Mountain View Union High School - Blue and Gray Yearbook (Mountain View, CA)

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20 BLUE AND ( ,RAV tlie I ' ottciu ' St and the inusliicst. Who in tlniiidi ' i- liad tlic Miidacity to shi|) us that ' ! Tlif assistant grinni ' d triumphantly at his uncde. A suceuss- ful oilitor is never irritable. lie must hohl his temper no matter how humil — Wlio ' s that from? demanded the editor, fairly choking- with rag ' e. Of all the — ' ' From a Miss Jane Iloopei-. Poi-tland, Oregon. What! ' From a Miss Jane Hooper, Port — Well, I ' ll be switched. Why? No. I won ' t be switched. I ' ll be worse than switched. Jane Hooper is my first cousin. Oh, then, said the assistant with sarcasm, I suppose then we ' ll ha e to print it because of the endearing ties of relationship. The endearing ties of relationship be hanged. We can ' t accept such I ' ot. It would be idiotic. Send ' em back? And yet — and Samuel — oh hang it all, 1 suppose we ' ll have to print ' em. Her dad is backing — well — you understand — the new presses — we are a trifle in debt. But dog gone it. we ' i-e in debt to him, Old Silas Hooper. Then — then we ' ll have to accept this and pay her for it! Huh! We ' re up against it, growled the editor, jabbing his hands in liis trouser pockets. Sam, think. For the first time in your life think. To print that rot is ruination and yet — shipping ' em hack is worse. Couldn ' t we kidanp hei- ? Couldn ' t we kill the insjiiration of her ingeniousness ? We could encourag-e hei ' ingeniousness. What! Encourage her. Tell her she lacks training — experience — any- thing. Tell her she needs to learn of other spheres than her own — that she must travel. We could send her on a trip an ' while she ' s goiu ' we could think. We could at least posti)one the misei-y ' till the next monthly supplement. l!y George, Sam, I ' ve got it. We ' ll seiul lu ' r on that ocean trip your friend, the artist, is making. ' Is Jane — er — Miss Hopper unmarried? Yes, and likely to })e for some time. She ' s past twenty-five. The assistant grinned. Art ' U fall for her. He ' s a genius, (ienei are boobs. And you know all that rot about ' fowl of a feather ' or something of the sort. By Jove, Sam, you are thinking. We ' ll send Jane an ' her sis- ter Genevieve for company, on the same trip with your friend, and we ' ll tag along to promote affairs an ' — well, incidentally, we ' ll make ' em learn. The editor grinned. We ' ll make ' em learn that the ' silver radiance ' don ' t figure in love — that it ain ' t the moon. The editor ' wrote: Dear Cousin Jane: We have received yours of the 14th and are delighted to note a remarka})le improvement over your first writings. Speaking frankly, cousin, we are pleased to state that your work shows signs

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19 Jt Wasn ' t thr Maon T ' WAS noon in l;ii-tinville. Across her tlusty, uninviting main thoi ' ouglifai-f torrid lieat waves wavered lazily. Tlie iiot, mid- suniraer snn heat unmercifully ilown on the glaring, hot side- walks. Save for a horse stamping nervously, switching her tail and flinching her flanks at the hordes of buzzing, insistent flies, the street was desolated. In the office of the Martinville News, assist- ant editor Samuel Slai-tin scowled ii ' ritahly over the work before him. lie was hot, tired, hungry, and worst of all, nervous. The building offered little protection against the blazing sun. The air was stifling. liy the front window a blow fly buzzed. That increased his nervousness. The impatient horse stamped her foot and jerked at her halter, causing the ring of the iron hitching post to jingle noisily. The assistant lost his temper. Why the devil don ' t the boss come back? He ' s been gone long enough for two dinners. He threw down his pen and rose for a drink. The water was tepid, nauseating. He drew a cigar from his waistcoat and seated himself at his desk to resume his work. Again the fly buzzed; again the horse stamped. The assistant chewed furiouslj- at his cigar with a muffled curse, then again scowled at his work with a counterfeited intenseuess. The boss entered. Samuel, smoking is strictly forbidden during office hours, especially during my absence. People will think that you are wil- fully disobedient. If ,vou expect to succeed as an editor, you must learn to abide strictly by the I ' ules of a superior. Samuel Martin tossed the otfending weed into a cuspidor, the scowl deepening. He hated sermons such as his uncle was con- tinually giving. And furthermore, Samuel, a successful editor never is im- patient or irritable. He must hold his temper no matter how humili- ating or obnoxious his work or dealings with others may be. Just for fun, suggestetl the assistant, listen to some of this from one of these manuscripts. This, by the way, is the sixth story from the same person since you started the monthly supplement. Here ' s the ending of the rotteuest, mushiest ' ' romance I ' ve seen : He looked deeply into Jasmine ' s soft, melting, blue eyes. ' Jasmine! Oh Jasmine! sobbed Oliver, my very soul will oxidize if you answer me wrongly. Jasmine, tell me. Jasmine, my own, tell me that you love me. Just say ' Yes. ' ' And then upon the lovers rose the moonful and shining-sil- very through the upper mists. And that self-same moon, which, for countless generations has faithfully governed the waters of earth, l)eamed kindly down upon them, and the same mysterious power which so bewitches earthly waters, bewitched the lovely maiden, for her soft answer was given in such tones as are known only by lovers. T ' was a kindlier smile; a softer silver radiance that twinkled from the bewitcher ' s beaming face as he watcheil the two embrace. ' The editor was furious. Of all the rot I ' ve ever heard that ' s

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BLUE AXD GRAY 21 of genius. However, we expect far l)etter and more polished stoi ' ies from you in the near future and, to liasten the improvement, we enclose a ticket and a cheek which will cover expenses for an ex- tended ocean trip, which we are certain will greatly lu ' oaden your now excellent knowledge of fiction. We remain yours ever — both in business and in friendship. The Editors. P. y. We hope your next works will l)e romantic, the underly- ing theme being love . T. E. Twas dusk upon the walers. Cape l ' lanco s light house had just begun to twinkle, ])ithling farewell to the soutlibound vessel. All about the decks lounged the jiassengers on this sultry evening, an evening early in fall. Lovers strolled casually along with senti- mental gazes directed toward each other. Hilent, comfortiible look- ing gentlemen puffed contentedly at their pipes. An aged, grey- haired couple, smiles in placid silence. Yet among this peacefulness and piietude two men, one ith temples touched with gray, the other young and business-like, talked in earnest tones, unappreci- ative of the beauty of the scene. We 11 introduce your friend Arthur to Jane, suggested the elder, and we 11 see to it that (Jenevieve is so entertained that she won t hinder the develo|)ment of their acquaintance. ' The younger gentleiium assented with a noil. Hut first we must get Arthur in a eoi ' uer and have a serious talk Mith him. Tell him of — Oh, yes, 1 understand, ' interrui)ted the elder. Here he comes now. Leave the talking to me. A third party approached. He was of medium height, notice- ably broad. His first characteristic which would command the at- tention of the casual observer was the dreamy, far-away expression of his eyes and the sad drooping of his mouth. Yet his step was decisive, his walk athletic. Do you know, said he, there is nothing like an ocean trip to stimulate one s artistic sentiments. 1 have already at least a dozen ideas for both pictures and political cartoons. ' 1 certainly agi ' ee with you. Art, assented the younger num. What do you think, Mr. Martin? Well, to tell the truth, Arthur, I don t go much on this ' artistic sentiment business, although 1 do thoroughly believe that an ocean trip is exceedingly helpful to an artist and even more so to a per- son interested in literature. In fact I happen to know of a young lady accomi)anied by her sister who is making this trip in order that she may thoroughly fit herself for the world of fiction. 1 should like you to meet the ladies. They are personal fi ' iends of mine. Nix on that acquaintance business. I want solitude. Tve a purpose in mind and have no intention of wasting my time making lady acquaintances. ' You ' ll like em Art, ' assured the editoi ' . Ask 8aiiiurl. I don t think inui-ii of Sam s judgments on such iiialtcrs. Sam 11 fall for anything cute in iietticoats. They ' ere both snuirt girls, said the assistant. Xone of that liuttei ' fly life for me. I ' x ' e got a pur|iose and T can carry it out onlv in solitude.