Medina High School - Mirror Yearbook (Medina, NY)

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P' The :Hilmar fr Burkbee nodded. Well, he's old Sproul. Mighty fine fellow. I used to work for him. Yeh, I used to be a salesman under him. Yep, he 's fine feller but he has his faults like all of us. He was always so particular about little things. I tell you it don't pay to bother about trifiesg life is too short. What people want to do is get out of the rut and enjoy themselves. Rec-kon that's so, said Burkee yawning. The proprietor turned to a child who had entered with a crock of butter. Picking a fly out of the butter he turned the crock in order to read the mark. It was somewhat blurred. Carefully using a blue pen- cil he changed the figures to a higher quantity. The rocket had at last reached its starting point. wb XX lf . Qs g 1.4511 Thirteen I 1

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if uni li ffl, silllbe Mirror - - - automobile tour. Twenty years of earnest, intelligent labor had earned its reward. He was now president of the Equity Wholesale Company. At this time he was taking the first vacation of his life. He had been traveling for a week, taking in the general boundaries of the Equity territory. About seven o'cloek one foggy spring evening he entered the small town of Casinola. The view which met his eyes was certainly not a tempting one. The streets were ploughed with ruts enough to have represented all the vehicles.,which had passed since the year one. Some of the houses were staunch brick or stone buildings, but the majority were only flabby frame structures, bleached by so many storms that they appeared as stark dreary ghosts in the center of the dried grass lots. Sproul motored along until he came to the general store and post office at Casinola. Hc decided to stop and replenish the fuel supply which he had neglected during the day. For the sake of the uninitiated, let it be known that the cross-road's store is the local associated press. It is the dynamic center around which the whole world revolves. It is the breeding place of avarice, rebellion, envy and unjust criticism. The general store is one of the vital capillary nerves of a nation. It is found, from Greenlan'i's icy mountains to India's coral strand. The building at Casinola was a remarkable wooden affair of no par- ticular color. With its sagging poreh plastered with ancient advertise- ments and decorated with countless bottles, boxes and tin cans, one might have mistaken it for a rheumatic old peddler of notions. Inside. the big stove occupied the center of the room, while around it like stal- actites were counters, barrels, oil cans, boxes, cheese, soap, flour and innumerable other articles. However, the most important objects in the room were those knights of the two legged, bottomless chair and the empty soap box. As Aaron Sproul opened the door, and gazed upon these degen- erate specimens of humanity, he felt a sickening disgust for them and their dusty shrine. He fought his way to the greasy counter through the fog caused by ten good cigars under forced draft. Facing him was a shirt-sleeved, unkempt, unshaven, individual. Try as he would, Sproul could not catch the weak, shifty eyes hidden under a mass of matted black hair. At last, securing his gasoline, Sproul made haste to leave the village of Casinola far behind, but as he sped on, something seemed to haunt him. Where had he seen that man before? Back in the store Lem Burkee shambled over to the counter. Heh, gimme my paper. As the proprietor handed over the denied paper, he said Did you notice that city feller in here a minute ago. 1 3. 1 1 I Twelve LM.

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The jlillirrur QAHENIT DREAMS FUNNY? EARL GOLDMAN HE eccentric, self-made millionaire sat gazing moodily into the fire. His brows were lowered, his mouth, pursed up, his left hand tenderly stroked l1is shaven chin, and his feet were stretched straight out in front of him. By these signs we knew what was coming. Soon he would open up with one of those stories which all millionaires are privileged to tell, especially self-made ones, about the time when they were poor, tattered and hungry. We poorer fellows in the elub had to stand those stories. Self-made millionaires can help a struggling man in many Ways. The rich man drew his feet up under him, and he stroked his chin with his right instead of his left hand. It was drawing nearer, we sat tense, expeetaut. ' I say, but dreams are funny things, mused the old millionaire, still gazing into the fire. H Yes? murmured Hlakesly, the corporation attorney. How's that? asked W. Robert Gregory, who had little but his imposing name and a dot-tor's certificate. Let's see, about thirty, no forty years ago I was a poor, hard- working boy, ragged and half-clothed all the time and hungry most of the time, drawled out the old man. He always started that way. By his amused little chuckle and sidelong glance to see how we took his hit of information, I am willing to swear that he thought the opening to be original every blessed time. Not really? l breathed. I had heard it only some fifteen or twenty times. Yes, honestly! Wouldn't think it to look at me now, eh ! and he glanced down 1-omplaceutly at his portly waist line. How interesting, please go on l murmured the lean Mr. Blakesly, a desperate look coming to his eyes. Well, I was about seventeen or eighteen then. But times weren't tl1en as they are 11ow. A young fellow had to work pretty hard for three or four dollars a Week. I had lost my job for sonic reason or other and, falling behind in my rent, I was kicked out. Foot weary from looking for Work, almost broken in heart and spirit, having no relatives or friend, I almost gave up hope. One night after a particularly hard day I lay down in my favorite alley box and, saying a little prayer, curled up and went to sleep. It didn't take any time after I went to sleep before I'd found a job in the shipping department of a wealthy firm, I received fine Wages and a good opportunity for advancement. The 'Boss' noticing my , l l - I 3 Fourteen I ' u.i 'I .. 'F sm I I ..l