt, his head ached, and his neck was all raw from peckin'. Now letls go to l?iverview. , said Martha. UWhat now? Er-a that's a jolly good idea , agreed Mr. Dunsworthy, wiping his steaming face with a very battered and torn handkerchief. l-lis stuffed shirt was wilted, his tails hung in a tired fashion. But think of going homer? Not Mr. Duns- worthyl l-le was young, and he could do whatever young people did. l-le loved Martha and he could keep up with her. 'l'l:00 P. M. Same night. Mr. Dunsworthy careened around the Hwhirling turns at Riverview, his face an odd shade of green, his hands weakly clutching the sides of the car. The torture chamber finally stopped, and Mr. Dunsworthy, heaving a sigh of relief, was just staggering out of it when Martha said, uQh let's go again, Cuddles. l love it.', i'Oh, Ch, certainly, l'd be charmed, but please donit call me Cuddles. My namhe ig Rercivalf' gasped Mr. Dunsworthy, thinking all the time, HMy stomach, my ea . Friday. 'l:00 A. M, Mr. Dunsworthy crawled out of the twisted wreck that had once been a car, and looked weakly around for Martha. -lhere she was in the glare of the crippled headlights, sitting on a fence and calmly smoking a cigarette. HQh Cu-er, Per-, Mr. Dunsworthy, l thought you were dead. llm so glad to see you. l'leavensl Your hair is all gone. , exclaimed Martha. 11:00 A. M. Visiting hours at County Hospital for the Weak and Wounded. Mr. Dunsworthy peered at his friend from the mass of bandages around his head. And sou, he continued, ul discovered that cruel, young little Martha was too much for me. Er-well, maybe, l was too old for her. At any rate l found the bitter truth but l lost my toupeef' ADA BLANC-lE WRIGLEY, '41 Estate of Maximovky County of Borosna mated of Cfihirrlegev on ay, pri 'l0, 1916 Dearest Greataunt, This is the first letter l have written since my return from St. Petersberg two days ago. It has been so lonely here, father goes from estate to estate inspecting crops, paying the peasants their wages, and is at home only on Sundays, when even then he spends the morning attending to the estate. Sunday l sat in his office and watched him giving out wages. l-leavens, what a mass of people he employsl The lawn was spotted with them, at least three hundred peasants and so many clerks. Father had been up since dawn, and he did not finish till after midday. lhen, we all had tea on the verandah, and mother and father made me tell about everything l did in St. Petersberg and what professor Wilhelm thinks of my progress in music, l-le seems to approve of me, but insists that l do not play the Russian School till l have had more thorough experience with Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart. l am fond of Bach, but Beethoven and Mozart do not suit my temperament, l think. l'lerr Wilhelm is a burly fellow, and goes about in the cold and snow hatless, with only a short jacket and woolen shawl to protect him from the weather. 73

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all through the day. Pupils often arrive at a class after orchestra practice a tritle late, Tor, alter all, you just can,t wallc away leaving Mr. Tschialcowslcy in the middle of the Fourth Symphonvl The science oi writing and spealcing is taught in the schools, because the more we express ourselves--that is, the more we show other people what we Feel and thinlc-the more we do Feel and thinlc, and the more Iun we have in feeling and thinlcing. But I would teach children to read notes as they learn to read their language, and give them an instrument with their First pencil. Perhaps when I am a dictator, I shall. CAROL CCE, '4O. SPRING A little girl straddled a long, low willow limb overhanging the lagoon. Some- times she Ioolced at the pale green leaves, or at her older sister, who was sitting on a Iower branch precariously near the muddy water, or still Further down the banlt, where her mother, wearing a Flowery purple hat, traced designs in the sandy ground with a Icnubbly sticlt. LooIc,', the little girl shouted and almost Iost her balance as she watched a mother duclc leading her brood into the thin foliage of one of the nearby islands. She almost Iost it a ain when a beady-eyed squirrel brushed her with his tail. Come, Iet's go. QThe mother threw away her sticlc. But the children continued to sit Iilce owls. Did you hear me? The mother held up their coats. They moved slightly in the warm sunshine. Come, we'II get something cool to drink. With a thud the children landed beside her on the sandy banlc. SALLY MITCHELL, '41 H E R M A N Zella came down the path, her iat blaclc body swaying from side to side. I-Ier pudgy hand clutched the newly sharpened razor in the pocI4et oI her blue and white checlced gingham dress. When she reached the whitewashed baclc Ience, she stopped. Peering over into the next yard, her blaclc eyes snapping, she Iound her prey. WomanI you come heahf' Turning suddenly, a tall, thin negress regarded her with sullen eyes. She ap- proached the fence slowly, her head bent and her hair bushy about her face. When she reached the Fence, she Ioolced up, and stared at the other woman quietly. Zella glared at her, UIViy man, he was not at home last night. Neither was you.U The negress shoolc her head silently. Zella continued, HWoman, you was out with my manf, The negress nodded her head briefly. Zella drew from her pocltet the razor. As the sun struclc it, it threw its light into the other negress' face. She stared at Zella with frightened eyes. Zella Tirst Ioolced at her and then at the razor. The negress gave one long wail and tore baclc to her kitchen. Zella watched her with triumphant eyes, turned and wallced back up the path. SALLY MITCHELL, '4'I. THE BITTER TRUTH REVEALED IN SNATCHES Thursday 6:30 I3. M. Mr. Dunsworthy emerged from his club, humming a tune Irom HCarmen,'. l-Ie turned and waII4ed brislcly down Michigan Avenue. I-Iis neat and precise English evening clothes Fitted him to the most minute detail, and his clean shaven Iace was long and British. Perhaps he was getting rather stout around the waist: perhaps he did have a bald spot, quite a big bald spot, but no one T2

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Ch, l do have a surprise for youl Do you remember how our former watchmen used to fall asleep on duty at night? That will not happen any more, for father has imported a chief watchman from Siberia-and such a watchmanl l-lis name is Vassily, and he is at least seven feet tall, with a broad, red face, heavy blond moustaches, and shaggy yellow hair, which he keeps very neat under a tall fur cap. l discovered that when he was young, his master had flogged him for no apparent reason, and Vassily, blind with rage, had strangled him to death, The government sent him to Siberia for thirty yearsi The stories he tells of his experiences there are hair-raising l have listened to his recitals in the kitchen. The poor creature is flattered by the interest of the 'iyoung barishnan. Mother cannot understand why father would elect a murderer chief watchman of the estate, but he explains to her that Vassily is on his honor. He is devoted to us, as we were the only family willing to employ him, and it is really quite reassuring to wake in the night and hear his hourly Urattle- rattleu with the little black clapper he carries with him. When the other watchmen hear him, they must answer to show they are awake. Vassily's only fault is his terrible temper, which is at its height when he has drunk too much vodka. Everyone in the village is terribly afraid of him, none will dare look into his face, as he is sensitive about his sojourn in Siberia. But, my precious aunt, when l bade him good- morning, today, l looked straight at himi. Now l know his eyes are blue, so l can better describe him to you. ' Please write me very soon and tell me all about yourself and what has been happening at Kousoffky during my absence. l.ovingly yours, ANUTA Estate of Kousoffky County of Borosna State of Chirnegev April Q'lst, 'l9'l6. My Dearest Anuta, l am so happy that you are with us again. As soon as possible, l shall see you, my favorite grandniece. And you may commend your father in his choice of watch- men, l am sure Vassily is very efficient. You looked him straight in the eye, did you? Ah, my precocious child, it would be like you to do that. ln your letter l detected undertones of discontent. Do not allow this, occupy yourself. l hope you do not find the life of a barishna too dull, my dear. When l was your age, my parents, also were very busy. You are gravely mistaken if you believe the life ofa landowner is just a round of parties, balls, and rides on horseback through our delightful country. lf there is no book on the shelves that has not been read over too many times, go for a walk in the lanes and pastures. And you may have Minsk, our little Mongolian horse that you were always so fond of. With these and your music, you can keep busy, lim sure. l'low is that charming lady's maid of yours? l-las she broken any more hearts yet? Send me another of your interesting letters, for they are eagerly anticipated and always joyfully received. Your loving aunt, MYRA 'iMaximovkyH Borosna Chirnegev April 30, 'l9'l6 Dearest Greataunt, l do feel, as you have discovered, discontent. But do not think it is my life that bores me. l should be selfish to think only of myself, l have seen such misery around me among the peasants, that l find it difficult to conceal my feelings of distress and sympathy, It is my wish to serve them, to enlighten them. They are human beings and are undeserving of the outrageous treatment they receive at the hands of the government officials. 74