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Page 22 text:
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At first he studied with all his vim, But soon other thyngs attracted him. Then caren he not for hys studies at alle, Of stature he weren stout, but not talle. He weren business manager of the Junyer’s Booke, A ride on horse-back every dey he tooke. Ther weren also another fellow, Of whom I am now about to tell you. He weren just like any commun one, Could fish and skate and shoot a gun, He got on very well at scoole. This fellow would ride een on a mule, When he went about upon an errand. With another ladde my ta e I’ll end. He weren a ladde of husky form, Tho not very long of limb or arme. He weren very merry and jovial with alle; And weren a very fine player at basketbal. But ere he completed his pilgrimage, He heeded not the good old adage, Which saith, “Try, try again, if you fail.” And quit, just like I drop my tale.
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Page 21 text:
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He ween large in soul, in body small. Ther weren also a meyden faire, Who hadden locks of golden haire, She weren very jolly too, And all the learning that she knew, Woulde fill a library of bookes, She weren faire and gud of lookes. Ther weren eek a tiny lasse. Who weren a pilgrim with the classe, Full of life and fire she weren, She hadden mischief too, to burn. Ther weren eek a solemn girl, And thru her lessons she coulde whirl, Bright she weren and gud of speech, Right able weren she to teach. She weren small of frame and quick of weys, She’ll leave her name in coming days. Among the authors of the world. Ther weren also another girl, In form she weren plump and fat. When she wore a dress or hat, It weren in the latest style, On her looks I’ll pause awhile. Dark weren her eye, which like a star did flashe, From underneath a dark eyelashe, Faire weren her face, but for one respect, It were with freckles well bedecked. She could play the piano some, And eek could pl y well on a drum. Ther weren eek a brilliant lasse, Who could never to you, answer yes, But Ja and that so slow: That she weren Dutch one well myght know, She weren bright and diligent, And of the German Club weren president. Another girl ther also weren, Who weren of her manner stern. She lived down by the rail-road track; Her haire it weren a glossy black. Her dark eyes gleamed like balls of fire. When she was filled with wrath or ire; A richer girl was never known, For a houseful of coppers, she had at home. With the reste ther weren a ladde, Who never weren seen looking sadde, But always wore a smiling face. Of candy, he alweys had galore, Which he got from his brother’s store, Also lots of chewing gum, Of all in the classe he weren a chum. Ther weren also a bright yong man, With ability to do what anyon can.
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Page 23 text:
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A STORY OF 1930 “All aboard!” I just had time to lift my heavy grips and throw myself on the steps of the moving passenger train. Panting from the race I had had to reach my destination I set my grips in the aisle and threw myself into a seat. After a few minutes I had quite regained my breath, and I picked up one of my grips to rearrange my stock of books and figure up the amount of my sales. I soon finished my task and the thought struck me that I might made a few sales in the car. Seeing a tall blonde across the aisle I hailed her and produced my copy, and undaunted by the sour smile, which is the usual greeting to book agents, I praised the book as only a drummer can. In answer to the question “What is the name of your book,” I replied, “Why it is ‘My School Days at Prairie High’, written by the well known author, Roy Schnug. “You don’t say, why I was one of his classmates.” I thereupon recognized Alma Anderson. I told her that I was one of the class too, and handed her my card. We had quite a talk together and before we got through I found out that she was a stenographer for a lawyer in a small town, and was going back to work after a few weeks vacation at home. I proceeded down the length of the car making a few sales. At the other end I was struck with the appearance of a couple of fellows, and I approached them with the usual air of a salesman. Before I had gone very far with my discussion I found that those fellows were none other than Don Keller and Roland Bieloh, who were about to start on an expedition for the discovery of the South Pole. I spent the remainder of my time in the car speaking with these young classmates. Reaching my assigned station I got off, and lugging my heavy grips, struck for the nearest hotel, which I saw a short distance up the only street of the little village. On going in I set down my grips and put my name on the register, while the landlord, a sharp-featured man, watched me and I noticed he stared at me in a queer way, as he continued to stare at me in this manner, I grew angry and asked him if he suspected me of some crime. He laughed and replied “Your looks and name correspond to those of an old classmate of mine.” I then recognized Wm. Welsh. As we were shaking hands, a jolly-faced lady stepped into the room and Mr. Welsh said; “Let me introduce you to my wife.” Immediately I recognized another classmate. It was-------Norma Froelich. I spent a delightful evening with my classmates, but in the morning my joys came to an end, when I received a letter from Mr. Schnug, giving me directions to canvass the country on foot. After four days of tugging at those heavy grips in the blistering sun, with little encouragement of sales, I came to a very large building. Painted in red letters was, “The Western Farming Syndicate.” I entered the building and recognized in the president of the syndicate my old classmate, Lawrence Swingle. Mr. Swingle introduced me to the trustee whose names were respectively, Adelbert Cherrier, George Schwei-ger, Fred Newgard and Oren Hoyle. I felt at home with all these classmates and I regretted it much when I took my departure.
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