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

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24 BLUE AND GRAY Sluiuks. liL ' said that 1 lacked that iKTsonal iiiagin ' t — ' Vou lack ordinary grey matter. ' Besides, Miss Genevieve is duced jiretty and ] Iiss Jane why she ' s getting old — she ' s wrinkled about tlie mouth. They ' re wrinkles of mirth. And she has dark eyes — sure sign ol ' barhai ' isui. ' They twinkle. ' ' And her lip — too red to be natural. ' They ' re duced kissal)le. Besides you might iiavr shown hri ' eourtesy by not leaving as you did. Miss Genevieve suggested it. She wanted to watch the union rise. Jt was full last night and looked like a silver dollar. Say, do you know, old man, I ' ve always considered myself fairly sensible ovei ' women, but now — I ' m fairly insane and feel as romantic as a lovesick school boy. I ' ve often heard that the ocean and ronumtie circumstances — say 1 wonder — I wonder if it could have lieen that silvery moon ! ' ' 0 darn, growled the assistant. For three successive evenings Samuel Martin, assistant editor for the Martinville News, alternately cursed his friend of artistic temperament and danced with Miss Jane Hooper. On the fourth evening he was inditt ' erent ; on the fifth, interested. He w as now impatiently awaiting the arrival of the sixth. From the ship ' s librarian he had purchased a book containing advice to young novel- ists, through wliich he I ' unnnaged, cramming his restless memory with knowledge which he thought might l)e useful in his talks with the authoress. So far during the voyage she had not mentioned the subject of literature. He hoped she would never mention it, yet he was determined to pi-epare himself for the worst. He was to meet her at eight. The hands of his watch marked seven-thirty. He scowled irritably as the little minute luind ticked off, with slow hesitating ticks, the dragging seconds. He again brushed his neatly parted hair, hitched his tie, arranged his scarf pin, and during his anxious waiting, utterly forgot to curse Collins. Engagement, Samuel? asked the editor. Yes, for the entire evening. I asked Arthur in for a game of pinochle but he, too, has an engagement. I supjiose things are running smoothly. ' ' Perfectly. I suppose he is teaching her to draw. Ves. Arthur says she learns (piickly. The editor grinned. Birds of a feather, y ' know. I said she was a genius. Vou said Miss Jane was, not Miss Genevieve. I ' m speaking of Jane. But he ' s not teaching Miss Jane. Miss Genevieve ' s his pupil. What! He ' s teaching Miss Genevieve. They ' re uji on the deck draw- ing the moon and clouds. O the idiot, the blundei ' ing hypocrite! Wiiat ' s got into him? And you, you infernal parasite, whom are you to meet?

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BLUE AND GRAY 23 can start you in hy introducing you to the ladies whom I men- tioned. They are probably in tiie l)all room; the music has liegun. Xow. tlien, a few pointers. Flattery, in a good many instances, is an excellent helj). To demonstrate I ' ll instruct you and Sam what to do. Xow Sam is ([uite handy as a talker, so I ' ll have him break the ice. The elder girl is the one with whom you should talk; she is an authoress — in a different line from you. She doesn ' t dance, yet she would blush with pleasure if she were asked. Sam, you ask her to dance after you inti ' oduce Arthni ' , just to show what flattery will do. Understand? We understand, and the trio left for the l)all room. The editor looked intei ' estcdiy on as the two younger men pro- ceeded toward the ladies. Gee! The younger one is a peach, exclaimed the artist in an undertone. Why in the dickens doesn ' t she write? Never mind the looks, mind the intellect. Ah! Good evening. Ladies. Good evening, Mr. JIartin, they smiled. I should like to acquaint you with a college friend, Mr. Arthur Collins. Collins, Misses Jane and Genevieve Hooper. The usual light just-after-acquaintance-remarks followed, such as concerning the weather, trip, and the delightfulness of — etc. The assistant glanced concernedly at his companion, who was making poor progress with conversation with Miss Jane. Miss Jane, said lie imploringly, may I enjoy one of the profoundest of pleasures — that of dancing with you ' ? ' ' To his unspeakable embarrassment and amazement slie nodded delightedly, rose and began tapping her foot in time with the rliytlniuc music. She took his arm and assurance that he felt faint ;ind dizzy in spite of his healthy robust youth. Filled with anger, disgn.st, and embarrassment he took her, as soon as he could courteously do so, to her seat. To his further humiliation his friend and Jliss Genevieve had gone to the deck. An hour later, tilled with I ' emorse, he left hei ' and went to his state room, which he and his uncle had shared together. I thot you said Jliss Jane di ln ' t dance, he accused his uncle. She didn ' t, when T saw her last. Then sarcastically, but Geniis learn quickly. ' Twas early the following moi-ning that the worried artist con- fronted the assistant editor. I thought your uncle said Miss Jane didn ' t dance? She didn ' t, but Geniis learn quickly. T thought you didn ' t dance. I ' ve heard you say it was a waste of time. I learned exceptionally (piickly. l y Jove! old iiuin, maybe — maybe I ' m a — Collins, you ' re an ass, a pei ' fect ass. I wanted you to talk with Miss Jane. But you said she was an authoress. That ' s too nearly like me because I, too, am interested in literature. I was following your uncle ' s advice and acquainting myself with the views —

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BLUE AXD GRAY 25 The young ' assistant jjlacidly liriislicd liis imiiiaciilatcly partcil hair. Miss Jane, he answered. What! ] Iiss Jane! cried the enraged eidtor. Wi ' ll. what in the tlevil ' s wrong with you? ' I donno. Something ' s influeneed me, an 1 (h)n ' t know whal it can lie unless it ' s — the moon. And through the small room echoed the cursings of the editor, hut his assistant had gone. At eight-thirty he and Jliss .lane left the hall room for the cool refresliing air of the deck. Do you know, Mv. ] Iartiii. that 1 ■ ' e lieen di ' eadfully wicked? lie lookecl at her upturned face, flushed rosih- from the dance. ' ' Wicked. Yes. And I ' ve a confession to make if you ll promise to make one to me. Will you ? Go ahead. Confess, jMiss Jane. Ladies first, you know. ' It ' s essential that you confess first. Will you promise? ' I promise. What awful sins must I confess? ' Tell me whether it was actu dly worth your time looking over those stories. ' Martin stammered. She interrupted, and whether it is worth while encouraging the writer? Answer yes or Xo! ' But, Miss Jane, your stories — Answer directly ' yes ' or ' no ' . Well, no, but— Tliat is sufficient. Now one more question hefore I make my confession. Now that you know me, do you think me capable of writing such foolishness? Xo. ans vere(l Martin, decidedly. Well — 1 tlidn ' t write them. What! Her eyes began to twinkle. Genevieve ' s guilty. ThaiikGod, Mingled with the crisji ocean breezes was a tantalizing sweet- ness, not of perfume — but sonu ' thing which she radiated — some- thing which drew him nearer, rnconsciously his hand sought hers. And Jane, when you I ' eceived the letter, what did you think when you were instructed to write of love — romance? Oh I was mean, jealous to think that Genevieve would use my name and then receive such a reward. 1 was just as hateful as I could be, and yet she was innocent. .She didn ' t know it was wrong to use another ' s name. IJut the letter — didn ' t you, until now. Ihiidv that it sounded ( ' !■ — imjirobable ? ' I didn ' t think a thing about it until — Until— Until 1 met you. Then I thought— Jane, you thought — Why, when Genevieve was writiug of love — why. she blushed. I just thought — Jane! Don ' t, Samuel. Xot so close, i)eoph ' — people ai ' c looking. ' But, Jane, if — if we were alone — '