Ohio Mechanics Institute - OMIA Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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One of the CFuJo Hundred A phenomenon occurred this morning, April 23, 1923, that will probably cause this date to go down in the history of the Ohio Mech- anic,s Institute as one of extraordinary importance. In fact, the stu- dents have asked President Faig to declare April 23 a school holiday in the future. He has given them no definite answer as yet, but I understand that he has ordered a large box of blue chalk, and no doubt the walls of the Institute will be decorated for some time to come with this color. The phenomenon was, that after two years' attendance I finally arrived at school in time to hear the b-r-r-r-n-g of the eight-thirty bell. The only explanation of my mistake that I can give is that pos- sibly my watch was fast, or that the school clock had overslept. The latter rea- son is probably the correct one, for I have noticed in my two years at this school that l a their infernal clock always loses about Vt: i , , , E thirty minutes in the morning and gains 1t t1 during the dinner hour. However, the fact I slipped stealthily up remains that when I entered the hall this the smrSI-m morning and glanced at the clock, I saw, to my horror, that it was only twenty minutes past eight. I slipped stealthily up the stairs, instead of using the elevator, for I knew that Bill, the elevator man, would notice my mistake at once. Having reached the third floor without being recognized, I be- gan to hope that I could get into the class room unnoticed. But I was mistaken. Absolutely nothing else but. I still think I could have got by with it had it not been for Emil Schmitt. If Schmitt knew more about algebra and trig, and less about the habits of the other students, I am sure he would get along better. Smitty saw me as I sneaked through the doorway, and he let out a yell of surprise. Luckily, before Mr. Felton, our algebra instructor, came in, we were able to revive Royce and Monte by carrying them to the Window, opening it, and letting the fresh ten-above-zero breeze blow gently across their horrified countenances. By the way, one cold morning in December, through some mis- understanding on the part of the janitor, the heat had been turned off in our class room, and Mr. Felton dismissed the class on account of the extreme cold. When he came in this morning and saw the win- dows open, he jumped straight up in the air and howled, What do you fellows do; come around here at six delock and open all the win- dows expecting me to dismiss the class on account of the roomts being cold? Nothing doing; youlll stay in here now if you freeze. All of you close your books; we will have a test. I tried to explain the situation to him, but he insisted that we had opened the windows just in order to get out of a period of class work. Now wouldntt that get your goat? But that is the way with these instructors. Whenever they get sore at the fellows, they stick the class with an exam and two or three extra hours of night work. Mr. Felton then proceeded to write a quiz on the blackboard; after which he left the room. I suppose he went down to the library where there is always warmtheand a pretty librarian. About the time we were half finished with the exam, the bell rang, and we all trooped into the Room 2R for trigonometry. If I had lived in ancient times when trig was invented, I probably would have been convicted of murder and would have been guillotined. I frequently have a desire to choke Mr. Russ, our trig instructor. He has one redeeming trait, however; he is a great hunter, and often when he speaks of having a test, we can miss it by getting him to tell about some of his hunting trips. When he starts talking about

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$ Paul-Anytime Familiarities Pop Freya1:01 P. M. Doc.- During a quiz. W xxx

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hunting Goons or foxes, he is good for the period. When we entered the room, things looked as though we were in for it. Mr. Russ was busily engaged in cleaning off the blackboard, and we knew what to expect. OIConner found an opening and said, uSay, Mr. Russ, can a circle be square, and if so, how much 1w Mr. Russ turned around slowly and gazed pitingly at OIConner, ttHow can you ask such a question as that?u he answered. Well, O,C0nner came back, If a circle has ten square feet in it, why canuc it be squareTI After fifteen minutes of heated argument, OtConner reluctantly ads mitted that a circle could be absolutely nothing else but round. That left us thirty minutes, and Mr. Russ started writing the first question on the black- board. nMr. Russ, did you ever go fishing in the winter, when you had to cut a hole in the ice and let the line sink down through it? asked Taney. IINo, I never did? Mr. Russ an- swered. HAnd, furthermore, we are going to have a test; so you fellows can just imagine that there is a hole in your head through which these questions can sink; then you can fish for the answer!' And he went on writing. Things looked gloomy. I had given up and started to work the first problem, when Townsley came to the rescue and asked, HMr. Russ, wili a good coon dog track any animal other than a coon? Mr. Russ turned quickly away from the blackboard, put the piece of chalk he had been using behind his ear, and said, iINo, sir! At least I would venture to say that a good coon dog wouldntt. HI diant know, Townsley answered, gbut one time when I was I tried to explain to the old fellow-I' down in the Kentucky Mountains, I went out on a coon hunt with some friends. We hired six negroes who owned some good coon dogseat least they said the dogs were good ones. The moon came up about ten oIclock, and we started out shortly afterwards? Mr. Russ, who had been standing with an expectant look on his face, sank slowly down into his chair, put his feet up on his desk and similed contentedly. HWe left the house and started up a ravine, Townsley continued, and in a short time one of the dogs struck a trail. In a few seconds the entire pack was running with him and howling at every jump. They were headed up the mountain side and going strong. After an hour's climb we caught up with the dogs and found them congregated about a large tree with their noses pointed Skyward and singing a regular concert. ItWe tried to locate the coon from the ground, but he was too well hidden. The crowd stood around for awhile waiting for him to expose him- self, but I guess he must have been comfortable, for he never moved. Finally, getting tired of waiting, I set my gun down and taking a small ax from one of the negroes, I started climbing the tree. ttThe limbs were some distance apart, and this made climbing dimcult. I had worked my way up to a big limb about fifty feet from the ground and was reaching for another limb above my head when I heard a rustling in the branches behind me. I turn- ed, and there was Mr. Coon, at least I thought so at first, but upon closer examination I found that it wasnIt a coon at all. No, indeed! It was as pretty a wild cat as I have ever had occasion to deal with, and I will add that he seemed to grow larger the longer I gazed at him. I tried to explain the mistake to the old fellow, but he diant seem to catch the exact meaning; of my explanation; rather, he seemed to think I