Lincoln High School - Lincolnian Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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14 THE. LINCOLNIAN enough for two-five, I mean: and you will be happy and never have to worry. The widow saw Mr. Bell's glare and his rude behavior. Go home and tell your ma she wants you, Kenney, he said, push- ing Mr. Kenney out the door. Beat it quick! And Kenney did, after uselessly getting on his dignity and refusing to do any such thing, the widow's giggle making his ears burn. Now, you poor kid, l see through you like a piece of tissue paper. What you need is a guardian, so you won't get in trouble trying to be kind to silly fools. What do you mean? l am per- fectly able Oh, yes, you ain't. What I mean is-l'm an old fool, too, but l like your kids, and not having any of my own, l want yours. On the side, l want you. His face beamed and belied the on the side. He awkwardly ex- tended his arms and stood there, look- ing fond and foolish, until the widow made up her mind to accept him. You knew she was going to choose Mr. Bell, didn't you? l did, too, as soon as he neglected to write, for she was Irish and feminine.

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TH'E L1.N.c.oLNlAN I3 he arose, mopping his brow, and' said he would prefer to dry dishes. So he was out of the gameg only tem- porarily, it turned out, for he squan: dered several dollars on a pretty doll for Rosie, winning her heart com- pletely. I Mr. Bell behaved beautifully when called on to display his housewifely ability. He took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves and plunged into the soapsuds, his broad face contrasting happily with Mr. Benson's uneasy ex- pression the evening before. Not only did he wash the dishes, but skilfully swept up the crumbs from under the table, explaining that he had done it years before for his mother. Then, told to amuse the children, he organized a screamingly exciting game Lof tag, he himself sprinting nimbly about obstructions and contributing to the noise. Mr. Bell certainly has made a good showing tonight, reflected the widow. But l'll have to give him an extra test to make up for his not writing. And she laughed, showing that her affections were not deeply concerned. Mr. Kenney failed dismally in both trials, explaining that housework was the woman's job, and trying to im- prove John's mind by reading him a stupid poem about birds. John lis- tened interestedly, but told his moth- er later Mr. Kenney was an awful fool. njohnl you little villain, how can you! Mr. Kenney is a nice man. Maybe you think so. A Run along and call Rosie: it's getting dark. Things ran along for a month or more, when the Benson one proposed out of a clear sky. Er-Mrs. Mallory, l don't suppose -ah-l don't suppose 1 er 1 you'd marry me? The widow gasped and blushed and looked as if she had done something wicked. Subconsciously she noticed Mr. Bensorfs hair growing on the back of his neck, and she said: No, no, l can't, no, the children --Myra-no, l wouldn't. It was not very romantic, but it excluded poor Benson finally. About this time Mr. Kenney left town for a week and during his absence the little brown house was very quiet, Mr. Bell not putting in an appear- ance. When he did come he explain- ed that he had been helping to amuse his landlady's Eastern guests. The widow was piqued and planned a sud- den ending to the farce for the next week. Tuesday afternoon a sad voice asked Mr. Kenney over the 'phone to call that evening, and Mr. Bell's land- lady sympathetically took a message for him. Promptly at seven the two men arrived at the opening in the hedge around the little brown house, and, eyeing each other questioningly, hurried up the walk. The house was quiet, the shades were drawn, and a sober widow met them at the door. Come in, she said, controlling her countenance remarkably: this is to be a sort of farewell party. Farewell party! from Mr. Bell. Farewell party! from Mr. Ken- ney. Yes, l heard something this after- noon that will take us out of your circle. What, for lord's sake? Mr. Bell was disturbed. . Well, smiling as near wistfully as possible, you know my finances were limited, anyway, and now l have almost nothing, and l'll have to work in a laundry or somewhere to earn our living. No, neverl l'll sell all l own first! This manly exclamation came from Mr. Kenney. You will never be compelled to do that! l have

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' The Little Gray Mouse PRlNGTlME, the herald of the good old summertime, breathed vibrant life into the winter- chilled world. How the people of the eastern town of Dorset looked forward to its comingl One of its early fresh days brought many people out, on rambles thru the poplar-shad- ed walks and on jaunts into the neighboring countryside. Two girls had been enjoying themselves in this fashion and were now returning to their homes. The girls were chums. Elinor was beautiful in every feature, with cheeks of pink, eyes of blue, and hair slight- ly darker than golden: Anna was slender, and her only claim to beauty lay in her large, dark eyes and heavy, dark hair. As the two were strolling along the street they talked of their various interests. Oh, Anna, l wish you could see my new dress. lt's a perfect dream. Mamma just finished all yesterday ex- cept the collar, and l am going to sew the lace on it tonight. Then l will get my hat and pumps and when everything is completed l will show you how l will look on the evening of the dance. Clee was the keynote of Elinor's voice as she spoke. Then she added: How about it, Anna: aren't you real- ly going to this dance? Why do you always stay at home. when you could be having such a grand time? Come to this one, won't you, please? Anna nervously turned the mat- ter aside. Se did not want Elinor to know why she did not go. But be- cause of her shyness she was not popular with the boys: consequently, although she loved to dance, she was always a wallflower. At this point of the conversation a troop of four girls overtook them. They were a chattering, happy group of ravishing young creatures. They nodded carelessly and smiled to Anna, then burst into exclamation: with Elinor over the coming event, the first country club dance of the sea- son. Elinor, can we see your new dress now? Can we? Oh, please, Elinor. The four girls, arms locked togeth- er, leaned toward Elinor and pleaded. But she would not yield. ' No, girls, not yet, she said, play- fully. You said you wouldn't show me yours, so l won't show you mine. Oh, Elinor! Say, who is going to take you? Bud Fisher? burst in Tot Meredith, questioning Elinor. Elinor shook her head. Now, Tot, why not you tell us the name of your very dear friend? Tot blushed. Then Mary Strath- more broke into an interesting mys- tery. l wonder whom our new Doctor Richards is going to take? He's one fine fellow, l'll tell the world. Y' know, l think that smart Alice Ma- thew thinks he likes her. Her broth- er told my kid brother that Alice pre- tended she was sick and had her mother have him come in and see her. Guess l'll try the same stunt. l got to get my tonsils out, anyhow, giggled Edith Locke. Genial merriment spread over the little company. Well, Elinor, seeing you won't show us your outfit l guess we had better sprint, smiled Christie Thomp- son, in hope that Elinor might weak- en. A babble of voices ensued and then in a chorus of So longs! and Good-byesl the girls tripped gaily off, leaving Anna and Elinor alone. The two girls again resumed their