Ohio Mechanics Institute - OMIA Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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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

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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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criticism on the instructors and the poor manner in which the school is being conducted. Upon entering the dining room one never fails to observe a young couple, who, all by themselves, occupy a large table near the center door. I wouldn't mention any names, not for the world, but -about 12:54V2 the seniors combine in a home run slidee Du Brul will probably know to whom I refer. For the past few weeks, Bill Schanson, millionaire newshoy and Itbear of the Sophomore class, has been eating with us. He has changed his favorite remark of these guys make me sick to Ilthese pies make me sick. After lunch, we all go down stairs and crowd around the front entrance. We often block the front doorway, but no one seems to mind the inconvenience, especially Mr. McDiarmid tMr. Macl the Hgrand old gentleman 0f the Institutef He is always ready with his, HHow do you do, gentlemen, and his cheery smile as he passes in or out. As it was raining today, Koehler tCuteyl came down to exercise his marcel wave. He claims that he gets it from standing in the rain. No doubt he tells the truth; I am sure I wouldnlt accuse him of put- ting a curling iron on his hair. Oh, 110! When Mr. Richard tSir Dickyl came back from lunch-he doesn : eat at the school; he has Itlunchh at liThe VVheellteseveral of the Sen- iors, Who were standing in the entrance, accused him of doping the candy that he had left in his desk that morning. I knew that Mr. Richard had a sweet tooth and ate candy all day, but I never would have thought him guilty of such a mean trick. Illl bet the Seniors will buy their own candy in the future. Just before the bell rang, Mr. Johnston tRedl and Mr. Tatum UVIike Angelol came strolling out 'Walnut Street. By the way, the boys would like to know where Mr. Johnston goes for his mid-morning smoke. They say he just has to have it. Mr. Tatum, as usual, was reading The Memphis Commercial Appealfl He claims it to be the largest paper ill the South. Thatls all right, HTate.u In German mon- ey a one-hundred mark note looks like a sign-board, but it doesnit mean anything. We are allowed five minutes to get to the Class room after the twelve-flfty bell rings and we take full advantage of those five min- utes. About fifty-four and a half minutes after twelve the chemistry class combines in a home-run slide from the elevator to the chemical laboratory, where Mr. Ecker gives a lecture on chemistry. We are supposed to go there to hear the lecture, but in reality we go to gaze in awe upon Mr. Ecker's old-rose-colored socks. I understand