Rawlins High School - Roundup Yearbook (Rawlins, WY)

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■ in. She saw the state of affairs, and, “Roscoe, why did you ever let Johnny in the glue pot,” she said; ‘‘Why, I couldn’t help it, Mae, don’t you see 1 was busy,” he answered. The picture now changed to a small country tow,n. It was a fair day and the circus tents were brilliant with flags and posters. I saw the interior of the side show tent and all the curious people in the side show. Very prominent among them I noticed the fat girl. She was most elegantly gowned in the very height of fashion. She had dark brown hair and brown eyes, she was very much like someone I knew. Then she walked across the platform. I knew that walk, but, no it couldn’t be. Then to her attendant she said, ‘‘Well, what in Sam Hill is that?” My suspicions were confirmed. It was Evelyn. Then taking the place of this fading picture I saw Mt. Hamilton and on its summit the great Lick Observatory. I saw myself going into this magnificient building, where I was met by a very enthusiasitc woman, who seemed to be one of the most important personages of this institution. She led me into the great room containing the telescope and bade me look through the 36 inch lense, asking me to see some of the wonders beyond our small sphere in the infinite vault of the heavens. I looked and saw a star which she had recently discovered. It was 4,274,-880, 221 and one-half miles from the earth, she said; also that it took four years, seven months for its light to reach us; that it was 4 hours, 20 minutes right asceniton and 4 0 degrees declination; and its orbit was eliptical and required 6,093 years to make one revolution. She also said that she had made all these calculations herself and that she thought it magnificient, wonderful, to be able to make such wonderful discoveries and calculations. The voice telling me this seemed familiar, although in the dark I could not see her face, but was greatly impressed with the power for mathematical conclusions hidden in the brain of this wonderful woman. As we were going out we came into a lighted hallway. I turned and saw her face, and lo, it was Casia Phelan. The picture vanished and in its place I saw a broad, green lawn with a tall square building standing in the center. On the lawn were many little children, mostly girls, and of all descriptions, dressed exactly alike in dark blue dresses and snowy white pinafores. It was an Orphan’s home. Then from the dcor of the house came a woman, the matron of the Orphan’s Home. She was a very sweet faced woman, dressed very plainly and her hair drawn back quite severely. She looked very serene and happy in the midst of her little charges, for Aida had not changed much. Again (the picture shifted to Rawlins, that great metropolis of the wefet. Over the city an airship was flying, returning from an extended trip to Europe. The pilot becoming careless hit the

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NE evening, for the very simple reason that I had neglected my lessons, I was told to stay after school. The afternoon was fine and I wanted to get out, but instead of getting to work so that I could do so, I sat with my books before me, daydreaming. Some little time passed when I heard what seemed to be running water in one corner of the room. 1 went over to investigate and there I saw a little pool of water with a rapid whirlpool in the center. I sat down to watch it, for it seemed that I saw pictures of things I knew rising to the suiface and then disappearing in the whirlpool. Yes, that was it, scenes of the everyday life of my schoolmates; pictures of things we had done, hist year, and this year. Now the pictures were of events just passed, of what we had done a week ago, yesterday, today. What would the next be? Would it be the future? My question was soon answered, for there in the water was the reflection of somebody I seemed to know. Somebody who had grown older by about fifteen or twenty years. A typical old maid, prim, dainty and precise, living all alone in a pretty little house in the quiet village of Richmond, Virginia. As I looked the resemblance became stronger. Surely my eyes were deceiving me, for, no, that could not be, but yes it was, Mary Mahoney, the gayest girl in school. The picture moved on, leaving Mary with her cats and her knitting. The next picture showed a large and flourishing city, which I soon recognized as Rawlins. There, in the suburbs, in a house of modest size, was a man, rather tall, with da:k hair and blue eyes, who looked as if he’d much rather coach a basket ball team than write, trying hard to get an editorial article for the next day’s edition, meanwhile seeing, or at least trying to see, that nine children of all sizes and ages did not get into mischief. Just in the midst of a most inspiring sentence somebody screeched out, “Pa, Johnny’s in the glue pot.” Distracted, Pa goes to the rescue and is just getting absorbed again when something else happens. “That’s the way it always is,” he said, thoroughly disgusted, “When your wife’s a suffragette and goes out preaching woman’s rights.” Just then the door opened and his wife came

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steeple of a great Cathedral. The machine being badly damaged fell to the ground, severely injuring a very wealthy woman, the wife of the greatest doctor In the west. The ambulance was at the spot almost before the aeroplane reached the ground. A nurse, meek in deportment and plainly dressed, for nurses cannot dress extravagantly, you know, stepped from the ambulance, and immediately recognizing the woman in the airship, went around to the rear of the car, put the receiver of the wireless telephone instrument to her ear and called for this wonderful doctor. He soon came and said to the nurse, “How is she, Myrtle?” Well, doctor, she is pretty badly hurt, but all she wants is to see you, come this way to her apartments.” The doctor went, and Nora upon seeing him, said, “O you don’t need to worry, Virgil, I’m all right.” The doctor in surprise that she could speak, dropped his case containing a bottle of liouid air which exploded. Just then I sat up, Miss Kreuger came into the room and ft',, You had better run along home now, Mary, it’s getting