Lyndon State College - Northern Lights Yearbook (Lyndonville, VT)

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V E R L Y N of the Grand Circuit Drivers’ Associa- tion? You have driven one of the most savage race horses on the tracks of America in company. Also you have driven without permission and under a false name. Now what have you to say for yourself?” “Mr Keyes, and friends, I realize that I have driven my own horse in a race for the simple reason that I could get no one to drive him for me. They were all afraid of him. I have never, since I have had him, seen him do a mean thing. If I had thought that he would cause an accident I would never have attempted to drive him, but after I found out the cause of his mean disposition and removed that cause, I found that I had removed the disposi- tion, itself. As for driving without per- mission, I knew that you would never permit me to drive if I asked you, be- cause Lucky has such a bad reputa- tion. So I simply changed my appear - ance and drove, and I don’t see why I didn’t do it all right, if I may say so.” “You drove well enough, Miss Sher- man, but that is not the point. The point is this, you are not a man, you are driving a horse that should not be on the track, and the other drivers do not like to drive with this horse.” “Well, my gosh! If all that is wor- rying you is whether I can handle the horse or not, just try me. Tell me what you want me to do to prove that I can handle him,” exclaimed Jean. “All right, score your horse down thirty times. He was always the mean- est about scoring. If you can still handle him, you may finish the race,” Keyes told her, and winked at Davis. “O. K., I’ll do that!” She shook hands with Keyes and started for the stables. As the 2: 25 horses came back to the stables Jean went out with Lucky, praying inwardly that Lucky would be himself to-day. After she had brought him to the starting position twenty-five times without mishap, the crowd was wild! They were cheering for her, she knew. She wondered what the judges were thinking. When the thirty scores were completed, Earl was there with a blanket and a piece of sugar for Lucky. “Boy! You sure showed ’em!” he exclaimed as he took the reins. “Thanks, Earl,” she cried gleefully. ‘I’m just dying to see their faces up there! I’ll be right over.” She climbed the stairs to the stand and stood before the judges. “Well?” she queried as they did not speak. “If this horse is allowed to race, 1 draw my horse!” said Sam. “Me too!” “Same here!” from his friends. The crowd in the grand stand hoot- ed. Those in the Judges stand looked up amazed and realized that they were too close to the microphone and that the crowd had heard. The judges look- ed at each other, at Sam and his friends and then at Jean. “Well, I might consider racing,” said one of the drivers sulkily. The crowd roared again. “Do I race?” queried Jean. “No, your horse does,” said Keyes and grinned sheepishly. “Thanks a lot! Is that all?” cried Jean. “Yes, I believe so. Thank you,” muttered Keyes. “Oh, Miss Sherman,” ventured the youngest of the three judges, as Jean [22]

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January - 1938 Hurry now!” Earl went off looking very skeptical about the whole plan. Soon he return- ed with Tom’s coat and cap. ‘‘Here, give it to me, then get me your navy blue suit. Don’t stand and gape! Hurry! Bring your white shoes, too. You shall have more clothes— don’t look so worried.” Earl produced the articles. “Now hurry and get Lucky ready for warm up. I’m warm- ing him up. A new driver has to get used to his horse, you know.” With the aid of numerous cosmetics, Jean was transformed into a nice look- ing young man, slightly sunburned from his trip. After warming Lucky up, she pro- ceeded to wait for race time. At last the voice in the judges stand rang out, ‘‘All ready for the free-for-all horses, all ready.” Earl brought Lucky out and started to help Jean on as he always did. She whispered hoarsely ‘‘Get away!” and shook her head violently. She was thankful that the bystanders were gaz- ing with rapture at the beautiful build of Lucky just then. ‘‘Good luck,” called Earl, and Jean raised her hand to her cap in a mascu- line manner, hoping she looked as mas- culine as she had intended to be. In the first heat Lucky Guy got off to an excellent start and in a few sec- onds had the “pole”—inside lead of the track. During the last half of the heat, however, Gertrude Homestead began to overtake Lucky. Jean was expecting this and spoke to Lucky, who shot ahead at a terrific speed. Down the stretch they thundered, Gertrude Homestead creeping up all the time. Jean spoke again to Lucky, and he be- gan leaving Gertrude Homestead in the dust. Under the wire they went, Lucky in the lead. Jean gave Earl the reins and walked along behind, as the other drivers did, because she didn’t want to attract at- tention even if her knees were trem- bling. Sam Davis, who had driven Gert- rude Homestead, came along and slap- ped her on the back. “Williams,” he said, “You drove good!” “Thank you,” said Jean before she thought. He had surprised her so that she spoke in her natural voice. Sam grabbed her. “Say, what is this? Do you think you’re doin’ somethin’ smart, endangerin’ everybody’s lives? I thought it was you all the time, but I wasn’t sure. You had better make up your mind not to race that four- legged piece of horse-flesh any more!” With that he turned and headed for the judges’ stand. Jean walked on thoughtfully. She had been found out, her father would know it, and she might even be compelled to leave the Grand Circuit Driver's Association with her horse for five years. That would please her dad! How he hated to have her go “galivantin’ ” — as he called it — around to the meets. She had no sooner reached the stables when the judge’s voice called her to the stand. Well, she’d put up a good fight, anyway. When she reached the stand Sam Davis and his friends were there. She ignored them and faced the judges. She was asked to be seated and Mr. Keyes began with no preliminaries. “Miss Sherman, you realize that you have committed a crime in the eyes [21]

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January - 1938 was leaving. “Yes?” “After you drive, are you ever hun gry?” “I’m always starved? Why?” “I thought we might have dinner to gether some place.” The crowd roar- ed; he started and blushed. That micro phone again! Building A Pyramid In V History Class By RUTH WALKER For more than four thousand years that massive memorial, the Great Pyr- amid of Gizeh, has stood unchallenged upon the burning sands of Egypt, peer- less in grandeur, supreme in achieve- ment. and unexcelled in magnificence until the year 1937 A. D. What soothsayer of 2900 B. C. could have foreseen that a mere four thou- sand eight hundred and thirty-seven years afterward, over the grains of dust on the floor of Room 13, there was destined to arise another Colossal Glory, unparalled before in the history of man? The courage, the foresight, and the ingenuity it required to obtain the lime- stone blocks alone is an example of the stupendousness of this undertaking. Messengers were sent to the distant corners of the earth to order countless tons of this material, in the shape of ungainly cardboard boxes, often deli- cately frescoed with spectacular heiro- glyphics (which the skillful appliance of several layers of calcimine would not wholly conceal). The Egyptians can boast nothing of the effort it required to roll their mas- sive blocks up the inclined sides of the Great Pyramid. As compared with the treacherous ascent up Institute Hill and the maneuvering of those unwieldy boxes through three entrances and a crowded passageway, it was nothing. Furthermore, who can estimate the perils encountered in creating this noble edifice, the danger of being en- closed forever while laboring in its gloomy interior, or of becoming for- ever a permanent part of its walls through too close contact with the ad- hesive tape. Behold, now, how peerless the struct- ure stands, how gracefully its sides slope away in exquisite symmetry to- ward the horizon. From the lofty summit, if one dared risk ascent, lies revealed below the City of the Dead. This may be viewed from eight o’clock in the morning un- til four o’clock at dusk. Alas, the futility of man and his ac- complishments. Must all crumble away to dust and oblivion? The Glory of Room 13 at least has been spared such an indignity. Rather did we prefer to see our Wonder of the Modern World disappear in one last heroic flame sky- ward and perish amid the ashes. [23]