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Page 15 text:
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CIW!! STOCKS AND BONDS VERSUS BASKETBALL By MARY GUDERIAN Turn in your suit, you can't come on the floor again. But, Coach- Never mind-get out and stay out. Bill walked slowly across the gymnasium, and as he went out the door he muttered to himself, What a fool I've been. I get a chance to play on the team and then go and act like a perfect ninnyf' Bill was an apt boy, a Junior at Cornwall-the best boys' school in the state of Michigan. At his father's death, he had been left scads of money. This winter his mother was in Italy, consequently, Bill resided at the dormitory. Bill thought of none of them now, money, Italy, or school. Basketball was foremost in his mind. He crossed the campus, conscious of little about him. He hopped into his roadster and was about to turn on the ignition when A'Pea- nuts Gordon called from a window in the dorm, A'Bill, a telegram for you! Rats, mumbled Bill, 'spose Uncle Mort's comin' to town again. He entered the hall and found that his guess had been right. The telegram MR WILLIAM PORTAGE LINCOLN HALL CORNWALL INSTITUTE GRAND RAPIDS MICHIGAN BILL COMING ON BUSINESS STOP 9 P M TRAIN STOP MEET ME IE CONVENIENT UNCLE MORT Bill crumpled the telegram and tossed it in the general direction of the waste basket-then he went out. Why does that guy have to come now? I'm in a bad enough mess without some relative snoopin' around. Uncle Mort wasn't of much interest to Bill, he didn't talk about a thing but stocks and bonds, and so when Bill drew up to the station that evening he did not look forward with joy to seeing his Uncle. Little was said on the way to the hotel, but after arriving there and reservations taken care of, the two sat down in the lobby to talk. To Bill's surprise his unclebegan, Well, Bill, I read in the Sports Column that you made the regular quint. Congratulations, boyl I often wondered why you didn't go out for sports more than you did. With your physical and mental ability you ought to be the star player. Huh? grunted Bill in amazement. Uncle Mort not talking about stocks and bonds! Bill, I suppose that you'll be surprised when I tell you that I once was a star basketball player too, but because I had plenty of moneyrand knew I was a brilliant player, I thought I could run the coach. He got tired of my line and kicked me off the team. If I had had any sense about me I should ha've apologized and acted like a sport but I was too good for everybody around there so I never did give in-I've regretted it many times since. Oh pshaw, you don't want to hear my tale of woe, but you make up for your conceited uncle, will you? 'AI surely will, Uncle Mort, said Bill-what was there to say? He couldn't tell Uncle Mort that he was a piker, too. Next day Bill walked into the gym, squared his shoulders-then knocked on the coach's ollice door. The coach admitted him and told him to be seated. read: Page Eleven 4
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Page 14 text:
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Page 16 text:
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THE After he had finished telephoning, he turned to Bill questioningly. Bill spoke to him at once, A'Well, Regan, I've been a fool, and I'm here to admit it, I've come to apologize to you for my ugly attitude, and if you'll consider me for the second team, I'll be awfully glad. Regan replied, friendly but sternly, Bill, l'm glad you're a man about this proposition. You can come back to the first team and I'll be glad to have you there, too. Just remember, I'm paid to coach, and I don't want you to take my job away from me. Bill rose and shook hands with Regan, and as he passed through the door called, I'll see you at practice, Coach, HO. K., replied Regan. Bill whistled as he crossed the campus, and climbed into his roadster when 'lPeanuts called from the dorm window, 'lTelephone, Bill. Bill ran to the hall and answered it. It was Uncle Mort. A'Bill? l'Yes. I read by the paper that you're off the quint. Is that true? Naw, Uncle Mort-that's past history-I apologized. 'AGood for you, Bill. I'm mighty proud to 'have a nephew like you! A'Proud, Mort? You're the one who did it, you switched your talk from stocks to basketball. Mort laughed, Say, Bill, come down and have dinner with me, tonight, and we won't talk about bonds, either! Hope By MINNIE LEE, '31 A dark and dreary scene: a hurricane, Its roaring, hollow moaning never stilled, Its cutting, sweeping wildness never sane, Whips an angry sea with white-caps frilled. The smashing, lashing waves of ebon dark Are ever beating time on barren shore And jagged cliffs that tower bleak and stark, lmmovable against wild skies. What more Could make it seem so desolate, so drear? Then gradually a change, Hrst, one small ray Announces dawn. The radiant skies are clear, The sun arises changing dark to day. So, oft in life when only gloom is seen Comes hope, a ray of light, and all's serene. Bumble Bees By ANGELINE Hootie, '31 Little bowls of honey flying o'er The flow'ry world that then much sweeter seems Than fairy lands of Poet's summer dreams, Humming busy songs, all filled with lore Of dulcet days, and clouds that soar, You linger longest where the sunshine gleams, And kiss the Hower that with nectar teems Such as Jove drank in happy days of yore- Give me a life as sweet as that to live, And teach me, Nature, where the line things are, And how to be, like bees that swarm above: One of the whole, to work and sing and give A sweetened heart, though I must fetch it far. Oh, ill me up with sunshine and with love. Page Twelve
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