Prairie Du Chien High School - Blackhawk Yearbook (Prairie Du Chien, WI)

Page 23 text:

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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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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Another tussle with my grips, and some more hard words from vixen farm-wives, who pronounced my book a fake, and I came upon a motor car standing by the wayside. At first sight I thought it to be deserted but I soon saw two black-headed men tugging at wrenches under their balky steed. On hearing my footsteps they crawled out and I beheld the grease-stained faces ol George and Oscar Schneyer. They were trying a new car in an endurance test for the International Harvester Company. While I was talking with my schoolmates a rider on horse-back approached. He rode along side and drew rein, and there before us was Clement McCloskey. Evidently his fondness for horses had increased as he said he was riding on horse-back from his ranch in Wyoming to a horse fair that was to be given in Eastern New York, where he was intending to purchaso some fine drivers. It was now growing dusk and I pursued my journey at a rapid gait. I could see a town a short distance ahead where I could put up for the night. But before I reached it I had the misfortune of being bitten by a farmer’s dog, so on reaching the town I immediately sought the drug store to buy some peroxide. Here I found Arthur Stehr to be the druggist. I spent the night with him and in the morning again continued my journey of canvassing. Two days passed without any happenings of note. On the third day I saw a large school building on one side of the street of a country hamlet. Carved on a stone block near the top of the building was “The Farm-dale High School.” I thought I would reap a harvest here with the sale of my books, so I went in with glittering hopes. To my amazement I found that Mae Stagnan was the principal, and right funny she looked with glasses and such a stern look on her face. I was astounded when I found Mamie Graap the teacher of Mathematics, Leona Greisch the Botany teacher, Mamie Cornelius the English teacher, Blanche Collins the History teacher and Freida Boechk the Music teacher. I felt rather small amid such a crowd of learned people whom I used to know so well. I said I was amazed and astounded at seeing these teachers, but I was dazed when I was leaving the building, for then Principal Mae Stagnan introduced me to the janitor of the building who was no other than the person of Colonel Thompson. He makes a very good janitor and keeps the building in tip-top shape. On reaching the next town 1 received a letter from Mr. Schnug asking me to go to Europe to introduce his books there. I accepted the offer and in four days I was in New York. After making preparations for my trip across the ocean I went to a theatre where some lecture courses were to be given. The first number was a cartoonist who turned out to be Roy Thomas. Another a talk on woman suffrage was given by Florence Christie. I had a pleasant visit with both of them before I left the next day for Liverpool. How pretty the sea was as I walked up and down the rolling deck watching the waves. Before the day was over I renewed my acquaintances with Elmer Herold, a missionary to India, Roy Harding, who was going with an English expedition to Egypt to study the remains of the old civilization, and Audry Copper, who was heiress to many thousands and making a visit to the old world. . During the next few days we were all sea-sick, but after that we had many talks of old times at Prairie du Chien High School. I am now in France selling a French translation of Mr. Schnug’s “My School Days at Prairie High.” Mr. Schnug is a popular writer and I take much interest in selling this book, since I was once a member of his class in the person of George Jones.