Salem High School - Lyon Yearbook (Salem, IN)

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A-In W won- gl 1 he following week was the longest that certain Seniors ever lived through or at least, so they thought. That week, also brought about a great change. Phyllis and Marjorie who had always been the best of chums, were never seen together. T.hey avoided each other as much as possible at school. The teachers, who were to pick the cast, would not even drop a hint as to how things were being decided. XVhen t.l1e list of the winners was read before the school at last, sure enough the first name read was Robert Patterson. Robert's lively little sister, who was a Freshman, piped up Oh, goodie, Bob got it! and then blushed violently during the laugh that follow- ed. The next name-could it be true+ was Pauline Milburn. Pauline a rather quiet girl, seemed very ordinary, com- pared to Phyllis and Marjorie. To be sure, Phyllis and Marjorie received good parts but they had both expected the leading role. It was a great 'blow to their pride but about two months later, as the curtain went down on the last scene, they were ready to admit that Pauline was really the girl who deserved the leading part. ln fact, they were really glad that she had gotten it because as it was, they had made up and were better friendsz than ever and more, they had found an wonderful new friend in Pauline. All this they knew, could never have been if either of them had gotten the leading role. Each had been a success in her part and if either, felt the tinge of envy of Pauline's success she was a good enough loser not to show it. At the party following the play, three happier girls could not have been found' in the whole United States than Pauline, Phyllis and Marjorie. Just before leav- ing, t,he yell leader led them all in some yells. The last one they gave was certainly true, as far as the three girls were concerned, at least. It was: Anybody down hearted? No! ' Everybody happy? Yes! Mary Catharine Pitts- M. ARKA In the little town of Salem Lived a boy named M. Arka, And he went to Salem High School Tended nearly every day. Speak of flirtin', say now listen That boy surely knew his bis, For when a note whizzed past your head You knew that it was his. But one night .he asked some girlie lf he might 'see her home' And the next day, when we found There's a big' knot on his dome. He wouldn't go to school any more Said, Nothin' doin' 'tall, Till graduation took the girl VVho'd brought about his fall. He lived to learn that not all girls Succumb unto his charm, And those he'd better leave alone Lest he should come to harm. .him lPage sixty-ilvefl

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9 -4. -fi-In s- Q lu YO sl Autobiography of a Book The last rays of a winter's sun came through the windows of an eighteenth century library. They stretched across the floor and laid warm hands on many a volurie now forgotten by us. At last its cheerful rays fell upon a dusty little book in a dusty little cover. Hello there, cried the little book. Good evening, responded the sun, warmly. I don't remefnber of having scen you before. No, replied the book, you have of- tcn come near me but never quite touch- ed me. B-ack in this little corner I am often forgotten. You do, indeed, appear forgotten. Would you mind telling nie about your- self? Well, I'm not given much to talking about myself but I will tell you all I know because you seem friendly. The very first thing I remember was seeing a black girl, her name was Phil- lis Wheatley, bending over a piece of paper and as she worked, it became me. Many people used to look at me and make all kinds of exclamations as if they were surprised. After that I was taken to a printing press and when I came out I was so different. They Great was the excitement among the 'members of the Senior Class, of the Brontz Manual High School. A notice had been posted that -all who wished to have a try-out for the class play should meet in Tower Hall the following night. All day, small groups of Seniors might have been observed talking excitedly and if looking glasses could tell tales, they would probably,have told of many strange expressions being tried out be- fore them that night. brought me to this .housethen and plac- ed me on a prominent shelf. For a time everyone, almost, it seemed. came to look at and read me. Gradually more and prettier books were brought in and they kept scooting me over every time. Nobody hardly came to read me then. Not very long ago a strange man came and hunted me up. The librarian wiped the dust off my back and the man took me over by the window to read. The first poem he looked at and then he turn ed away with a frown. He turned to the one Imagination next and the frown deepened. Then he closed me with a bang and muttered something about I thought they would be about Africa but its just stuff like the rest! I didn't know what Africa and the rest meant but it made me feel like I wouldn't live long. I am just left now with a few other old books and that is all I know. 'Tm sorry, said the sun, but I must go now. I'll see you again tomorrow. Lower and lower it sank and the shad ows on the books ill the eighteenth cen- tury library became longer and longer until darkness enveloped them all. Olive Chambers Act W'ell Your Part Practically everyone thought that Robert Patterson, a boy who had recent- ly entered school there would get the leading part because he was popular, good-looking and a born mimic. Some thought that Phyllis Thornton, the class beauty, was sure to get t.he part oppo- site him, while others were equally cer- tain that Marjorie Ferris, a general favorite, would be the lucky one. After the try-out, the students still were divided in their opinion. L'Page sixty-fourfl

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-A-In iw 'WON' wi A S tygian Conversation QNight Musing s ofa Vergil Studentj Say, Charon, remarked the Confirm- ed Wanderer, What d' you know- there's a new soul coming up the road. YVonderful, said the aged boatman, who was putting a new seat in his skiff. A particularly fat millionaire-soul had broken one on the last trip. Wonder- ful! There .hasn't been a time in the last seventeen thousand, eight hundred and sixty-one years when I couldn't see a new soul coming up that road. Very novel sight. But this one's such a greenhornf' persisted the Wanderer. Keeps looking around at the rocks like he never saw any before, and'-say! if he gets that mouth any wider open he'll swallow you and your boat in one gulp! Wait till he's been dead a couple hundred years, said Charon wisely. He'll be sick of underworld scenery by then. These new birds always make me tired. Why, t.hey don't know the A. B. C's. of being dead! Always asking so 'many questions- What's the name of this river? Who's the fellow that brou.g.ht me drown, here? Where do I go next? Somebody ought to publish a guide-book zto the underworld, up there. Well, you know that guy Vergil did try to once, the Conilrmed Wanderer reminded him. That was 'way back when Cerberus was only a pup. But he didn't get everything quite straight. Yep, answered Charon. I wish somebody would write us up right. F'r instance, people wonder how we get around ln the dark. Simps! Don't they know Plubo furnishes Hash-lights? Here's Mercury, he continued as the new soul and its celestial conductor ap- proached the boat, guided by the rays of Mercury's light. Lo, Merc, the Confirmed Wanderer greeted him. How's every little thing? Punk, said the lanky youth with the winged sandals. If the boss don't quit working nie so hard, little Mer- cury's gonna. be absent next time Vulcan calls the roll. Fact is, I've had an offer --of course this is strictly contldentialf' Of course, said the Confirmed Wan- derer. -from the Western Union, and I'm thinking of accepting it. t He won't, remarked the Wander- er. He's too fonl of Jupiter's brand of nectar. b I didn't mind personally conducting dead souls to the underworld so much when there were only one or two a day. Mercury continued, but what with the speeders and moonshine and people try- ing to swim across Niagra-gosh! Well, I don't envy you your job, ad- mitted the Confirmed Wanderer. But introduce your friend to us --pointing to the newly arrived soul standing agape in the background. Pardon me, yawned Mercury. This is the soul of John J. Smith, of Salem, Indiana, U. S. A., Upper World. Mr. Smith, meet Mr. Charon, head oi' the szeamboat line on the Styx. And this gent came here so long ago that we've forgotten his name, but we call hi-m the Confirmed Wanderer. The most conflrmedest one of all, so to speak, muttered the Wanderer, who was quite chummy with the soul of Shakespeare. G-glad to meet you both, chattered the timid Mr. Smith, regaining his voice for the first time since his entrance to the lower regions. Nice day, lsn't lt? I don't know, growled Charon, who IPage sixty-six