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Page 30 text:
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P. H. S. ENTERPRISE ' 1 i Brunson: Yes, but look at Brown and Mills, they are gaining. Look! Look! They are up with them. There, there’s stia a chance for us to make a few points anyway. Ray: You bet there is, it’s up to Brown and Mills to bring home the bacon. (Runners cross the stage.) Brunson: Gee, that was a pretty spurt. Ray: Yes, but they are all in. That spurt killed them off. Adams: There, that’s our last chance gone. Ray: Yes; our chances are about pickled and put on ice. Brunson: Oh what a surprise this meet has turned out to be. Ray: Yes, but instead of us doing the surprising it’s that despised Lowell bunch. (Runners cross stage.) Weston: Yes, it looks almost as if they were the ones who had Speedo-Ray- maker instead of us. Ray: That Speedo-Raymaker certainly hasn’t been working much tonight. Be¬ fore, when I used it my legs fairly ran away with me, but tonight it didn’t help at all. Brunson: Say, fellows, it seems to me that Speedo didn’t smell the same as usu¬ al tonight. I wo n d e r—(walks to suit case, takes out bottle, sniffs it and holds it up. Yells.) Hey, come here, you fellows. See, here’s what’s the matter. Lowell has been using our Speedo and we have been using Cul¬ pepper’s Chicken Condiment! Weston: O, piffle! Ray: O, for the love of Mike! Brunson: Now wouldn’t that get your angora! Adams: O, gee! you fellows went and used up all my chicken medicine. I wanted that for— Weston: Shut up! We’ll fix you after the meet. It’s all your fault. You brought this stuff in here. Adams: But the fellow said— Weston: I don’t care what he said. You shut up! Ray: He must have seen you coming. Fresh! Brunson: Here come the fellows. MilJs and Brunson are about a mile be¬ hind. Starter: Here hold the end of this string, one of you fellows. (Runners finish, Mills and Brown last.) Ray: Say, fellows, everything has turned out rotten. We haven’t made a single point, but let’s not cry over spilt milk; we’re going to have a high old time before we go home. Brunson: Sure, cheer up, fellows, let ' s show them that we know how to lose as well as win. Let’s give them whiskity. Ray: Aw, let’s sing Boo a Boola. Adams: Sure that’s the dope. Weston: You bet. Ray: Come on, starter, come on you Lowell fellows and join us in our little song. All right, now, all together. (First verse of Boola Song. Curtain. «=§ = =§ =► =§ = 28
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Page 29 text:
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P. H. S. ENTERPRISE ! U (They proceed to hide things while Adams protests. They put Speedo and cnicken medicine in the same suit case.) Enter Street, Potter and Young of Lowell. (General business of handshak¬ ing.) Potter: Well, Mills, what do you fel¬ lows expect to do tonight? Mills: Just wait awhile and see. W-at are your chances of making a good show¬ ing? Potter: Rum. Young here, is our best sprinter and he has been making poor time. The other men haven’t been com¬ ing up to Young. Brown: Have you boys had mucii training? Potter: Some of us trained for a whole week an- we had one tryout but most of tnem only trained two evenings. Brown: That ' s w r orse than we’ve done. What is the cause of all this? Potter: The fellows thought they did¬ n ' t have any show to get out a good track team so they put in their time on foot¬ ball. Brown: Makes it nice for the track captain, doesn’t it? Potter: The captain can’t crab when he has been playing football himself in¬ stead of training. Mills: Then you don’t expect to win tonight? Potter: I should say not. If we don’t get last we will be lucky. (First call for Fifty yard dash.) Potter: Well, so long, Petaluma. We’ll meet you on the track. Mills and Brown: Goodbye, fellows. Mills: Come, Brown, let’s watch these fellows limber up. (Cross to track.) That Lowell man has a good stride but watch him get his from Anderson and Adams in the sprints. Brown: Sure with Speedo-Raymaker they can’t be beat. Mills: No. (Suit case moves, Young stares.) Brown: It’s the greatest invention of the age. It would make a speed marvel of the oldest inhabitant of Penngrove. Mills: Where is it. Brown: Over there in my suitcase. Young: (Aside) I see a chance for Lowell. (Takes bottle from his own suit case, pours Speedo. into bottle, and pours Cul¬ pepper’s Chicken Condiment into Speedo. bottle. Exit.) Mills: Say, won’t we spring a surprise on this bunch down here. (Last call for fifty.) Ah, there’s the last call for the fifty. The meet will soon be on. WelJ, Brown, (shakes hands with Brown) here’s where Petaluma wins a field meet. Curtain. ACT III. (Mills and Brown from Petaluma, Young and Potter of Lowell, and Lee of Mission limbering up. Rest of Petaluma team cheering on the side lines.) Starter: All out for the mile! All milers out! Here, you fellows, take your places. Young, 1, Mills, 2, Potter, 3, Lee, 4, Brown, 5. Now, remember, youse fel¬ lows, the foist guy that sneaks gets penal¬ ized five yards. Mills: You, Young, quit your crowd¬ ing. Here, starter, watch this man. Starter: Say, what’s the matter with you Lowell guys? Can’t you keep still? (Two false starts.) All: Hurrah! They’re off, etc. Adams: O, gee. Look at those Low¬ ell fellows go. Raymaker. Look at old Potter take the lead. He’s the man they said couldn’t run at all. Look at him streak it out now. Brunson: Believe me he has to. Young and Lee are right on his heels and gaining every minute. Weston: I thought the Lowell fellows said they couldn’t run. Look at Young take the turn; he’s ahead of Potter now. 27
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Page 31 text:
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P. H. o. ENTERPRISE ' ll A CHARACTER SKETCH ACK came to visit us, to to oui dismay. He was about eight years old, was red headed and very lively. He came in just as we were sitting down to lunch, having walked up from his aunt’s. “Hello, Grandma,” he shouted, opening the door and rushing into the dining¬ room, “I’m going to visit you for two weeks. Arn’t you glad?” His grandmother smiled back at him, and was about to reply, when— “Say, I’m hungry,” he said, eyeing the table. “Well, run and wash your face and come to lunch,” she answered, picking his hat up from the floor. Jack soon returned with the dirt smear¬ ed over his face and his hair plastered down on his forehead, but he thought he was clean so she let him sit down. He climbed into my chair, looked about the table, passed his plate and said, “I’ll take some chicken.” “Those are chops,” explained his grand¬ mother patiently, “Will you have one?” “Two of ’em”, he answered; and so it went. He would not drink milk and when he got cocoa he spilled it on the table¬ cloth and in his desert, which he straight¬ way refused to eat, but took an orange and left the table to “see the place,” as he said. A few minutes later he went dashing by the window chasing the cat and throw¬ ing stones in all directions. Grandmother called and he immediately became inter¬ ested in the flowers assuming such an an¬ gelic expression we thought he was going to be good. But no,—he quarreled with the neighbor’s children and frankly told the mother, who came to their rescue, he would “fight ’em both with one hand.” I endeavored to get him interested in some¬ thing nice and quiet and went to hunt for some chalk for the little blackboard, but hen I returned he had the cat, which had evidently been held under the faucet, and was cutting its hair. I rescued the cat, but when Jack’s grandmother saw it sun¬ ning itself shortly afterwards, the sight convinced her, then and there, that it would be impossible for Jack to stay a moment longer, so she dragged him from the strawberry patch, where he had gone, while I was being questioned as to the cat’s health, and sent him back to his Aunt’s. Lena Bower.
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