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Page 32 text:
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30 THE PEABODY TO THE ORIOLE Little laddie in the tree-top, Black and white and red and gold, Master singer of the morning, Faithful daddie, brave and bold: VVas the sunset ever redder Than the flame upon your breast? VVas a costume ever gayer Than your glossy coat and vest? Did the maples ever rustle Sweeter whispers than your note? Did the pine trees ever murmur Stronger warnings than your throat VVas a maiden ever dearer Than your bride on yonder tree? Was a cradle ever sweeter Than the one that swings so free? Still survive the groan of battle. Brighten still these sacred hillsg Blend your whistle with the breezes Till the hand-of-silence stills. Paul VVakefield, 12-A-1. lil El El FRIDAY SKETCH CLASS
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Page 31 text:
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THE PEABODY 29 love? He didn't know what she meant when she talked affinity and such bunk. Dorothy never talked such rot-a fellow could talk sense to Dorothy! It was between dances, now that the music had stopped, one had to talk. One's jaws began to ache from that infernal grin that etiquette de- manded one should paste on one's face. Suddenly the worthless chatter stopped dead. An electric thrill seemed to pass through the room-all eyes turned as though by common consent to the big portiered doorway. Was that vision-Dorothy? Lithe and tall she stood beside her khakied escort. Dorothy's eyes were the blue of crushed violets, and shone like fallen starsg her shoulders were alabaster, rising from churned sea-foam, her hair, a queen- ly Coronet, her dainty head rested like a living cameo against the rich red velvet. One by one, as though drawn by a magnet, the male contingent sought her side. They waxed merry as the ladies waxed glum. Dorothy's laughter pealed out with refreshing spontaneity. Dorothy danced like a fairy, looked like an angel, coquetted like a vixen, and oftenest he saw her gliding on that khaki arm. How he hated that khaki figure! And Florence Reid's dulcet tone poured into his ears-ah, some other partner had claimed Dorothy-that khaki fellow was standing alone-now was his chance. And I think every girl should wait for her ideal, melted Florence. Excuse me, he said curtly. I'll-I'll-get you an ice. A whispered word-a nod from the uniformed man, and the two melted from the hall. They sought the fiickering lighted garage. Back to their primeval fathers they went, stripped to the waist, and fought and gashed and punched in contest for lady-fair. It was very short. Soon Bill was solicitously offering a soppy sponge to the fallen khalai-clad. They surveyed each other in the flickering light. Bill was quite presentable-the fallen one could not appear again that night for reasons more obvious than beautiful. Well, good-night, old man. Sorry to have mussed you up. Don't mention it. Goodnight. Bill sought the hall again, and found Dorothy. A look here, a word there, and the coterie gradually vanished, and he was left alone with her. . Say Dot, he said, looking straight into the honest eyes-blue eyes, true blue, they were. Say Dot, your soldier-friend was called away. Want to go home with me? She sought his eyes, and watched the bronze flush creep up over his neck and face. Why thank you, Bill. I'd love to, she said. They walked home together through the moon light. Wide and free they walked, yet he felt her nearer than ever before. But because boyhood reserve is very queer, and will not let the lips utter what the heart fee-ls, all he said was, Say Dot, where'd you siwpe the dress? Say, it's fierce!
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Page 33 text:
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THE PEABODY 31 BIG LEAGUE EXPERIENCE Clyde Nicholson Busher Benny was dead in love-with himself. Nobody on this ter- restrial sphere amounted to a Picayune except Benjamin J. Oliver. But he was the only one who liked him, the rest of the club all remembered letters they had to write when Benny came near. This is how it started: Benny hit .300 and covered his territory pretty well in the Three Eye League the year before, and our scout, Sam Eicher, thought he was pretty good. Benny agreed wfith him. So he was signed up and went with us on this year's train- ing trip. But the poor fish must have thought that the Three Eye was the fastest in the country. He came to us with his tongue loose, and from the way he talked Tris Speaker is a hoe-wielder, and George Sisler is only used to fill up space. It took but a short time for him to spread his ideas, and still shorter for us to put him down for what I'm not allowed to write. Be- lieve me, with our gang he was like an unsuccessful vaccination, he didn't take worth a cent. Well, when a guy is unpopular with his team-mates he's not scheduled for a season in Paradise, and take it from me, we were not slow in letting him know it. In the hotel nobody ever asked him to sit in a game, and the Kelly pool games were always filled up when he came around. Some of the soft hearted fellows said it was hard on Benny, but the blamed simp brought it on himself. I' said he loved nobody but himself, but I was wrong. He was clean gone on a lovely queen, and they were scheduled to play with Dan Cupid's team at Matrimony when we started North. This gave Alex Hodge an idea. Say, maybe it wasn't some go. Alex arranged with a friend to get his house for an afternoon, and we did the rest. Pretty Elman, our shortstop, dressed up like a girl, and, believe me, he'd have passed for a Broadway star. We fixed a camera in the parlor be- hind a screen and then sent the Busher a lovely note requesting him to come to the house. When he came, the maid, who'd been tipped off, ushered him inilo the parlor, and then beat it. Then came the climax. With Benny standing in the middle of the room Pretty goes up to him quick and does a faint right in his arms before he has a chance to speak. Poof, goes the camera, and Benny's caught with the heroine in his arms. That sort of settled that bird for good. An explanatory delegation made it clear to Benny that if he was ever again caught telling how good he was, that picture would be shown to his girl, and his goose would be cooked. Every man on the team was given a copy of the picture, and when Benny forgot and started to spout, someone would draw it on him. Well, do you know that guy sort of got the shut-up habit, and before we broke training he got almost human. The bunch didn't hold malice, so when Benny and his queen went thru' the big event, we had a regular time. But, believe me, Benny's lesson could be used for a lot of the bushers who try to run the league.
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