Polytechnic High School - Polytechnic Student Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

Page 16 text:

city people. As yet, no Alice. I was about to step up to the station agent and ask the nearest and quickest way of getting to the shanty when I heard a chug! chug! outside. Stepping to the door I saw an enormous limousine slowly edging up to the platform. It was of a deep electric blue color, outlined in gold, and was driven by a colored chauffeur in blue and gold uniform. The instant the car had stopped, the man jumped from the seat and Hung the door open wide. A figure in gray broadcloth and fur and a large picture hat emerged. p Alice, I cried. My dear girl, she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me. You have come. What do you think of my new car? I had it sent up from the city last week in honor of your coming. It's magnificent, I murmured feebly, as she led me to it. In a moment we were inside, and Alice was leaning back on the gray cushions, talking in her usual rapid style. In the pauses she made Cand they were fewl I took the opportunity to glance out of the window. The macad- amized road wound, like a narrow gray ribbon, up a thickly wooded hill. Summer villas of white plaster, with gleaming red roofs shone here and there in the midst of the deep green. The air was clear and cool, for the sun had not yet fully risen above the deep woods. ' After we had ridden Cas I judgedj about a mile, the car rounded a little curve at the top of the hill, and paused before a stretch of terraced green. A house CAliee's shanty J of white plaster with a green roof, stood at the top of the little incline, and from it sloped a green lawn, laid out in regular design, with beds of Haming flowers. A cement walk led down from the ter- race to the road, and a porte cochere and driveway extended from it on the right. Up this driveway we rolledg the next moment we were walking toward the house. Alice led me up the steps to the big verandah, strewn with carpets and cushions. Magazines were temptingly displayed on cunning little tables, and a large hammock laden with pillows swung to and fro in the fresh breeze. Inside, I was struck dumb as I gazed around me. Why don't you say something? cried Alice. I know it isn't much, but still, I have tried to make it look as attractive as I could. I smiled wanly, and murmured something. I can not, for the life of me, remember what it was, but Alice seemed pleased. As she led me upstairs, I caught a glimpse of more oriental rugs, a grand piano, a huge fire-place, and deep, leather-covered chairs. There is your room, she said, opening a door at the head oi' the land- ing. Ring for Lucile if you need anything. Luncheon is served at one. She kissed me and left. After I had made sure that she was safely down- stairs, I sat down limply on the bed. So this was Alice 's shanty! I looked around the room. It was finished in green and gold, and furnished with ex- l2ll

Page 15 text:

LITERARY THE JOYS OF THE SIMPLE LIFE ' Lilian Selleck, S '14, Yes, I've taken up the simple life, Alice told me pensively, when I met her accidentally on the street. The doctor ordered a complete change. I've taken a little shanty in the Vermont woods, and I'm staying there until he says I may come back and take up my social duties again. My dear, it is simply killing me! And she shuddered. You don't know how the utter loneliness of the place gets hold of one. None of my old set--nothing to do, all day long! Oh, I'm just sick of it! And the house itself! An old tumble-down affair-I just sit and weep when I look at it! Now Alice is an old friend of mine, and, although I am not in her set as she calls it, we are still very congenial. So I said without any hesitation, Hlilll just waiting for an invitation to come up and spend a week or so with you. .I 'in utterly fagged out and long for a rest. Do invite me. lnvite you! cried Alice, embracing me hysterically. I'll give you ten thousand invitations, if youlll only come. I'd have invited you before, if I had dreamed you would accept. It's such a God-forsaken place though-I haven 't dared to ask anyone out there. Yes, I said rather wearily CAlice is a bit overpowering at timesj. I'll come. I'1n just longing for a rest. I'll expect you, then, before the week's over, she replied and, after kiss- ing me aiectionately, hurried away. As I packed my suit case, I became rather depressed at thc dearth of stylish sunnner clothes I had, but was reassured by the thought that, as there would be only Alice and I, I would not need any elaborate toilette. As the train steamed out of the Grand Central, I settled back on the cushions of the parlor car with a sigh of comfort. Thank heaven! No more bustling, crowded streets for at least a month. Perfect rest. How glorious that will be. A11d I drifted into a doze. I was awakened by the conductor, who tapped me on the shoulder, saying that Centersville was the next stop. CCentersville was the little town near Alice's shanty. j As the train stopped and I got out, I saw before me a little village- much larger than the one I had looked for. A neat little station with a red roof Haunted a large sign Centerville -and I knew I was not mistaken in my destination. A group of nattily dressed inen and women were gathered at the mail box, and by their well-bred voices 1 could see that they were izoi t

Page 17 text:

quisite simplicity. I took out my simple dresses and hung them in the ward- robe. How did I dare to don one in this place? It was several minutes before I could compose myself enough to think clearly. I decided to trust to provi- dence, and, making myself as tidy as possible, ran down the broad stairs, and out on the verandah. Thank heaven, I thought, Alice is not here. I simply must collect my thoughts before she comes. Taking up a magazine I tried to read, but in vain, my thoughts would wander. A shanty! An old, tumble-down aifair!! With great tact, Alice left me alone until luncheon, which was served by a French maid in a blue and white dining room. The meal over, we sojourned to the porch, where we were just comfort- ably seated, when the sound of an approaching motor was heard. Alice jumped up, quickly. Gracious! It's the Boxers, and they're coming here. You run up and change your things and I'll receive them. How provoking! But, Alice, I haven 't a decent thing to wear, I protested. Alice looked shocked for a moment, but soon regained her composure. Never mind, she answered, go into my room and select anything you like. But do hurry down. She ran to meet them. I darted upstairs, and at last found her room. Plunging into the ward- robe, I surveyed the clothes ranged there. A dress for every occasion, I soliloquized, and later added, out of the depths of my bitter experience, an occasion for every dress. There were dainty morning gowns, rough tweed walking suits, afternoon dresses of delicate silks and several elaborate evening gowns. Heavy jerseys and mackinaws completed the list, while the footwear fastidiously arranged on trees, extended from dainty tango slippers to Are- ties. What possible use is this elaborate wardrobe to her, when she never goes anywhere, or does anything? I questioned myself, perplexedly. The sound of voices on the porch recalled me, and I hastily pulled out a pretty little rose silk, which I soon had on. It fitted me surprisingly well, but any of Alice's shoes were out of the question, as her foot was several sizes smaller than my own. Reverting to my own wardrobe I saw that I would have to choose between the walking-boots I had on, and a pair of low tan Oxfords. I decided upon the former. As I descended the stairs in my silk dress and boots, a feeling of nervous- ness took possession of me. The feeling increased as I stepped out on to the porch and saw the Boxers all staring at me inquiringly. As Alice introduced them to me, I felt that their gaze never left me. Mr. Boxer was a portly gen- tleman of fifty or so, dressed in white flannels and a golf-cap, his Wife a supercilious lady in black satin, with a lorgnette, and the two Misses Boxer, aggressive, sportsman-like creatures of nineteen or so, in jaunty outing clothes. They sat on the railing and looked me over as though I had been some curiosity, E221