Nelsonville High School - Saga Yearbook (Nelsonville, OH)

Page 7 text:

The Scarlet and Gray 5 Timothy's Thanksgiving In the little town of Tipton there lives a man by the name of Timothy Winnepeg. ’ low his name suits him perfectly, and he is very proud of it. He is very short and fat, in truth quite wobbly on his short fat legs. His feet and hands were small. His head was very large, his eyes small and close together. His nose was short, but spread out fan shape. His ears stuck out from his head, and really he looked like “A tree full of owls,” as the expression is often used. His father is a Dutch farmer, or rather a retired fanner and his son is all he lives for. Being quite wealthy he is inclined to be lazy when there is work to be done. He sits for hours and gazes out over his farm thinking of the future happy years. Timothy does the same, but with an entirely different attitude, for he is thinking of the time when this farm will be his own and just how many limousenes the money will buy. Not that he wanted to hasten his father’s death at all, but the city is tempting him greatly. Now Timothy is quite romantic and in love with a young girl who lives on the neighboring farm, but who does not happen to care for him. For she loves a handsome good-for-nothing young chap by the name of Lew Wal- lac. who during the summer boards at their house. Each Sunday afternoon you can see Timothy walking along towards Pri- cilla’s house and in an hour coming home quite down hearted because Lew had come to call on Pricilla and had politely told him that “Two is compa- ny. three is a crowd.” Pricilla Deane was the only daugh- ter of Jacob Deane Esq., who was of English descent, another one of those old gentlemen who peacefully while their life away smoking their pipes. His daughter was to him what Mr. Winnepeg’s son was to him. This particular Sunday happened to be the one before Thanksgiving, which is always noted for good things to eat. Timothy had decided to ask Pri- cilla and her father over to their house for dinner but was rather uncertain as to whether she would accept the invitation or not As he slowly mounted the steps he tried to think of some thing to say but failed. He knocked and stood with rapidly beating heart until Priscilla came to the door. “Why er-a-good afternoon,” said Timothy, his heart in his mouth. “Won’t you come in.” “Er-a-certainly.” Now Timothy was not bashful, but on this occasion he was slightly uncomfortable. “I just came over to ask if you would spend Thanksgiving with us.” He said it very calmly but he felt far from calm. “Oh we had thought of spending Thanksgiving at home, but I will see what father says about it.” Presently she came back, her face all smiles. “Father said he would be delighted. He and your father are such good friends you know, like two old cron- ies.” Timothy could not trust himself to stay there any longer so arose to go. “Oh, my, you aren’t going so soon, 1 hope?” ‘ Well, I had better, as I just came for a few minutes.” “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She really wasn’t but she had to say something. “Good bye then until Thursday.” z With this he started home, all the wav he was unusually light hearted and happy. Their house keeper spent the day before Thanksgiving preparing the feast. A large turkey was killed, stuffed with dressing and roasted brown Pumpkin pies baked, white bread, ginger bread, a large cake and cookies. All of these goods things were stored away in the pantry. Sweet cider large rosy apples, chestnuts and candy, nothing was omitted. About ten o’clock the next day, Pricilla and her father came over to the Winnipegs. Such a feast had nev- er before been prepared. But just as they were sitting down to eat a loud shrill motor horn was heard. Timothy recognized the sound for he had heard it frequently and knew it belonged to Lew Wallace’s car. His heart actual- ly missed a beat. With an excited little iesture, Pri- cilla arose, excused herself and hast- ened out. Sure enough it was Lew. Continued on Page 7

Page 6 text:

4 The Scarlet from her seat on the floor in the cen- ter of the excited group. “Well, it’s too good to be true!” said one. “You’d better wait till you see Miss Huston before you get so gay,” Lorna Darmond remarked coolly. “That’s just like you to try and throw cold water on plans Lorna, but I’ve aready asked her and she said we could go!” Triumph shown in Betty’s deep blue eyes as she said this. Lorna, who boasted a “train of an- cestors,” as Bettv said was very jeal- ous of that young person’s place in the hearts of their chums. “Why, you don’t even know that she comes from a good family,” she used to tell the girls. “But Betty is a lady,” they would defend. , „ “Look at the clothes she wears. Loma’s pretty lips would cui 1 at the thought. Of course, Betty Brown was vastly different from the other girls. Com- ing from the Texas ranch, she had stuck to the khaki skirt, white shirt waist and brown walking shoes. The girls up to their Senior class had never attended social functions excepting their own little “spreads” in the big dining hall. For these they wore their school dresses. Now ot course, the first question was “dress- es,” and “what shall we wear?” “What shall you wear Peg?” sever- al of the girls asked. “Oh I think an orchid colored party f rock.” “Peg! You’ll be a dear in it. It will cuit your fair complexion and hair,” Louise Nolan said. “Flatterer!” Peggy’s eyes belied her snappy tone. “But what shall you wear Beilina mine?” “Oh, the new one, the blue one or the one 1 wore last 1 guess. Betty’s eyes twinkled. ‘ “Come now Prexy.” The girls' pet name ?or her, their little president. “I think I’ll get a leap green satin.” She beamed on them. “Pooh!” sniffed Lorna. “It would suit your red hair beautifully I am sure.’’’ fingering her own soft black braid. All the girls stared but Betty only smiled broadly and bowing low to her tormentor. “Well, I shall be in the character of a red rose then—red top and green leaves.” The girls laughed and Betty bound- and Gray ed away to answer the President of the Senior Class of Larson Academy. II. Thetime drew nearer for the big night. Lorna still persisted in speak- ing of her “fluffy canary colored dress” and voiced opinions of “green and red.” But Betty only smiled and nodded the mass of soft golden red curls if asked of her intention to wear her green satin. One day she and Peggy were dis- cussing the party. “Betty dear,” said Peggy, in her most coaxing tone, “Won’t you please tell me about your dress?” “Nope! It’s green. That’s all I’ll tell you.” “Bettina! Surely not green with your hair.” “Presactly! But I’ll tell you what I’ll do! I’ll bet you 1 wear a green dress. If I lose I go home with you. It you lose you go with me for the three weeks vacation. What say?” “Fine! Fine!” clapping her hands, Peggy cried out. Here Miss Huston interrupted them by sending for Betty. “S’ long! See you later!” she called out as she ran down the steps to the office. Half hour later she came up with “Everything’s ready! The dresses came yesterday. Such a stack of box- es.” Then as the news of the dresses spread such ah hub-bub as there was. Girls chattering gaily, all eager to show their dresses. That is, all but Betty and she refused to let anyone havve a peep at hers. III. It had come. It was nearly time for the cars to come for the girls. “Such an array of girls!” exclaimed Miss Huston as she came to the liv- ing room. “But I do wonder where Betty is?” Peggy fretted. “Wasn’t she in .your room when you came down?” Miss Huston said. “Yes, but she refused to dress be- fore 1 came down?” Peggy smiled. “Afraid you would laugh at her col- ors,” Lorna said sarcastically. “We will please not discuss others now,” Miss Huston’s voice was sharp. “But they are coming!” Advancing to the stairs she called “Betty! Hurry girlie!” “Coming,” chirped Betty. But Bet- ty proper was scarcely visible in the Continued on Page 7

Page 8 text:

6 The Scarlet and Gray Thanksgiving Day in TUabam Thanksgiving day has come, not one of those clear, snappy, frosty days that you hear about but a warn balmy day. In fact warm enough to make a fellow sweat with the least exertion. This sounds strange for we have nevei heard the word Thanksgiving but what we think of snow, cranberries and turkey. It will not sound so add when we say that this Thanksgiving we are talking about was in AlabanT, where B. V. D.’s are popular all the year round, and when they mention the word Thanksgiving down there they always thihk of roast ’possum, sweet taters and a rising thermomet- er. It was on such a day that Jefferson Lee, a short, heavy-set bachcelor about fifty years of age. sat on the veran- da in the front of his old colonial man- sion half asleep and half awake. His neck had become cramped and while making an attempt to straighten it out, he turned his head far enough over his shoulder to notice an old (larky approaching. “What do you want?” was his ab- rupt question. “Some clothes,” was the more ab- rupt reply. “Ah been thinkin’ as how dis war Thanksgiving you all might help a poor nigger ba givin” him some old clothes.” “Sure, I will if there are any. Go around to the back door and tell Ned, my man to look around and see if he can find those old shoes of mine. Care- ful not to go too near the back fence, my nephew has his blood hound tied there. “Thank ya, suh—thank ya, suh!” The old negro bowed himself out of sight around the corner and knocking at the back door, repeated what Lee had told him.. The butler finally found the shoes and the old negro thinking them most extraordinary decided to wear them home. After the agony of getting them adjusted to his corns he proceed- ed around the other side of the house. He was walking along admiring his recently acquired shoes when his nose suddenly caught an odor that made his mouth water and his eyes roll around. “Roast ’possum as sure as Ah live,” he remarked glancing upward at the open window. As if in a dream he re- membered reachcing upward and re- moving a plate with a large and beau- tifully roasted ’possum on it from the window sill. Remembei'ed clearing the back fence in one spasmodic leap, barely escaping the hound and arriv- ing home breathless but with a large brown ’possum, granished with sprigs of spearmint all ready to be eaten. The first news Jefferson Lee got of the theft was when Aunt Susan, his old colored cook came running to him crying and told him how she had set the possum on the sill to cool and turning around had found it missing. Mr. Lee’s nephew suggested they set the blood hounds on the trial and make sure of the thief, w’hile they went out to look over the plantation. The young man led the hound around to the window and after letting him get the scent of the thief, took him around front and turned him loose. Mr. Lee, who was in the woods back of his house heard that blood curdling howl as the hound took the trail. And just to make sure that there was no mistake he ran around in a circle a few times and walked rapidly to the other side of the field. The hound bounded into view, nose close to the ground and at every five leaps letting out one of those awTful yells. When he came to the place where Mr. Lee had stood he began to yelp confusedly and circled several times. The hair on the back of Lee’s neck befan to raise. A chill started at the back of his head and ran all the way down his spine. The hound was trailing him, and how to outwit him he did not know. He had heard of men delaying them by leaving some cloth- ing behind so he took off his light coat, (he really did not need it for he was perspiring freely) and rolling it in a bundle placed it in the bushes and took to his heels. The dog soon came to the coat and after tearing it to bits picked up the trail and started after Lee again. Our hero by this time was nearly out of breath and the dog was gaining on him every second. There was only one thing to do, climb a tree. So he selected a nice easy one and started for it. The doe- was not far from him but he gathered him- self for his dying effort and put all his