Ohio Mechanics Institute - OMIA Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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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

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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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that Mr. Ecker was one time experimenting with certain chemicals, endeavoring to discover a new loud explosive. The formula he finally arrived at did not turn out to be an explosive, but it did make a good dye, old-rose in color. In a way the experiment was a huge suceess, for the color was loud enough t for anyonets taste. Mi, The lecture is usually over H il I before the period ends, and as I L ii :1 leave the room I always notice the second-year intensive men t iim crowding around the door of the physics room. Mr. Muncy, who is a fine, jolly, and very talk- ative man, is instructor in that department. He must have something interesting in that room to cause the fellows to crowd around in such a manner. The machine-design room in on the same hoor, and I go in there for the last period of the day. I enjoy watching Mr. Frey, who is the instructor in design- ing. He is full of action as Billy Sunday at a prohibition meeting. One afternoon while he was giv- ing a talk on bevel gears, I counted the times he crossed the room, and, after figuring up the distance, found that he had walked just three miles'in thirty-five minutes. Fresndeh+5 Office w 'J If I can get by President Faig with- out being caught- . Well, it will be only fifteen minutes until the last bell rings. As it has been a busy day, and'I hate to be the last one out, I think I shall leave. If I can get past the office without President Faig catching me, I shall be on my way. Gee! but this is a hard life. eW. W. Prine. HOW,S THIS ONE? One day Susan Jane Stanage driving her car looked both ways before pulling away from the curb. Three t3i traffic cops, five t5i ordinary policemen, nine GD truck drivers, thirteen UFO pedestrians, and USU men driving machines dropped dead. Mr. Ecker: Late again, Schuster. Bud: Not a word, Doc, so am 1. Cop: ttSay, whaddaya think yer doin? This is a one-way Street. Bechtel tsteering' his motor-cycle against the currenti: Well ainit I going just one way'V Mr. Thayer: What tense does this illustrate, tI have a million dollars ? Class: ttPretense! She: You make me think of Venus de Milo. He: But I have armsf She: ttReally?