Shields High School - Patriot Yearbook (Seymour, IN)

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A noun. And so he replied to every question until he came to the word with, which he called a conjunction, because of embarrassment upon realizing his position in a strange class. ' With ' a conjunction? 0 no, an adverb. An adverb? Sit doAvn. Next. A murmur went through the class as Joe sat down. He looked about him and was met by sneers from all. A little girl bobbed up from her seat and in her squeaky voice gave the sentence correctly. Joe realized his mistake. He had kno vn the correct answer but had failed to give it and now he could only do better the next time for this time had passed. When the shadows were lengthening eastward, the rural school was dis- missed, and the children, swinging their books, tramped leisurely homeward- A group of boys crowded about Joe and tried to make things as miserable for him as they could. You can ' t tell us nothin ' said one, while another commented on his clothes and asked if they came from Paris. We ' re goin ' to have a game of baseball Saturday, announced a lad noted for his red hair and freckled face, but you won ' t get to play- Doncha wish yer was? Who ' re you to play? asked Joe. Carltown, spoke up another boy. It ' s between us and Carltown. But we can ' t let you play. The other side might git skirred, thinkin ' we was a army an ' you the flagpole with a green-and-white flag. ' ' Everyone laughed. But Joe, seeming not to mind it, went on. Who ' s our pitcher? ' Our, ' listen to that will you, ' our, ' said a boy with a shaved head and apparently an empty one. Me, proudly replied the freckled lad. I, ' Reddy ' Gawsons, am the pitcher of Centersville and ' Baldy ' there is my catcher. Some pitcher I am too, can sling ' em right and left, spit-ball, curve, inshoot, er anything yer want. That ' s me. Who ' s Carltown ' s pitcher? A feller they call Ben Perry. He ' s a star mentally and physically both, they say, but I ' m gonna try to beat him if I can. We can ' t let you play as we know of, but of course in case we run kinda short we might let you carry water to the players or be third assistant to the umpire. ' ' Unmindful of the hilarity at his expense, Joe continued, How do the two teams stand this season ? How many games have they lost and won ? ' ' Carltown has won about eight games this season and lost none; we have won about seven and lost one- But say, what ' s that to you? You can ' t play.

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ut ' im-m p. K. MILLER, ' 21 LL THE pupils of the small country school stared at the new boy as he entered. He was about fourteen but much overgrown, being perhaps six feet in height. He entered the rude school-room at an awkward gait, with his arms full of books and a confused expression upon his face- His ragged trousers, reaching between his knees and ankles, were held up by a pair of old sus- penders and, being much too large for his lean body, gave him a very awkward appearance. His loose shirt, checkered alternately green and white, was in itself enough to attract the attention of all. His fair hair was tangled and long but his face was clean. His shoes were almost soleless and his stockings full of holes. Taking everything in consideration he might truly be called a boy, that type of a Hoosier country boy that Edward Eggleston loved so much. ' ' We have a new boy today, scholars, ' ' said Mr. Long, the school-master ; his name is Joe MuUins and he is in the seventh grade, he tells me. You all want to get acquainteii when school is out and make Joe feel welcome. ' ' Poor Joe had a terrible time in reaching his seat. He collided with a desk and every book he had went to the floor. A group of girls, observing his awkward- ness, let out a giggle, and a big boy on the front seat let out a haw! haw! haw! At length, however, guided by Mr. Long, Joe reached an empty seat in the rear of the room- He sat down and placed his books in the desk and awaited further orders from the master. A class in grammar was about to recite. Mr. Long told Joe that he might e nter it. Joe picked up his grammar and took a seat with the class. Our lesson today, announced the teacher for Joe ' s benefit, is on page f ortj ' -three ; it concerns the parts of speech. Each of you will have a short sentence; and you are to tell me which part of speech each word is. The sentences went around the class, each pupil reciting one of them. As a whole the recitations were fairly commendable. When it came Joe ' s time, he stood up and read boldly in a clear, distinct voice, ' ' The bucket was old and with moss was covered. What part of speech is the word ' the ' ? asked Mr. Long. An adjective, replied Joe. ' Bucket ' ?

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Guess we ' ll have to leave you. So long, flaggy -pole. ' ' So long, boys, ' ' said Joe, and his manner was unchanged. He went his way, with his head down thinking deeply about the game. Joe had now proven his worth, if never before, for it takes a wonderful person indeed to remain com- posed during the taunts and jeers of his companions. Saturday came at last, welcomed by all. A field just outside of Centersville was crowded with spectators from both villages, gay colors were flying every- where and hundreds of voices could be heard cheering. Old men, veterans of the Rebellion, leaned on their canes and peered through their spectacles, smiling on the young warriors. Here and there through the crowd, as the waves of cheering died dovm, a word could be distinguished, Goodbye, Centersville, Take out Carlto- vn, Skunked to be, ' ' ' ' The game is ours, ' ' and other phrases signifying the keenest interest and utmost loyaltj on the part of the rooters. At length the game began. Carltown, being the visitor, was up to bat first. The red-haired boy took his pjlace in the box, while ' ' ' Baldy ' ' stood behind the batter, ready to catch anj-thing the Carltown lad should miss. Each team did its best, for every lad had a lassie whose eyes were fixed upon him. ' ' Reddy ' ' put the ball over the plate. ' ' Strike one ! ' ' called the umpire. Not such a worse pitcher, if he keep up at that rate, said Joe who was standing in the crowd, much interested in the game. The boy from Carltown woke up and knocked the ball away over in center field. He took third base before Centersville ' s fielder could get the ball back into the diamond. Ben Perry, the opposing pitcher was next up. ' ' Reddy ' ' shook ever so much as he realized the reputation of the person at bat- Ball one! sang out the ump ire, Ball two . . . Ball three! Reddy ' ' knew there was no time to waste so he put one over the plate. Ben was not caught napping nor was his strike a vild one. He hit the ball squarely and knocked it almost twice as far as the first batter, thus bringing his catcher in and scoring himself. Three outs quickly followed; then Centersville was up to bat. Baldy struck out the first thing. Reddy was next up and he made second, but was caught off his guard and put out. Next was the short-stop ; he showed great speed — true to his long legs — and brought in a score. Jones, the second-baseman, made third and was brought in by Popplewell who bunted and made first, M ' hile Carlto ra fumbled with the ball. The next batter made an cut and the score stood two to two, at the end of the fi rst inning. The next five innings quickly followed, Carltown having the upper hand with the score six to three in her favor. Joe stepped out to Reddy and asked him to allow him to pitch for them.