North High School - Polar Bear Yearbook (Des Moines, IA)

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tried to brace himself by thinking of the knights and their heroic deeds, but they weren ' t very good bracers. Of course, if he had really been a knight and wanted a lady, he ' d grab her by her golden hair, sling her across his horse and ride off, but ' ' Dead Eye objected to this plan for himself, at the present. In the first place he hadn ' t a horse and in the second place, he didn ' t see how he was going to get her on the horse if he had one. Girls didn ' t like their hair pulled anyway. Of course, the ' ' Golden Haired One wouldn ' t cry or make a fuss but then — No! It wasn ' t a good plan. Suddenly two figures coming up the street caught his eye. Surely it was She of the Golden Hair and the — Why it couldn ' t be — Yes, it was. It was the shoe clerk ! Dead Eye ' s hands clenched. How dared that insig- nificant shoe clerk break up his plans? He, Dead Eye, the Fighter, the Terror, the Avenger. He ' d lead out his gang. He ' d — He had forgotten. He hadn ' t any gang. But never mind, he ' d challenge him himself. Dead Eye the Avenger had spoken. They would fight a duel at sunrise. Dead Eye lifted his head, swelled out his chest and, grasping his trusty wooden sword, advanced. When he was within a few feet of them and when he was about to issue his challenge, She of the Golden Hair spoke. Why, what a nice little boy ! What is your name, sonny, and does your mother know you are here? Dead Eye gave one astonished gasp and fled. He never stopped till he reached the loft in the old barn. Here he flung himself face downward on the hay. Dead Eye, the Avenger, was crying. And she didn ' t even know me, he sobbed. A nice little boy — this thought was too much for Dead Eye. He again burst forth into sobs. A half hour later he emerged, but his hair, which a short hour ago was brushed so smoothly, was touseled and 96

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as he thought of the coming conquest of the Golden Haired One. He sat down on the top of the low bureau and began to kick his heels idly. As he thought of the incidents of the morning, his face lost its bright look and soon wore a troubled expression. ' Tunky ' ' Stephens had rushed to him to tell him of the meeting to be held at the cave, but stopped short in amaze- ment at the sight of Dead Eye ' s clean face, blacked shoes, and combed hair. Yi ! Boys ! he yelled, Looky, Dead Eye. His Maw has washed his face. Wadsworth Jones, ain ' t you afraid to be out alone? Dead Eye made one move forward but Punky had fled, leaving the other boys grinning. Dead Eye offered to lick the whole bunch but they backed away in double quick time. Just the same, the atmosphere had changed. From his nick name which was dear to his heart, they had changed to Wadswor%ft74he hated and despised name which his paronts had bestowed upon him. It was a cruel world, but at the thought of the Golden Haired One, Dead Eye ' s troubled look vanished. Whis- tling cheerily, he started to leave the room. In the threshold his mother met him. Wadsworth, you — , she stopped and looked at him in amazement. Why, why, Wadsworth, my son! Dead Eye mentally groaned. She bent and kissed him. At last her motherly admonitions were taking effect. She always knew if she talked to him long enough he would do as she said. After all, Wadsworth was a dutiful son. During these reflections Dead Eye had made good his escape. He slipped quickly through his own gate and was soon at the Golden Haired One ' s gate. He opened it cautiously and went in. Should he walk up to the house and knock, or should he wait till she came out? Dead Eye debated with himself for a long time but couldn ' t quite pick up courage. He 95

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T mussed; his hands were dirtier than they had ever been before and his shoes were sights. He walked slowly down the street his hat pulled over his eyes and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Hey, Wadsworth, taunting voices called just back of e whirled and struck out blindly. Some one went down and yet another while the others fell back before the lust of battle in the eyes of the Avenger. Dead Eye stood before the gang, dirty and dishevelled, with a daring look in his eyes. Aw, ' Dead Eye ' , began Punky, in an apologizing tone, Ain ' t ya coming to the meetin ' at the cave? Well! maybe I am and maybe I ain ' t, responded Dead Eye sullenly. Aw come on, ' Dead Eye, ' everyone urged. Dead Eye lifted his head; his troubles had vanished; his smile came back for Dead Eye, the Fighter, Dead Eye, the Avenger Fvo. the Terror, had come into his own again. Allen J. : What is the difference between a vision and a sight? Conrad H. : Well, you can flatter a girl by calling her a vision, but don ' t call her a sight. Breathes there a man with soul so dead. Who never to himself hath said. When he stubbed his toe against the bed : J t ! t 9 ? ? ? ! ! ! ! — ? ? ? ? ATnrion B. : Did you tell Miss Granger that I couldn ' t Katie L. : No ; I thought she knew it. Harold M. : What is a cafe de luxe ? Mr. Teakle: About ten per cent cafe and ninety per cent looks. 97