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

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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 — '

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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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26 BLUE AXU CRAY She backed away from him, luilf I ' l ' l-ilitciicil, her cheeks flushed, yet her eyes twinkling. Oh I must run an ' tell (ienevieve — something I ' ve learned — of a mistake she made in her last story. ' Tell me, Jane. Possihly 1 can sh(i ' you more nustakes. Hut you ' ve taught me this. See. she jjointed the eastern hori- zon, silvery with the rising moon. I didn ' t know it was thei ' e — till now and I know it isn ' t the moon that makes me feel — Jane! but she had fled. Twas noon in Martinville. Across her dusty, uninviting main thoroughfare torrid heat waves wavered lazily. Save for a horse seamping nervously, switching her tail and flinching her flanks at editor Samuel Martin produced a letter from the pocket and tore the insistent flies that |)estered her with tantalizing buzzing, the street was desolated. In the office of the Martinville News, assistant it open hungi ' ily, forgetting the oppi ' essiveness of tlie heat in his eagerness. He heard the boss enter. Wonder why the deveil he don ' t take time to eat, growled tlie assistant. The editor glanced fui-lously over his nephew ' s shoulder. That ' s Jane ' s handwriting. 1 suppose it ' s another one of those d d manuscripts. No, Uncle, it ' s a letter. Then I suppose it explains this letter addressed, ' The Editors of Martinville News. ' I don ' t see any reference to it. The bloomin ' idiot that wrote thi.s should have his head broken. ' The Editors ' , Oh the fool! As if I ' d take my hopeful nephew into partnership. Hello, it ' s from old Silas Hooper! Well I ' ll be switched! No, I ' ll be worse than switched! Here ' s the mortgage he ' s held against me for the last ten years and congratulations — to my nephew. Hear that Sam? But the assistant was busy reading. Huh! So it ' s a letter from Jane. The embarrassed assistant lighted a cigar. Samuel, I forbid you smoking that cigar. His eyes drifted to the mortgage. However, Samuel, you may try one of these. They ' re Havanas. Hello, here ' s a lettei ' from (Ienevieve. Doesn ' t look as if she had much to say. Brief but sweet it was : Dear Uncle Jake: Jane said you tried to teach me something, liut you didn.t. Arthur taught me. Tt wasn ' t the moon at all. G. C. — Thomas Kleekner, ' 15.