Park High School - Arrow Yearbook (Livingston, MT)

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THIRD PRIZE STOITY' ., . .J I - l ff !- 5.. .. ' V ' s ' ,.. , .'.-H' ' o' AS SEEN BY THE CLOCK ON THE WALL I am only the clock on the wall of the assembly, but such tales I could tell, were I given the chance to speak. I am usually awakened about 8:30 a. m. by a noise that sounds like a cavalry charge going full gallop over a wooden bridge. It comes from these creatures dropping into certain resting places. On a perch higher than the floor, is often seen sitting, a creature. I can not tell whether of the same kingdom as these on the floor, for there is no distinguishing mark. The length of the garment, the style of hair, and the youthfulness of appearance are all the same. The creature on the perch often seems restless. he will glance up and look unhappily down at the others. At times she will even leave her perch and approach one of these beings who are resting lower down. It seems to give her some relief, for she does not look quite so unhappy as she mounts her perch again. The one to whom she communicates does not reflect the same peace. Sometimes I see insects floating about in the air. They may be birds, but, While they sometimes fly, more often they are passed from one to another. Finally they seem to be examined closely and even torn apart. About once a week all the creatures watch the front of the enclosure where one, two, or more, of their number seem to attract attention by strange movements, often screaming as though in agony. The group below clap their hands, whether in the hope of driving them off, or because they enjoy watching the unusual antics, I cannot tell. There are times when some of the creatures seem interested in what they hold in their hands. They examine them curiously, even opening them. These creatures seem in constant fear of being attacked, for if any- thing enters they watch it constantly until it drops to rest or leaves the room. Twice a day all these creatures leave to sleep or eat, though I have seen them do both from my place on the wall. I should love to place my hands over my face and sleep, too, but alas, I have D0 hands. -Florence Lauson Page Forty Eight

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' 1 r 4 , st. .4 V , SECGNII 'PIQIZE S'1'ORX' THE OLD COATERS New coats, like measles and mumps, usually come in waves in a community. Like the diseases, they sometimes leave a bad effect-it remains to be worn again the following year. Great is one's embarrassment if she purchased her new coat in the off-season, for no matter how much pleasure she may have received from it that year, she will experience much the same feeling as did the Ugly Duckling the next season. There can be no organized fellowship, no society for Old Coaters among those who are passing through this low social status, for the law of be- havior in these off-seasons in one's wardrobe is to take no notice of the situation, except in the vicinity of one's family. In this circle one is allowed to give vent in whatever manner as seems best to help the situa- tion. However, when one steps over the family threshhold, she must put on a bold face and the old coat, and meet the world with a manner of total indifference as to the mere consequence of a winter wrap. Another point in the ritual for this season is to put off the recognizing the approach of winter as long as possible. Hadnlt you better put on your warmer coat, dear? Mother inquires with concern. Oh, no, Mother. I'm not a bit cold. It's nice out, yet. When you can no longer shun the coat, you put it on but immediately take it off when arriving anywhere, because I'm so hot. Why DO they heat this room so? I should think you'd be roasting in those coats. But they are not roasting, for they have new coats. This is the season when one cannot afford to be cold, nor can the new coaters afford to be hot. This is not a lazy winter. Next winter you can rely upon your clothes for distinction, but this year you must exert yourself and distinguish your- self in other Ways. One must combine a rapid, brilliant conversation and charming manners to keep people from noticing the deficiencies in one's apparel. As a rule it works, though there are some people who can make a careful inventory of your entire wardrobe before they look you in the eyes. They look at YOU as a sort of after-thought. When one meets such people, she tries to console herself by saying, I don't care what she thinks of my clothes. She never notices whether I'm in them or not, But she does care . . . That's the type of person who makes one care. As the winter advances, and coats get rained, snowed and sat upon, the aristocracy of the new coaters dwindles. One feels less conspicuous. Really, my coat looks as well as Marian's, one comforts herself. Next winter I'll wear this to school and have a new one. Somehow one doesn't mind wearing an old coat if she knows she has a better one. This off-season is one of the casualties until one reaches that heavenly estate Where all things will be new. One will be enrolled then with the saints and it will make no difference to you that you are the only one wearing a coat with a belt. On this earth, however, the occasion of having to wear one's last year's coat is an experience that has its calamitous aspects. -Eleanor Speaker. Page Forty-Seven

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FIRST, AND TIIEIQD PRIZE POEBIS -. 'w WT fa! 4 Qi ' A WINQER fNIG'li'Il' The snow at twilight was fallin-gi g Making a blanket of down 'I That covered the earth with its coolness And settled with darkness around. Through the dark frosty night of winter The snow sifted flake upon flake Making each grove and coolie Stand out like a frosted lake. It'broke with a sudden clearing A ', - ' f .Leaving open the clear blue sky, But then came the north wind blowing And made the white down fly. It caught at the nearest snow bank And started it a'whirl. The world was now a blizzard Instead of hills of pearl. -N. BALLAD OF FORGOTTEN LORE I think I'll write a poem Of things which heretofore You never even heard of Or thought about, what's more. A dog was after Mrs. Fox. He chased her most to school, And she turned 'round and said to him: Go home, you little fool. The doggie. though. kept following, Which made the Fox real hot. She turned again. and said to him: 'Tm sorry-I forgot. They were tearing down the balcony. To put a new one there. When Leland smashed his finger And started in to swear. He put his finger to his mouth And danced an old-time jig. I can't remember what he said. But it was more than fig, Oh, there's a teacher in this school Who teaches business stuff. He talks a lot and says a lot. But doesn't treat us rough. When first he came to Livingston. He tried to hide his name. But I found out-what is it now? Forgot it-what a shame' Now Bunny had a party. A great big one and fine. It lasted till most any hour, And started in at nine. Dick Kyser had an awful time, I mean a love affair, But there-my I'lIE1'!lO1'Y'S slipped me. Gee, it drives me to despair. Miss Johnson took part in a play, The role of So and So. The name I have forgotten. And the rest I do not know. But theres one thing she hated. What it was I plumb forgot. Now I guess you'll just agree with me. My memory isn't hot. I'm asked to please omit this verse. Omit it. if you like. It's all a joke, tho. anyway. I do not aim to strike. Two girls were riding with some boys. As girls will sometimes do. When Esther thought she'd-there it's gone. Oh, don't you wish you knew? Sixth period is most awfully dull. I hate it mont in school. Miss Lemon. she has charge of it, THATS what makes quiet rule. Well, once Miss Lemon caught, a note And this is how it read: That's funny-though I knew it. But it just new left my head. A brand new alibi struck town, I think were out of oil. Now wouldn't such a thing as that Make you curl up and boil? Now, if you'll listen carefully. I'll tell you when and how! Well, Christy-fudge-it slipped my mind- I'm sure it was a wow. T'was on a bleak December night. rMost nights in that month arem, I wish I hadn't used that word. It rhymes with naught but fait Well, on this night, two girls struck out. They thought they had a date. My memorys gone-I'm sorry, But the rest I can't relate. A doctors life's expensive, Said Speak one day in class. But Margaret up and spoke quite frank. I can't let THAT thing pass. Now, why did she thus contradict? A very simple reason- Why Rusty-darn. It's gone again! My memory plays me treason. I could go on forever. With some stories that would shock. But I somehow kind of hate to. When you my memory mock. With all that I have written. Please be considerate. pray, I-shucks. I guess I'd better quit. What WAS I going to say? -Eleanor Speaker THE TRAGIC DEATH OF MARY MELFORD BELL This is the sad epistle Of Mary Melford Bellg Of how her life was ended By falling in the well. Along walked little Mary. The well was straight ahead, She had no piemonition That she would soon be dead. 'Twas a dark and stormy night, that night A scream and then H SDIHSI1 WHS heard. when Mary was found dead, She'o fallen down the well. And all the trouble was because The pig had to be fed. Mary started out that night, Headed for the pig sty, And then she lost her way because No moon was in the sky. Page Forty-Nine Thus came about the tragic death Of Mary Melford Bell. -Robert Conlin Young.