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

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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

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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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A PRAYER FOR THE NATION. To the Captain of the Ship of State, God grant, Oh, God! grant grace; For dark are the waves and the storm that raves; Oh God; hide not Thy face! At the harbor a light is shining tonight, May the captain ' s eye pierce through, May he steer through the breeze and the stormy seas, With a wisdom that ' s keen and true. For the blessing of a steady hand, We d know better how to thank. If a rougher hand were in command. Oh God! Lead us safe to the bank! May our crew be noble and strong and brave. Though through perils they ' re steering us long. May we patiently wait, thought it may be ' til late, That the right will have victr ' y o ' er wrong. We know not where the harbor lies. To which our captain would steer. May our courage not fail in the midst of the gale ; May our Captain ' s vision be clear. B. C. ' 12. The following Freshman note was found in the Assembly room. We hate to publish it but can ' t resist the tempta- tion: Dear John : Are you going to Margaret ' s party Saturday night? I am and I suppose I will have to walk home with some boy I hate or don ' t even know. Thank goodness ! I won ' t have to walk over with him. Do you want me to help you with your Algebra? I have all of my lessons. LUCILE. 98