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Page 18 text:
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14 THE MIRROR you wish today, sir? she said demurely. We have some nice lobsters. Yes, she ' s keeping a fish shop. I didn ' t wish anything and went on my way. On entering Greenwich Village, I noticed an artistic young lady clad in a red and orange checkered smock, hustling down the street. It was the famous artist, Elinor Tomlinson. I attempted to speak to her, but she had no time, evidently, for she kept on going. Rather taken aback by the color of Miss Tomlinson ' s smock, I dropped into a book store to catch my breath. Here, whom should I see but the eminent authoress, Miss Louise Sherman, whose latest novel, Divorce, so startled the world. We got to talking on socialism, thus bringing up the subject of the book she is now writing. It seems that she has come in contact with a hopeless bun fiend, Harriet Leonard. This frightful habit, originated at North Shore, where Harriet ate buns every recess. The title of Miss Sherman ' s next book is to be ' ' The Dangers of Bun Eating and Why. While here, who should enter but the renowned charity worker, Miss Eleanor McEwen. She deigned to speak with me, and told me of the wonderful work she is doing. We congratulate Miss McEwen on her admirable work among the starving society children and hope she will keep it up. I decided I had now seen enough and came home. My only comment on the trip is, ' ' What is New York coming to Senior Sayings Holy: Wait a minute, let me think. ' ' Now I em nut. I ' m bashful! English: Whoopie! I-I-l . . . Percy: You don ' t say! It ' s all right but it doesn ' t mean anything. Lou: Well, I dunno, but. Elly: I ' d just adore to. Issy: Ohoo, I can ' t either. Marce: Cut it out, I think you ' re perfectly nasty. Benny: Oh Boy! Larry: She ' ll slap my face. Mary: My dear! Elinor: ' ' Wait a minute! Alfred: No telling ' ! Senior Music Rack Alfred: ' ' You ' ve Gotta See Mama Oh for a girl with: — English: Innocent Eyes Benny ' s hair Holy: Linger Awhile Mary ' s complenion Lou: Lou ' ville Lou Marcie ' s eyes Marce: The Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me Elly ' s nose Benny: That Sweet Somebody of Mine Issy ' s figure Larry: ' ' Steppin ' Out And a boy with: — Percy: The Sheik Holy s hair Elly: That Old Gang of Mine Percy ' s brains Mary: Remembering Alfred ' s eyes Issy: Back in Hackinsack, New Jersey ' English ' s stature Elinor: Drifting Back to Dreamland Larry ' s sense of humor
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Page 17 text:
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THE MIRROR 13 Who ' s Who in New York Ladies and gentlemen! In my recent trip to New York I was much interested, amused, and instructed by those eminent personages who came to my attention. Need I say that they were my revered companions, ot the 1924 Class at N. S. C. D. S. ? How long ago it seems, looking back there from this good old year of 1940! But enough of the sentimental. Let me tell you of the eminent personages of whom I have just been speaking. On arriving in New York, I was escorted direct to the City Hall, where with great pomp and ceremony I was presented with a large key to the city by Mayor Walling. Need I say that the volubility of this illustrious person was all sufficient to the occasion, and that golden words tripped lightly from his tongue. The for- malities over with, we retired from the gaze of the admiring thousands gathered to watch the ceremony, and Mayor Walling graciously indulged with me in a little chat on old times. I found the great man essentially the same as in bygone days, and was touched to think that he remembered me. As it grew towards evening, I retired to my hotel and listened a bit on the radio. After tuning awhile, I came across a horrible screeching, a sort of bellowing noise. Here is what greeted my ears: This is Station WEAF. This is Alf Childs announcing — Need I say that I am the world ' s greatest announcer? I just received a telegram asking me to sing. I shall now com- ply with that inspiring little number entitled, ' The Rose Buds Fill Me Through and Through. ' A thought came to me. I acted on it. I went to the Follies. On looking at the program the following item met my eye: Miss M. Ott, successor to Gilda Grey in popular dances. How divinely she danced! What doesn ' t one see at New York: After the performance, I determined to go to a cabaret. I was seated at a table. The band began to play. At first I thought it was for me, but no. I looked towards the door. There was entering an opulent personage with a red nose, a diamond stick-pin, and a large stogie. The Proprietor, whispered someone. Imagine my delight on recognizing our old friend, Holden Anderson, or Swede for short! He surveyed the scene with a majestic air, motioned to the band to stop playing, saw me, and proceeded towards me. It was a dramatic moment. Then this august character actually unbent, and we talked familiarly for a few minutes, while the gaping public looked on. I returned to my hotel feeling well satisfied with the day. The following morning, I awoke to find the sun shining brightly through my window. I made a voyage to a New York bank to transact a little business. Whilst there, who should breeze in but the president of the bank! The good man shook me by the hand, then a slow smile overspread his face. He cried, Old fellow, can it be you? I looked hard at him, a little corpulent to be sure, but still Percy B. Davis, Jr. As we talked a prosperous looking gentleman entered and saluted the President. The President whispered to me to be respectful, for he was another J. P. Morgan in the form of a stock broker. He wore glasses, he rattled off his words a mile a minute. You are right, it was our old friend, Larry Burr! Weighty engagements now engrossed my friends. I went to the circus. Here I was particularly amused by a young lady doing difficult trapeze stunts with great facility. At last she finished, came down from the heights and bowed condescendingly to the audience. It was Marcell Vennema! My goodness! Circus over, I strolled toward the renowned Greenwich Village. On the way I was confronted by a placard on a store, setting forth in brazen letters the words, I. Fry. Heavens, cried I, someone is frying! and I rushed in to save the poor unfortunate, only to be confronted by the smiling face of Miss Isabel. What do
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