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

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A73 I LSB ' ws v at t y ff? s 1 X s if April 94, 1921 Lantern Bearer: Miss Turner Props: Betty Bennett Muriel Macffhesney SIDNEY PAGE MEEKER President ofthe Senior Class Breathless with haste and her heavy raccoon coat, Sid rushes up the Senior aisle, reaches the seat and flops down. 'fl didnft do a bit of work last night. l was so tired that l went to bed at ninen, she pants to anyone who looks interested. l can do my physics in my study-period, l guess, and my English at recess, then l can read my history at lunch. l laving thus filled every spare moment of to-day with yesterdayis chores, she drapes the raccoon coat over her chair, and scrambles to her feet, just in time to join in the reading of the morning psalm. Does she or does she not carry out her plans? We dont know, but results point to the affirmative. OOO uflass meetingl Class meetinglu shouts Sidney in the hall, tapping various Seniors on the shoulder. When all are finally gathered in, Sidney seats herself on the teacher's desk, skirts above knees, a la actress photographed on ship's rail, and commences with many motions of head and hands to explain why we are met. You see, girls, l just have to tell you, l have the most wonderful idea for the classmprophecyn . . . Sid has only to explain it. The approval is instantaneous and unanimous. Why, Sid, l think thats great , we chorus. Says Sidney, 'll think its rather good myself ,and laughs. O O O Locker room five minutes after basketball practice. The Juniors, in various states of undress, lean exhausted against lockers and walls. Their conversation: Hl'm simply deadln . . . You were lucky, Sidney was guarding me. l couldnit break away oncef' . . . Hl'm getting stiff already. Gee, that was funln At the sound of the dissenting voice the Juniors, weary heads lift with one accord. Sidney dances into the room. Saluting feebly with a shoe, someone says, Nice playing today, Sidney. HWhy, thank youln, bows Sidney, auick to burlesque anything. But it was nothing really. There was l, with my dimples flashing, galloping down the court, my arms flailing like twin windmills. My forward kept gaining. l stumbled. Recovered myself. And then in a last burst of energya-and then, why the whistle blewl . . . Bye , and Sidney dances out again. filo think,'f comments a junior sardonically, that any Senior loves basketball enough to come back for practice on her free dayln