Oran High School - Oranite Yearbook (Oran, MO)

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lIDHI!17l!.l.lI mmTlll!Mlm'lWWUmDmHlwiMLWEIWEl 1MtEgiIjl h7Ufl Oh, don't tell me that, Radimanthusf' she cried. my poor heart is breaking. Why can't you marry me? Deliberately telling a falsehood I blurted out, Miss Mann, I am a somnambulist. Miss Mann seemed puzzled. She reflected for a moment, and finally said, That's all right. If there isn't a church here of that kind we can be married by a justice of the peace. Being astounded and appalled by her display of ignorance I fled. Stayed home the rest of the after- noon. I congratulated myself for my timely escape. Having been so nearly married I could almost hear the epithalamium. I retired at eight o'clock. Dared not go to church for fear of having to escort home some woman, who was inclined toward the state of matrimony. Monday morning dawned clear and bright. I arose at my usual hour, ate breakfast and went to town. At ten o'clock I went to the postoffice and asked for my mail. To my utmost surprise a letter decorated with the calligraphy of a woman was handed to me. Carefully opened it only to find a statement demand- ing an account long past due. I lunched down town at twelve o'clock. Remained in town all afternoon. At six started home, and seeing a woman, who looked like a man hunter, coming down the street, I crossed a lawn to get out of her way. I was arrested for trespassing and fined ten dollars and the costs. I did not begrudge the money. Tuesday morning I awoke with misgivings. I went thru my usual routine of morning work mechanically. Started to town at ten o'clock. Saw a woman and a dog coming toward me, and as this time I had no avenue of escape, I was forced to meet her. I am sure she looked at me queerly, almost pleadingly. But I immediately regained my poise and ease for I reflected that a string with a dog on one end and a woman on the other should remind one that neither the dog nor the string was to blame. Nothing eventful happened that afternoon, and you can rest assured that I kept out of the way of the peculiar sex. That night I spent an hour in deep study. I con- cluded Helen owland was right when she said, Noth- ing will carry a man so far away from a woman as a new train of thot-started by the signal in another wo- man's eyes. Wednesday morning I became more hopeful, and began to realize that all the world was not queer after all. At nine o'clock I started to town. Passing a hand- some dwelling I heard someone, a woman I correctly surmised, crying. A woman's tears are the greatest waterpower known to man. Forgetting my timidity I went in. I saw a woman sobbing as if her heart was breaking. I went up to her and said consolingly, There little girl, don't cry, they have broken your heart, I know, -She cast her scintillating and corus- cating eyes up at me and replied softly and soothingly, You old reprobate, you base intruding idiot, get out of here. Can't you see I am only rehearsing. I left immediately. Spent the afternoon in I. Skinems store playing checkers. Lost every game to the poorest player in town. I have misapprehensions and I think if this continues much longer I will surely lose my wits. Thursday. I. M. Married, a good friend of mine, persuaded me to spend the day with his family. There was a surprise for me. I was introduced to Miss Rhoda Dendron. She was a beautiful, graceful, delicate, re- fined and effeminate woman, a specimen of perfect .4 al 1'WYll'llAl-lil If Tl ll ll I ll Fl Z 2 E Q I 5 i E 2 I 5 i s ll mmmmummumm mmEnnmmELSmFumrmMmmlMul:uu Y T Rmi...rulIn1Q3,5NmiiM5f -- ' F' -.ini'E?.uuu1n1.ummiumuuim.u.-1uumulmlm'mmuuiuLm1u1u.:ulilulmumlmn1nnrnzuriiu it-5

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uw . ...J . 1'ri.mfn'invvl1m1.lmuinl. . n l . -v ' ' V FW U llllJ'l'JIlYll'lL'l..'EF:i:'llllli'l 'El U :mn I vi imunnmii--vnvnmini ui irmiifminmunnimirxunrmnummnnnunriumiiii'iE1i4mTmimnnuunniiTuiuiinnTniiiiHriiiriiimmmimiiniinrninuiiinr In - -- -W -- --H -YYV --------.f --.W NA- -.,,,.....,-., A ,, 1 Ujhe QDL-irq of E. .Served I Perchance some reader will discover these few, paltry words of mine, which constitute the diary of a reserved and unostentatious man. Foreseeing this, I most humbly beg the pardon of any casual reader for being trite, but the old adage, an honest confession is good for the soul can be legitimately and correctly in- serted before I begin my memoranda. I know these few lines which follow are incoherent, unmusical, and insufficient, but I sincerely, most sincerely I assure you, hope that these gentle words will give the chance read- er a conception of the trials a modest, demure, and un- obtrusive bachelor must suffer and undergo during leap year. Perhaps it is best that I should tell the casual read- er something about myself, and if I may be permitted, I will insert a brief description herein. I have never been addicted to the vile and profane habit of boasting, but if I do say it myself, I cannot do myself justice in this short paragraph. I have been handicapped since birth. You see my surname being Served, and at birth I was christened Radimaanthus Ellingsworth by my fond parents, and a name like that would handicap any'- one. During my boyhood days the fellows called me Rady, which hurt me to the quick, and on several oc- casions I was on the verge of committing homicide, but thru my strong will I calmed myself. I am a mari of slight build. I have black hair, black eyes, and my com- plexion is fair. As I have related to you I do not often boast, however I say it modestly, I am not an unhand- some man, and, worse, I seem to attract and to fasci- nate the weaker sex. My nature is gentle and refined. I am a very sileit man, and like Dr. Frank Crane, I believe that silence is the most eloquent, beautiful and perfect thing in the world. The very top of passion is speechless. When a skilled actor wishes to portray emotions that transcend the ordinary, he is still, motionless, expressionlessf' Before I begin, and having debated it in my mind carefully and thoroughly, I have come to the conclu- sion that it would be best to state the rudiments of my recital first. In short, it is a chronology of the happen- ings and events, which point toward the eventual, am- aranthine, perpetual, and, at times, not responsible, dilemma of matrimony, which constantly and incess- antly persecutes, torments, and annoys an unoffending bachelor during leap year. It is as follows: Sunday. I arose at half past eight, I ate breakfast and prepared to go to church. At eleven o'clock went to church. After the services started home. It was a beautiful day, like the day in June that Lowell had in mind. Not being in a hurry I sauntered along in an easy, tranquil and unrestrained manner. But unbe- knowst to me a storm, nay a cyclone, was approaching. Miss Iwanta Mann, a very garrulous, loquacious, and vcluble young lady, approximately forty years of age, overtook me, and I was forced to walk home with her. When we reached her home she asked me to come in, and in a moment of mental aberration I went in. After dinner I became suspicious. About two o'clock she moved her chair close to mine and said, Mr, Serv- ed, Radimanthus, I have something on my mind. You are aware of the fact that it is not good for woman to be alone. 1 love you. Will you marry me? Q-it my dear Miss Mann, I replied, I canon: marry you. 1 ll' L Leimnnr immmzinfiiiiiiiinmi1.xm.uiiiIQii'uuEiBMiExuiiiirhi iimmnnnTm.ni1..El:54 QM.KiiuiufiHumuiiuiu-,uniiiinicimuuii1.iiiiiuuiuiu:riim.nmE-Eim'Liii'uiiuiuiHiiE.EilQ.Mi9Juiiiluiaiiiu.iiiiiuii1iiiii.iTgiiuiniipii.. 1ininluiliuuiiiiui-.iuuiiuuiunuuuuiii fi J

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UHYH vmvll'nlul1mlm'n.mrnimuumrm.mmHl unnll . - ,A . W- f g f if mwwggin W 542, 25 Y in' W I' ' TW' ' ' W igi1i'vim1lu lurnmn in rrmmm ummmunulmmri1:rvu1nmmLnnmnirn'mvuinnnmnmliimn1rnnvmm:v1 unii'-IQ? jixnalwniiimxmixinnnm:mrn1'uimminimmuinihrimni.uimml.uu1iIrhrnuili1mmh!m1inmuim m!Wimumilmmnmmmmlmlulld I ,. womanhood, far above the average of womankind. She was of the type, if any, which appealed to me. I am compelled to confess it, but strangely and mysteriously my views toward the queer sex were changed notice- ably. She was her own, natural self and acted as if I were not present. At last I had found a woman who was not inclined toward matrimony. I stayed all after- noon. Left at five o'clock. At half past seven happened to remember that I had left my gloves at Married's and I called to get them. Remained until ten o'clock. Friday passed uneventufully and quickly. Every time I went to town I was forced to pass Married's house. I strained my eyes looking for Miss Dendron. At half past seven I called on Married. Saturday. Passed the morning doing my usual routine of work. Felt carefree and happy. Passed the school house as I went to town, and hearing someone reading I stopped. In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thots of love came floating out of the window. I hurried away. The day passed uneventful. At eight o'clock I called on Miss Dendron. It was a night like the night Leander swam the Hellespont. I stayed till midnight. Now, casual reader, begging your pardon a thou- sand times if these few, simple lines have bored you, I will close my diary for this week. But I almost forgot to mention that tomorrow Miss Rhoda Dendron will be- come Mrs. Radimanthus Ellingsworth Served. -E. E. C., '20. F 9 -1 1innmiiE mTwMHini M:immmmmi4n115s'Ef ' 1mmm1uummummunziunium-.nmuim:.innuunniniuu1mmnnn.mnim..uair.mum'ilnui munmum :imnmiiJmiimnamimmnnuum:qnqn1ni1-7g1iiqgillngiml.mumwmnmnummm .-- We-Y -- -- --- - - ----- -- ---' 7 - - -Y -4.f----- --- -- Y - ---- - -'-iff f A'A -'