Shields High School - Patriot Yearbook (Seymour, IN)

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The next morning at about ten thirty the sun decided to have another glimpse at the little apartment but this time in the bedroom. To his surprise the bed still held its occupant who stretched and yawned in contentment. Guess I ' ll phone Mable now. After that the mail will be here. In a few minutes Mable was listening to the exciting tale of Margaret ' s good fortune and promised to be there soon and hear more. An hour or so later Mable opened the door and to her surprise there in the chair sat Margaret sobbing her heart out. What ' s the matter? Isn ' t it true? cried Mable. Oh the horrid thing, how awful, oh dear, oh dear, came in sobs. Yes, its true, but he only left me a formula for soap. Look at this. Dear Miss Branon: We are glad to inform you of your great fortune in receiving this formula for soap. Your uncle spent so many years in making this recipe. It is guaranteed to take out any spot on any rug or carpet. Sincerely yours, FRANK HIRK. I ' m so sorry but never mind, we will try it and see, said Mable. Try it and see — pooh, there ' s lots of soap in the drug store. Well, you just wait. First we have to have a man. A man? Yes, you know — to buy the ingredients and put it on the market. Well, how are you going to get one, I ' d like to know. We ' ll advertise. Never mind now. You wait. » Mr. Jack Peters glanced casually over the want ads in the paper. One of them fixed his attention or was it his curiosity, most gluedly. Any vay he de- cided to investigate and call on the young lady, with a paying scheme for a young man with a little money. Mable opened the door. Jack wished to fly. Young lady, huh he said to himself. Nevertheless curiosity again led him on where upon he was introduced to the lady in waiting. Mable poured out the tale with agent-like skill. By George, won ' t she shut up. Of course I ' m going to. Look at that girl, gee! He said to himself again. Eventually the tiny apartment became a mad house. Jack swathed in a huge apron and flourishing a large spoon, looked like a pastry cook. Margaret likewise, but she didn ' t flourish a spoon. She merely reproved Jack for the scummy stuff he spread over the walls, chairs and floor. But that soap wouldn ' t harden. Nearly ten days elapsed. Each day different amounts were added, but still it wouldn ' t harden. Margaret began to be discouraged but Jack was very light-hearted. I wonder why. The eleventh day nearly gone.

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mm mm e (uill mw ft mi MARIAN SHAW. HE SUN creeping through the window of a small but dainty apartment might have wondered why its sole occupants seemed so gay. Why did they dash around backwards and forwards, their bright eyes gleaming, tails flashing. Perhaps it was because the clock on the mantlepiece had just struck five, which of course, meant that the little lady of the place would return then, the carefully laid fire would begin to crackle and the teacups would rattle and the friendly little teapot would sing its merry song. Well, any one who had studied the mannerisms of goldfish might tell us that they were just naturally happy. Nevertheless the sun was sure something was going to happen, but alas, sad Fate, he would never know. He must help the ' ' dawn come up like thunder in China ' cross the bay. ' ' The door unaccustomed to being dashed open so violently croaked volubly in revolt, but was absolutely unheeded by the young girl who dashed in with eyes as bright as (you know) and cheeks as red as (oh, well). Flinging off her things she then lighted the fire, stood up and glanced about the room, espied Micky and Dicky Goldfish in the same condition as the sun had seen them. Oh, you know it, don ' t you dearies? Never, never another type writer. Mr. Deely will never say dictation to me again. And snatching out a letter from her pocket she read it again for the fifteenth time. Dear Miss Branon: It has been my duty to inform you of the death of your uncle, Ralph Branon, whom, no doubt you have never seen. As you are one of his rightful heirs a good deal will be yours, the amount of which you will be told of later. Sincerely yours, FEANK HIRK. I ' ll tell Mable about it tomorrow, she thought gleefully and busied her- self among the teacups. Mable Harmand was the only friend of Margaret Branon in that large city where Margaret, an orphan, had come to earn her living. Mable was also an older and wiser woman.

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Let ' s put in a teaspoonful of this said Jack holding up a bottle. They both bent down over the seething mass. You are the prettiest thing I ever saw. The bottle was held in mid-air. I ' m crazy about you. The dark fluid poured from the bottle. Won ' t you please? , The bottle was empty. It was suspended several minutes. • • • • Oh, Jack, you ' ve emptied the bottle. So I have, but look it is hardening. Yes, it is, Mable, come quick, the soap hardened and I am going to be married. Mable rushed in. Let ' s see if it works. They tried it. It worked — . Wei see if we can sell it. They did. • • • • • The sun decided to have a peep in another apartment, a large and lovely one, one evening about five o ' clock. Where have I seen these goldfish before thought he. Well, what do you know about that. Mr. and Mrs. Peters sat in their new apartment. The fire was crackling and the little teapot singing. I ' m so happy said Mrs. Peters. ' ' So am I and the factory is just fine ' ' said Mr. Peters. Mr. Peters went over to Mrs. Peters — bent over her. The sun blinked expectantly. But sad Fate, he would never know, he must help the dawn come up like thunder in China ' cross the bay. ■4r.