Ohio Mechanics Institute - OMIA Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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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

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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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was flirting with him. He just stood and glared at me. Its a won- der I didntt shove the top out of that tree the way I backed up against the body of it. dThe fellows 0n the ground must have heard me talking, for one of the negroes shouted, tShake ,im out, boss, shake 'im out; don, yo all go any try to hold Iim up thar; drap ,im down heahf lTll tell the world that I wasn't trying to hold him; nothing like it. He couldn't ldrapl soon enough to please me. I tinally got tired of talking to the old boy and took a kick at him. He made a swipe at my foot with his claWS and lost his hold on the limb. itWell, he hit the ground right in the middle of the crowd, and before I could move, four negroes passed me, going; towards the top of the tree. That was some commotion. I started down the tree and- B-r-r-r-n-g, went the bell that ended the period, also the story. Mr. Russ was so excited that he forgot to give out any night work. We gave Townsley a standing vote of thanks when We got out in the ball; then went into Mr. Roberts room for electricity. Mr. Roberts was giving a lecture on the peculiarity of a shunt- wound motor; so, not being interested, I slipped out and went into the tin shop. Mr. Alford is the nabob in that room. He is a collector and critic of Egyptian Curios and an authority on the history of ancient Egypt. I often drop in to examine his pictures of Egypt--most of them are cut out of the Sunday supplementseand hear him tell about the Life of King Tutti. I notice this morning that he was wearing another new cap. I wonder where he gets them. One of the boys was mean enough to suggest that Mr. Alford was wearing the cap to advertise a Fifth Street hat store. Finally, getting tired of history, I went back into Mr. Roberts, room, and, as he was still winding the motor, I fell asleep and was blissfully unconcious until the period ended. The next hour I devoted to art. At least I spent that period in the art class. I am not really studying art at all; the truth of the matter is that I am trying to solve the mystery that surrounds a pair of glasses. You see, the art instructor, Mr. Boebinger, always has a pair of glasses parked on top of his head. For just what purpose he carries them, no one has so far been able to decide, but I have picked up a good clue. Yesterday, during the period, he took me out in the hall to explain the meaning of perspective. He held his hand up in front of him, pulled the glasses down on his nose, and measured off the of a dooreat the other end of the hall-on his thumb-nail. Then he put his glasses back in their accustomed parking place and explained in detail how many times his thumb-nail would go into a door nearer at hand. I tried to work the problem out later by algebra, but as I could not find any formula in which a door could be divided up into thumb-nails, I naturally came to the conclusion that the glasses had something to do with perspective. About eleven-thirty, Driskell, our noted cartoonist, asked what time it was. This happened so near the same time every day that I always tell him without looking. Then the exodus began. Miss Rubin led the parade; shortly afterward Miss Williams began to realize that even an art student must eat. The others dropped out one by one until, by the time the eleven-fifty bell rang, the studio was as empty as Smittyls cranium. I always love to hear that bell. It is followed by a rush for the dining room. I donlt know -xx why the students rush through the hall in such an undignified iIl-Ie explained how many times his manneriit doesnit mean anything; thumb-nail would go into the door . for we have to stand in line for at least thirty minutes before getting; served. The wait has its advan- tages, however, as we always hear the topics of the day cussed and discussedeusually by Earl Snow. There is also plenty of free